9 Lessons From Running a 350 Person Improv Meetup
One of the many wonderful dinners after a successful Meetup!
“Come build soft skills with hard laughs.”
I finish the description of the first gathering of the Triangle Improv Comedy Meetup. Now, time to launch.
I want to get at least four people, the minimum amount for my lesson plan. I’ve given everyone a week to sign up. It’s free, but it does seem sketchy that it’s in the basement of a theater... Oh well. “Publish event.”
Sixteen(!) people show up.
Twelve months later. My every-other-week events max out and have some on the waitlist. People are asking for private coaching. I’ve created a sparking, bubbly 350-person community of funny, positive people.
And have learned a ton along the way.
Here are nine lessons I’ve learned from 19 months of creating and running the Triangle* Improv Comedy Meetup. Three for business, three for personal, and three for community-building.
Business
You don’t have to reinvent the wheel to find a niche
When I told people I was starting an improv comedy Meetup group, they rolled their eyes.
“Why would you do that if there are so many other improv theaters in the Triangle? Won’t your attendees just go there?” – Nonbelievers, occasionally
When I started, I had no good answer to this question. A year and a half later, I can answer it with confidence.
The group’s value wasn’t just about learning improv. It derived from a variety of factors I wasn’t even thinking about:
Convenience. Since the workshops started at 6:30P and were located in Morrisville (the industrial hub of the Triangle), attendees could come decompress and relax right after a strenuous day of work.
Low Commitment. Every other Thursday, I charged $10 for two hours of instruction - but what the attendees actually got was two hours of being surrounded by funny, positive people and a nightful of laughs. Compare this to signing up for a $200+ eight-week course at a comedy theater.
Community. The Meetup had a culture of its own. Great friendships, inside jokes, and rituals stemmed from the gathering of the same people over and over again. The more times people came, the stronger their relationships would become, not only with improv, but with their newfound friends.
With this free-flowing, show-up-if-you-can model in the heart of the Triangle, I was able to carve a niche in what seemed like a saturated improv space.
I didn’t create some new and fancy way to perform or teach improv. I didn’t create a Cool Improv App for your phone. I just did things differently than my “competitors,” and lo, my niche was carved.
Tend to your customers when they want more
Maybe a year into the Meetup, I noticed some of my die-hard community members were skipping meetings. When I reached out to one of them, I realized they had started taking a course at the ComedyWorx theater in Raleigh. Oh no! Had I just created a top-of-the-funnel ingestion engine for ComedyWorx? I train these people to become improvisers only to lose them as customers to a different improv space?
Note: The above is written half-jokingly. I love ComedyWorx and have taken many classes there. They are an excellent establishment and I was happy that my members were looking to further their improv journeys.
When I prodded further, I discovered that they left because I wasn’t offering enough.
It’s true. My whole model was based around an anyone-can-show-up-and-play philosophy (as I believe improv doesn’t have to be public to be good for you). They had attended 26 of these introductory Meetups. They wanted more.
Once they told me this, I started working on creating new offerings:
“Improv Intensive Extraordinaire!” Three hours instead of two! Eight people max instead of sixteen people max. Twice the price. Centered around advanced improv techniques and longer-form games.
"Dinner and a Show." A regular workshop, but with a twist: we would see an actual improv show afterwards and analyze it over a yummy dinner.
Private coaching. Some members of the Meetup expressed interest in performing publicly. I was happy to help provide an outside view of their performance and offer pointers and guidance.
These new workshops enticed those who had abandoned the introductory level courses. I had diversified my offerings and had greatly satisfied those who were looking for more.
Never stop iterating
In the early days of the Meetup, when I was hosting it in a theater basement, growth was slow-going.
Few people were showing up to our location. Some got lost. Some didn’t want to make the drive every other Thursday (especially those whose house was in the opposite direction of the theater).
But that all changed when a member named Carolyn off-handedly made the remark:
“You know, I’d be willing to pay, say $10, for this if it were closer to me.” - Carolyn, off-handedly
I took her advice. Even if it was a bust to move it to central Morrisville and lose the pastiche of being in a theater, turnout couldn’t get much lower anyways…
I moved it to a chess practice room (more on that later) in Morrisville and… WHAM! 16 people signed up with two on the waitlist. All paying $10 apiece.
The Meetup group was no longer a fledgling group of people trying to convene in aesthetic places. It was a full-on business.
Carolyn was overjoyed I took her advice, but I was perhaps even more so! She kept returning.
I gathered more feedback. People kept commenting on my ability to be so welcoming (more on that later) to this scary new activity. I made sure to be as welcoming as possible.
I chose games that would be a hit. I would analyze what went wrong on off-nights. I would send out recaps of workshops afterwards for attendees to share with their friends. We would all go out to dinner afterwards to discuss the evening and shoot the breeze.
Most importantly, at the end of every workshop, I would run a feedback session called Roses and Thorns. Every member, including myself, would tell the group their highlight for the night (their Rose) and their lowlight for the night (their Thorn). This could be anything: their favorite game, their favorite laugh of the night, the traffic getting there. Anything and everything was game. This would give me a chance to figure out what worked and what didn’t and make sure the next time they came, they saw their feedback integrated.
Note: In retrospect, perhaps I should have addressed it as Thorns and Roses. Just the name “Roses and Thorns” made most people deliver their highlight first, followed by their lowlight. I would swap it around so everyone ended on a highlight for the night.
Personal
How I Manage Up
In college, I was elected the Director of North Carolina State University’s improv troupe.
I had only performed for two years and had absolutely no experience as a troupe leader. As I started my first lesson, I kept failing to command the room. I heard:
“Take charge!”, the ex-Director, from the back of the room
I didn’t know how - especially in front of more seasoned performers.
If I could go back and tell College Gus that he would be managing 350+ performers, 16 or so at a time, he would be floored. And they weren’t all amateurs either! Actors and actresses with over 20 years of experience routinely came to the Triangle Improv Comedy Meetup.
What changed between college and running the Meetup? I learned how I manage up.
Managing up is the act of an employee using traits of being a manager to support their boss. While none of these individuals were strictly my boss, they did expect certain outcomes from the Meetup and at times had much more experience than me.
My approach to managing up my members boiled down to four things:
Prepare. Detail the entire Meetup on a Post-It note the night before. This should not only include which games we were playing, but why we were playing them. This helped my credibility.
Gather Feedback. Incorporate more experienced members’ ideas into future workshops. See Roses and Thorns above. This helped them feel like they were part of something larger.
Set Expectations. Clearly communicate the events of the evening as well as the focus. Support them if they didn’t want to participate in a certain game, or even if they want to sit out for the entire evening. This helped them feel welcome.
Adapt. Read the room. Note what is and isn’t working and pivot. This helped me feel out and meet their expectations.
Ask
Time for a quick story.
“The answer’s always ‘no’ if you don’t ask.” – My dad, often with a knowing grin
After Carolyn said she wanted to be closer to Morrisville, I started looking into performance venues nearby.
I did have a budget now, supposing I was charging $10 a member. If the event maxed out at 16 members, I would have $160 to spend.
My first thought was to rent a performance space from the local community college. One glance at the facilities reservation pamphlet - $300 for two hours in the evening. I love and improv and want to teach it, but I don’t want to burn $140 every two weeks to do so!
I looked into local park facilities nearby. They were a little bit more reasonable - $110 or so for two hours in the evening. Still, I would need to routinely get 11 or so to break even. (This was in the early days of the Meetup, so that was not a guarantee!)
As a last resort, I started searching for small businesses with ample space. It didn’t even need to be a performance space, heck, a small conference room would be great. Anything in the middle of Morrisville that wouldn’t routinely lose me hundreds of dollars!
And then I found it, the holy grail: Triangle Chess. A gorgeous wooden interior with plastic chairs and tables. The space could easily fit 50 people. And it was even more centrally located than either of the other two options.
But would they rent it to me? Some random guy with a rag-tag group of other random fellows performing zany make-'em-ups? I crossed my fingers and dashed off a quick email. I sent a few more to other promising locations.
Triangle Chess responded saying they’d like to show me the space on Sunday!
With great delight, I drove on over to the location. It was packed! There was a chess tournament going on. Fifty or so kids, sitting in dead silence, chessing. Just outside the door, I met with the owner and had a whisper negotiation with him, so as not to disturb the chessers.
“Hey, I’m Gus. I sent you an email about renting your space.” I whisper.
“Nice to meet you Gus, how does this look and when do you want to use it?” Bill quietly responds.
“It looks perfect, Bill. How’s every other Thursday?” I say in hushed tones.
“We don’t hold classes then. That could work well. We were thinking $25/hour?” Bill responds gently.
“That is perfect! I’ll coordinate details over email, enjoy the tournament!” I squeak, inaudibly.
I would have never found Triangle Chess if I didn’t ask. It was a perfect performance venue, centrally located, and reasonably priced.
The only downside was some of the suggestions for the improv scenes were “rook” or “Magnus Carlsen”.
Social leaders make tons of friends
At least once a day, on Reddit, Twitter, or in conversation, someone brings up the struggle of making friends as an adult. Espousers claim it was much easier in high school and college to befriend others.
And I agree with them! It does take more effort to make friends as an adult.
But I would argue becoming a social leader around one of your interests could be the quickest way to do it.
Over the 19 months of the Meetup, I connected with over 350 people. Over 70 of which were routine members (once a month or more). I was exposing myself to new people every day, with the intention of having a great evening with them.
This engine of introducing new people into my life gave me a lot of opportunity for connection. Some sparks flew immediately, other relationships took longer to kindle. Those I met on a recurring basis quickly became friends - we were regularly connecting and they had an interest in improv, laughter, and being positive.
Improv wasn’t the sole focus either. I would say the big dinners afterwards were the melting pot for friendship soup. They, as individuals, emerged, their personality showing outside of an improvisational context. This is where we learned each other. And we had a built-in icebreaker: the hilarious two hours of improv we did beforehand! Compliments and praise would fly around the table, followed soon after by drinks, food, and stories.
These friendships got to the point that they broke out of the Meetup circle. I had members going to the symphony together, creating podcasts, and even throwing a big Friendsgiving/housewarming party.
All in all, through teaching improv, I created a massive network of people I can rely on in the Triangle.
And all I had to do to get in touch was message them on Meetup.
Community-Building
Be welcoming!
I was always delighted when someone new showed up to the Meetup. I’d offer them a bottle of water and a seat. I’d ask them if it was their first time doing improv, why they chose to come, and if they had any questions for me. This one-on-one pre-workshop interaction was always one of the beginners’ Roses.
I was always blown away that someone would take two hours (plus commuting!) out of their day to try something that scares the hell out of most people. It was a great honor to be their “handshake” to the world of improv.
Compare this to an “anyone welcome” real estate Meetup I went to (for some reason, I don’t have a house nor have any interest in buying one for a few years).
I find the room and stroll on in. I’m not met by anyone at the door. I find the only open seat I can, way in the back. It’s a packed house, everyone seems to know each other. I’m underdressed.
The presentation consists largely of insurance advice and what you can do to better lower your tax liability as a dual-property owner. There were some terms I didn’t know. At one point, the presenter asks if there are any questions. I raise my hand and ask:
“I’m new to this so some of these words are unfamiliar to me. What’s escrow**?” – Me, a renter
A chuckle bursts out through the room. The presenter chuckles and continues presenting. I slink into my seat - I do not feel very welcome.
Once the presentation is over, I grab a cookie and dart out the door.
People are there to learn from you. Let them, and do so with enthusiasm, warmth, and confidence.
A bunch of people with similar interests isn’t a community
I’ve always said that Meetup is a perfect place for an improv community to form. Improv requires:
Another person
Physically being together (although Zoom improv is becoming more and more viable)
And though I stand by that, it is clear to me that a bunch of people with similar interests isn’t a community - it’s just a real-world subreddit.
When I was in college, the improv troupe under my direction would go out to dinner after every practice. I was too busy with my schoolwork - I’d flake out. Yet, I’d always be jealous of their camaraderie and unity.
But this was on me. I was participating in the central focus of the community, but not the community itself.
I see a similar issue with other Meetups. A group of Python engineers will get together to learn about polymorphism, but after the presentation’s over, they work isolated on their own projects.
There’s something to be said about the energy of a roomful of focused programmers, but that’s not a community either - that’s a study hall.
To be clear, not everything has to be a community. But if you are trying to build one, make sure you’re allowing people to be themselves, connect in authentic ways, involve rituals (going to dinner after the event), and that you are participating in it.
Tell the community’s story to every newcomer
Humans love stories. They connect with narratives. Stories help people digest information in exciting, emotional ways.
I told the story of the inception of the Meetup to the entire group every single time there was a newcomer, no matter how many times return visitors had heard it.
It went a little something like this:
“Hey everyone, my name is Gus. I’ve been performing and teaching improv for six years now. I wanted to share the story of how this Meetup came to be. I was working as a contract videographer in San Diego. And as nice as that sounds, it was actually one of the most miserable times in my life. I had no connections, I knew nobody. I had trouble finding my people there - I don’t have the coordination to surf and I don’t smoke. What I look for are smart, funny, and positive people. I found a local improv Meetup there and instantly felt connection. I made friends right away. I knew that once my video contract was up, I wanted to provide that same experience to whoever needed it back in the Triangle. So, for whatever reason you’ve come tonight, I want to thank you and hope that you find what you’re looking for. Let’s play!” – Me, every other Thursday night
Not everyone connected with this right away, but telling the history of the Meetup and what it meant to me made them realize it wasn’t a cash-grab, soulless business. Some of my attendees were in the exact same shoes I was in back in San Diego and the story immediately resonated.
This helped newcomers level-set, to buy in to the narrative of what we were building together. It brought everyone up to speed, set expectations, and appreciate the effort they made to be there.
I learned so much from running this Meetup - heck, there may even be a part two to this. I hope to leave you with a new thought about how you approach your business, life, or community.
*The Triangle is a nickname for the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area in North Carolina.
**"In escrow" is the state of a bond, deed, or other document being kept in the custody of a third party and taking effect only when a specified condition has been fulfilled.
