I believe in saying yes.

As a timid freshman in college, I wandered my campus’ quad, looking at all the booths set up by various student organizations. There was the geology club, Spanish club, academic honors societies… and a group called “Evil Petting Zoo”. A cluster of very loud, very eccentric, people surrounded their table.

Mistakenly, I made eye contact with the cluster–and they pounced. They were an improv group, they explained. Their sales pitch was quick-witted and convincing–and intimidating enough to encourage me to audition. So, I stepped out of my comfort zone, gave it my best shot, and, soon after, I received an invitation to join.

Still, I felt like an outsider. They all had this energy about them that I just wasn’t able to match, even after a week of practice. Turns out, I knew nothing about improv. And I had to learn.

The first “unit” was the “rules to improv,” the first “lesson” being the rule “yes, and…”. “Yes, and…” means that, in any given context of a scene, you must say “yes” to the current situation followed by an “and” to add your own contribution. Like, “yes, there is a purple dinosaur–and he’s my sidekick.”

Soon, I realized that “yes, and…” wasn’t just an improv rule. It was an outlook, too–an outlook that began to permeate my life outside of performance. It took over the way I engaged with the world. And Hanover College was the perfect environment in which to practice the “yes, and..” model. Using “yes, and…” over the next four years, I went from a timid first-year student to Vice President of Student Senate to Stewardship Intern to IFC President to...

You get the idea.

It was also this mindset that encouraged me to say “yes” to a stranger from Hanover, Indiana who asked me to transport them to Indianapolis to pick up their recently fixed car.

Louis (pronounced "Louie"), celebrating at his graduation from Hanover College


That single yes turned into changed academic and career paths.

On the car ride to Indianapolis, my new acquaintance introduced me to Bradford Woods, a recreational therapy camp for people with various cognitive and physical diagnoses run by Indiana University and Riley Children’s Hospital. And it just so happened that Bradford Woods was hiring counselors for the summer.

So, when it came time to apply for summer jobs, Bradford Woods was on the top of my list–and, thankfully, I got the job.

My time there required relentless efforts of “yes, and…” as both exciting and stressful experiences unfolded. At Bradford Woods I became familiar with the disabled community in a way that I had not been before. Seeing the power that accessible and universal design provides individuals of all abilities to lead meaningful lives showed me how disenfranchising it is when systems are not structured inclusively. I was left with the understanding that “yes, there is a problem here–and we all have a responsibility to figure it out.”

So that’s what I have been pursuing since. I said “yes” to the call, “and added a new major” to my existing one of economics: sociology.

My sociological education gave me context to the social issues our nation faces, such discrimination, addiction, housing, food-access, mass incarceration, etc. I had an understanding of both the economic bounds and factors contributing to these systemic issues and an understanding of the social impact of these same issues, yet I became increasingly frustrated: none of my classes contributed an actionable path toward progress.

Well, thankfully, I found enFocus at about the same time all of these experiences I had been collecting came to an intersection. At enFocus, we work with organizations that create direct positive change in our communities, and we do it through the lens of “yes, and…”. Our job is to meet our partner organizations where they are at, saying "yes"–and then working to apply a set of technical skills to accelerate and amplify these organizations' impactful work.

I’m beyond excited to employ this “yes, and…” framework in the South Bend - Elkhart Region over the next two years.