Over the weekend Stephen Colbert gave the commencement address at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois. (Apparently I'm fixated on performers from The Daily Show and their commencement addresses.) It's damn funny–much better than his White House Correspondents Association performance–but I particularly liked the deft way he wove a serious note into his conclusion:
You seem nice enough, so I'll try to give you some advice. First of all, when you go to apply for your first job, don’t wear these robes. Medieval garb does not instill confidence in future employers—unless you're applying to be a scrivener. And if someone does offer you a job, say yes. You can always quit later. Then at least you'll be one of the unemployed as opposed to one of the never-employed. Nothing looks worse on a resume than nothing.
So, say "yes." In fact, say "yes" as often as you can. When I was starting out in Chicago, doing improvisational theatre with Second City and other places, there was really only one rule I was taught about improv. That was, "yes-and." In this case, "yes-and" is a verb. To "yes-and." I yes-and, you yes-and, he, she or it yes-ands. And yes-anding means that when you go onstage to improvise a scene with no script, you have no idea what's going to happen, maybe with someone you've never met before. To build a scene, you have to accept. To build anything onstage, you have to accept what the other improviser initiates on stage. They say you're doctors—you're doctors. And then, you add to that: We're doctors and we're trapped in an ice cave. That's the "-and." And then hopefully they "yes-and" you back. You have to keep your eyes open when you do this. You have to be aware of what the other performer is offering you, so that you can agree and add to it. And through these agreements, you can improvise a scene or a one-act play. And because, by following each other's lead, neither of you are really in control. It's more of a mutual discovery than a solo adventure. What happens in a scene is often as much a surprise to you as it is to the audience.
Well, you are about to start the greatest improvisation of all. With no script. No idea what's going to happen, often with people and places you have never seen before. And you are not in control. So say "yes." And if you're lucky, you'll find people who will say "yes" back.
Now will saying "yes" get you in trouble at times? Will saying "yes" lead you to doing some foolish things? Yes it will. But don't be afraid to be a fool. Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don't learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying "yes" begins things. Saying "yes" is how things grow. Saying "yes" leads to knowledge. "Yes" is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say "yes."
I'm 16 years removed from my college graduation, closing in on 40 fast, and I hardly think of myself as young, but Colbert's advice still resonates deeply with me. I've said "yes" to a lot of things in my life that have taken me far beyond my comfort zone and my competencies, and some of those experiences have turned out to be grave disappointments, if not outright disasters. But I don't regret those mistakes half as much as I regret the times I played it safe and said "no" when facing a challenge or an intriguing opportunity.
By saying "yes," even when–especially when–I tried and failed, I learned something about myself and came away from the experience better prepared for whatever came next. That's not to say my failures have simply been a character-building series of learning experiences. They've hurt, sometimes bitterly, and I've often wished I'd said "no" and spared myself the agony and the embarrassment of failure. But ultimately I know I'm a better person for having said "yes," for having tried to get more out of life and to contribute more to the world around me.
3 Responses
This rings familiar: Dave Eggers expressed a similar idea in his memorable rant/interview with the Harvard Advocate in 2000. Amidst all the notorious “sellout!” talk, he does conclude with a great argument for “yes” and against “no.” Worth visiting, or revisiting.
I agree with Colbert’s comments. I took improv classes more than 20 years ago and remember the “yes and” exercises very well. I’ve often thought it was a great theme for a business white paper or book (or a speech.) Improv is a lot like life. The other rules I remember: always add information (which goes along with “yes and.”) You can save a scene by changing the emotion (go from angry to giddy) or change the stage picture. In other words, MOVE.
Great speech. I hope the kids listened.
Paul: Thanks for the link to that Eggers interview, which I’d entirely forgotten. “To enjoy art one needs time, patience, and a generous heart, and criticism is done, by and large, by impatient people who have axes to grind.” Great stuff!
Jon: I totally agree–in fact, I actually took a seminar on improv in business school. The instructor was a guy who’d graduated the year before and was spending a lot of his off-hours with Bay Area TheaterSports, an improv group. During the seminar he explained to us how valuable his improv skills were when it came to making presentations, giving pitches, etc. Some related thoughts in my recent post on physical presence and leadership. Thanks!