On Tuesday evenings in Amsterdam, while most adults are settling into their living room routines, I transform into a giraffe hailing a taxi, a monster with flailing arms, and, on occasion, an empathetic teapot gathering dust in grandma's attic. No, I haven't lost my mind. I've rediscovered my “pretend muscle,” which has been awakened by the delightfully bizarre combination of improvisational comedy and the need to learn Dutch.

Our group of language learners gathers weekly to play "make-believe" for 2 hours in fledgling Dutch.

When I moved to the Netherlands, I did what any sensible person with a year of Duolingo and 6 weeks of Dutch school under my belt would do—I signed up for a 12-week "Improv Your Dutch" (IYD) workshop. Our group of language learners gathers weekly to play "make-believe" for 2 hours in fledgling Dutch. And what began as a practical language-learning strategy produced a spectacular byproduct in my life – fun! Improv has reintroduced unburdened childlike play into my life—the kind of play I did at an age when “zoom” was something you did on a scooter, not a meeting that could’ve been an email.

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It's physical

Our classes often begin with what our instructor cheerfully calls a "warm-up game." Picture this: a circle of chairs, one fewer than participants, and the mission to prevent "the Queen" from claiming the one empty seat. What ensues is less like a Dutch lesson and more like musical chairs as an Olympic sport for the woefully untrained. We dash between chairs with the urgency of people catching the last train, and try not to collide. It's a warm-up in the truest sense as I'm usually sweating by round two.

We are active and moving when we do scenes. On any given Tuesday, I might find myself sprawled dramatically on the floor as a founder of a wildly optimistic start-up, balancing precariously on a chair simulating a jump out of an airplane, or spinning endlessly on a dance floor during the worst date of my life—all while attempting to conjugate Dutch verbs and properly pronounce guttural consonants (a futile exercise to date).

It’s creative

I spend the evening pretending. I pretend I am scared, young, old, ecstatic, curious, happy, climbing or parachuting. I may be anyone or anything, anywhere. My imagination is unplugged and let loose. It’s messy, ridiculous, and as you might guess there are moments when a scene is so funny I can not keep a straight face.

The magic of improv lies in its delicious unpredictability.

The magic of improv lies in its delicious unpredictability. Scenes spring from classmate suggestions—for settings, characters, or situations. I may start the evening as a disappointed toaster and end it as a weather forecaster with aspirations of Broadway stardom. Listening well and reacting to scene partners with a “yes, and…”, a tool to collaborate and build a scene, has me plumbing my creative depths. Responding to what my scene partner says and adding to it means I am truly in the moment. I often end up surprising myself with those real time responses.

And while it is extremely satisfying to come up with something spot on and make people laugh, I mostly enjoy watching my classmates perform. A young classmate from Colombia – ever clever and Gumby-like, continuously leaves me in stitches during her scenes.  One evening we channeled Raiders of the Lost Ark and re-enacted death-defying events such as hopping over imaginary crocodiles. When it was her turn, my classmate surprised us with a floppy cartwheel over the deadly critters, causing me to nearly double over with laughter.

A safe space for failure

In a traditional Dutch language class, my struggle to properly order a sentence becomes a stumbling block, however in Improv, it's merely a plot point. When I fail to find words, I enthusiastically mime through scenes (leaving my partners to interpret whether they are being chased by a bear or being offered a cup of coffee).

Celebrating mistakes, a key tenet of Improv, makes Improv Your Dutch truly brilliant as both a language learning environment and a playground for adults. Our excellent instructor focuses on being positive and safe. She creates a low pressure, high fun environment. Consequently, the windowless, concrete, unadorned room where we practice transforms into a joyous and safe playground every session.

Reconnecting with our younger selves

After one particularly satisfying session, walking home through my Amsterdam neighborhood, I experienced something profound. The evening's improv session had somehow created a momentary bridge through time to an earlier version of myself—the pre-adult Sheila who approached life with unfettered curiosity and shy confidence. It wasn't exactly nostalgia, it was more of a cozy "I remember you" feeling that brought me unexpected comfort.

There was something truly healing about reconnecting with the part of me that existed before adult concerns, professional identities, and life's inevitable losses created so many layers of seriousness and caution.

This connection to my younger self has provided a buoyancy I still struggle to articulate. There was something truly healing about reconnecting with the part of me that existed before adult concerns, professional identities, and life's inevitable losses created so many layers of seriousness and caution.

Come out and play!

When I tell people I do improv to learn Dutch they commonly express dread and say something along the lines of “I could/would never do that!” I have heard this so many times now that I make no effort to rebut but I privately think “Why? We are just playing games. Come out and play!”