Yes, And: How Improv Helped Me Rewire My Brain After A Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI)
- Amy Kraft
- 24 hours ago
- 5 min read
From an early age I was obsessed with making people laugh. Inspired by Lucille Ball, I took every performance opportunity I could find. My elementary and middle school yearbooks are peppered with commentary by teachers and friends encouraging me to follow my dreams of acting and not to forget them when I am a famous comedian.
Then, when I was in 10th grade, in the midst of rehearsals for our school musical Pippin, I was hit by a car crossing a street in Westport, Connecticut. Unconscious on the scene, I was transported to a nearby hospital for emergency surgery and remained there in a coma. When I awoke two weeks later, I was transported to a rehabilitation hospital where I received around-the-clock therapy to heal my broken bones. I didn’t know that my recovery was going to extend well beyond my hospital stay, and when I got out, I expected to return to normality as quickly as possible.
The following summer, I rejoined a theatre programme I had been with in previous years. The director and fellow students knew me as a comedian, an improviser, the person who always took a character and made it her own, always with a twist of humour. But this time, during auditions, I froze. I couldn’t act spontaneously and any joke I tried to make didn’t seem to land. I assumed I had lost my ability to act, so I gave it up.
Understanding a Damaged Brain
The brain is a complex organ that requires precise actions for it to function properly. If this is disrupted, like in the case of a traumatic brain injury, the brain is thrown off balance and can’t function properly.
A scan of my brain while I was in the hospital showed brain contusions or bruises in the left cerebral hemisphere of my brain, which plays an important role in logical thinking, problem solving, and processing information. Doctors also found bruises on my brain in areas responsible for planning and decision-making. I struggled with emotional regulation and quickly became depressed. To cope, I turned to drugs and alcohol — even though a neuropsychologist had warned me I was especially vulnerable to addiction because of damage in the brain’s reward and impulse-control system. My dreams of acting faded further into the recesses of my damaged brain as I sought relief in all the wrong places.
My Second Act
Fortunately, I was able to get clean and turn my life around. I still wanted to act, so I set off to college to pursue a degree in the arts. But once again, I blanked completely in my first acting class, unable to perform. I pushed the dream aside and pursued a career in health and science journalism, which took me to Paris and New York City. Now and then, I would dip a toe back into the theatre world, performing in a play, or a student film, or taking the stage at an improv theatre. But it seemed more like a hobby than anything serious.
Years later, after building a successful career in journalism, I moved to Chicago and enrolled in an improv course at the famed Second City, the improvisational comedy theatre and training centre, which changed my life. Every time I entered the building for class I knew I belonged. It was my place, my calling, and it had waited for me to be ready.
Then, in the summer of 2024, I was laid off from my job as an executive editor at a national health publication. Of course, I was sad at first, but I slowly started to view this as an opportunity to focus on my passion for acting. I signed with an agent and formed an improv team that performed in theatres around Chicago. I graduated from the conservatory programme at The Second City and the improv programme at Home Comedy Theater, and started teaching improv to kids, which I love. I go out on auditions every week and continue to take classes to hone my craft. It is daunting and gruelling work, and I love every minute of it.
How Improv Helped Me Regain Control of My Brain Health
I’m at a point in my life and my recovery where it is hard to determine which cognitive difficulties may be problems related to my brain injury, or just part of parenthood or normal ageing. Nevertheless, I have some cognitive difficulties at times: remembering names, following along with scenes, thinking quickly on my feet in an improv scene. Fortunately, improv has helped me to embrace these aspects of myself. In fact, one of the main principles of improv is that there are no mistakes. And boy, do I love that.
Onstage during a show one time, I played the mom to a young adult who was planning on moving out, even though I wanted him to stay at home. Another person onstage played the best friend to this man, who actually wanted to move in with me. As the scene continued, I forgot the name I had given to my character’s son. Once we decided that my son was leaving me and his best friend was moving in, I looked to my son and said, “Well, good luck to you, whose name I’ve forgotten.” It got a huge laugh. Even though I had genuinely forgotten his name, it made sense that my character would be so mad at her son that she would forget his name.
In the world of improv, failure is gold. In another show, two players had built a scene in a well-known grocery store chain in Illinois. I hopped onstage and started playing a piano, in a nod to a specific grocery store that has a piano bar in it. But my hand gestures appeared to some other players onstage, as if I were typing on a computer. I yelled out the specific grocery store I was referring to and what I was doing, and then another player hopped onstage to show me the proper hand movements to pantomime playing the piano. And everyone thought it was hilarious that I didn't know what I was doing. Because in improv, failure is gold.
My work in improv teaches me that mistakes are going to happen, and they are OK. Yes, I have problems with my short-term memory, which makes it difficult to remember specific facts or names in improv scenes. Yes, I sometimes freeze on stage and can’t think of initiations or ways to build on scenes in the moment. But instead of beating myself up and telling myself I am not good enough, I now choose to just go out there and give it my best.
Life is short and I’ve had enough near misses with death, so today I choose to live life to its fullest and embrace my limitations and make them part of my story.
