A Scottish Tale of Improv and Haggis

I spent part of last summer in the Highlands of Scotland, teaching in a small rural school, while living with a family whose children were students at the school. It was one of the most fantastic, enriching experiences of my life, and I deeply treasure the memories of my time there.  I have a number of friends who have also taught or studied in Scotland, and they too remember their time there with great fondness, and the same wistfulness I have to go back. So, when I realized that Robbie Burns night was the end of January, I decided it was a perfect time to engage in some merrymaking, and celebrate the beautiful country I now love.  Robbie Burns Night is every January 25, on the birthday of the great Scottish poet, Robert Burns.  Admirers of Burns the world over host Burns suppers, and celebrate his life and poetry, and, by extension, all things Scottish.

I invited several  fellow “Caledoniphiles” over for an informal version of a Burns supper, which has a traditional sequence of activities and rituals that we loosely followed.  We ate the traditional meal of haggis (ordered fresh), neeps (turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes), after marching the haggis in to bagpipe music, while someone read Burns’ “Ode to a Haggis”, after which we toasted the “Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin’ Race” with uisge beatha raised high. The meal and afterwards was filled with stories of our time in Scotland, Burns’ poetry, toasts to him and “the Laddies”- and laughter. Lots of laughter. Then came cups of tea and Scottish desserts while we listened to more Scottish music, looked at photos, and told more stories. The evening ended in the traditional Burns supper way: singing Auld Lang Syne together.  It was a fabulous evening that did justice to our love for Scotland!

What this night got me thinking about was a comment Dr. McMullen had made after reading this blog last week. It had to do with who we choose to play with, if our partners in play matter in the enjoyment we feel, and if so, how much? I personally think this is a very important part of how we play. For example, if I had invited a bunch of people over who had no connection to Scotland, and who were either incapable of entering into the ritual and improvised action of the evening, or simply chose not to, the evening would have been extremely different, and not nearly as meaningful, fun, or playful as it was. The women who came were as invested as I was in enacting a Burns supper and celebrating Scottishness.  They read the poems and told their stories with expression.  They cheered at the presentation of the haggis. They even improvised when it was time for the speeches we hadn’t planned, and sang loudly and beautifully when it was time for Auld Lang Syne.  In other words, they had “buy in” for this play event, and without it, the evening never would have been more than a “meh” dinner party. I chose these women to play with because we had something in common we cared about, because I knew they were people I could trust to play along, and who wouldn’t be afraid to be expressive, and even sometimes silly with me. It seems to me that when our play centers around something really important to us, something that makes us vulnerable, I think that we choose who we will invite into our “playground” carefully. We are exposed when we play in certain ways-such as being silly or imaginative-and we need to know that we can trust who we share those things with; that they won’t ridicule us when we show parts of our playful selves we won’t show others.

This event also brought to mind some of the things that our speaker taught us about improvisation last week in class: that you have to be spontaneous as you play off other people, that the scene is one of collective creation, and so everyone is equally responsible to make the scene a success, that everyone’s contribution is valuable. The way I see it, in order to engage this way, you have to trust your improv partners. You have to be willing to go out on a limb with them, and believe that you will help each other out to make the scene successful. You have to trust that your “offers” will be accepted, that the answer will be “yes, and….” , and that you in turn will extend and enrich their offers, too.  Robbie Burns Night showed me that certain kinds of play are rather like this sort of improvisational event. Thankfully, I had improv partners willing to go out on that limb with me,  and we all ended the night feeling blessed for having such great friends to play with.  And so, I end with a toast to my Scottish-loving, haggis-eating improvising play mates- cheers!

PS: Some of you reading this are totally wondering what the heck haggis is, and why anyone would write an ode to it. Google haggis, then watch this awesome recitation of the poem. It's in the original Scots language, with the English translation subtitled. C'mon, you know you want to.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kzYaIphbzU