How Improv Has Helped Me as a Facilitator

If, when I say ‘improv’, you imagine me bounding about in a sweaty theatre with a bunch of overenthusiastic 27 year olds, pretending we are all trees or something... you're dead right.

But I can truthfully say I have drawn from my improv training far more than several university subjects for which I am still paying off a HECS debt. So below are the key principles of improv that have made me a better facilitator:

1. Deep Listening

Here, we're talking about the difference between actually hearing what participants are saying and just waiting for your turn to speak.

We’ve all had that moment where someone makes a comment, and we brush past it—only to later realise what they were actually trying to say. A pause, that extra second to let yourself not know for even a moment before responding, can be where the gold is.

As a supervisor, deep listening is also about knowing when to lean back into reflective questions and when “Well.... what do you think?” feels like a lazy, rage-inducing cop-out. Because let’s be real—sometimes people come to you looking for actual answers, not a 'feelings-sharing' circle, and sometimes it's worth honouring that.

2. Make Your Scene Partner Look Good

Apart from 'Yes/And', if you know any other improv principles, it's probably this one. 

In improv, it's lobbing up a joke so your scene partner can whack it home and get the laughs.

The same applies in facilitation—I admit my craven desire to seem knowledgeable meant this lesson took a while. Shockingly, it's not about proving how smart or engaging you are; it’s about lifting up the people in the room.

I make a point of highlighting participants’ insights, giving credit where it’s due, and letting them take ownership of the learning. When people feel seen and valued, engagement skyrockets.

3. Be Affected

Great improvisers allow themselves to be genuinely influenced by what happens in a scene. The same goes for facilitation—if you're too rigid with your plan, you’ll miss the magic.

For facilitators, this means really being in the room, but it goes beyond ‘Deep Listening’ — it’s responding to the actual humans in front of you. It means noticing when the room energy changes, letting yourself actually have an emotional reaction to what you’re heaing. It also means demonstrating your humanness.

I once worked with a mum who was telling me about her child’s meltdowns. It was clear that yes, she had absolutely tried of the best evidence-based strategies, and they weren’t even touching the sides. I did my best to offer insights and suggestions, but honestly, I left feeling useless. Later, she sought me out to say how much she had appreciated me that day—I had actually sat in that moment with her. I hadn’t tried to fix it or rush past her struggle; I had been really present. (It was just as well she had that reaction, because honestly, I was all out of ideas).

The same principle applies to facilitation. Sometimes, it’s not about rushing to have the perfect response—it’s about holding space, letting yourself be moved.

4. Don’t Try to Be Funny or Wacky: Please, I Beg You

Improv isn’t about forcing humour; the humour only comes when it's evident there are stakes and people care.

And nothing kills a training session faster than a facilitator trying too hard to be 'fun.' We’ve all been in those workshops where someone starts with a cringey icebreaker or forces a ‘hilarious’ activity that makes you want to evaporate. It gives such serious "How do you do, fellow kids?"energy*

Some of the best facilitation moments have come when I quit trying to be clever and just focus on the group’s needs. Real connection is far more engaging than forced entertainment, plus the lols of genuine shared connection—when they're real—are close to nirvana.

5. Clear Your Mind

The best improvisers enter a scene without preconceptions, responding to what’s actually happening rather than what they expected to happen. The best facilitators do the same.

Before a session, I have my plan, my materials, my structure—but I also take a moment to clear my mind of assumptions. This is a necessary practice during training too. In the Family Partnership Model, this is called releasing 'constructs'—our pre-formed ideas about what people need or how a session will go. If I come in too attached to what I think should happen, I risk bulldozing past what the group actually needs. Staying open allows for real co-creation, not just content delivery.

6. Fail Big: Messing Up is Part of the Job

In improv, mistakes aren’t failures—they’re opportunities. There is something SO joyful when, say, an actor is told onstage that they're in the Star Trek universe but they clearly know nothing about Star Trek.

I once had a session where I was explaining a key concept, only to suddenly experience a complete and utter mental blank. Like, nothing, not even the Homer Simpson cymbal monkey I could feel the entire room waiting for me to say the very word that had just vanished from my brain. So, naturally, I tried to stall by using increasingly vague hand gestures and saying things like, “You know… the thing… with the… uh… process?” before finally admitting defeat and asking the group, “Does anybody know what I'm on about?”

They did. And honestly? It turned into a great moment of collective problem-solving. Turns out, when you embrace the fumble instead of panicking, it makes it far less painful and gives permission to others.

Of course, no matter how many times you check the AV beforehand, something will go wrong. One time, I was running a Zoom session out of my apartment in St Kilda, and suddenly there was bone-shaking drilling happening next door. Of course there was. Did I panic? Well… yes.

Actually, I wish I had a great ending for that story, but in reality, it was super awkward and I was relieved when it was all over. But my point still stands (I think).
Please note that I didn't make one of my tips 'Finish Strong'.

Improv: The Ultimate Facilitation Training

If the prospect of running over to an improv class still gives you The Ick, you can still learn from its principles: listen deeply, stay present, lift others up, and embrace the unexpected.

The best facilitation doesn’t come from sticking to a script—it comes from showing up, responding in real time, and making the people in the room feel seen and empowered.

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 *Which, in searching for that link, I just discovered has memeceptioned itself. Well shit).

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What about you? Have you ever had to improvise your way through a professional situation? I’d love to hear your best (or worst) moments!

Peter Hayes