2025 Wrap Up: On the Road with Sketches of Minnesota

A confession: when we started Sketches of Minnesota, I secretly expected that at once or twice…it wouldn’t work.

That may be a scandalous admission to put in the Minnesota Humanities Center blog. After all, in just two years, Sketches has become a hallmark program for both MHC and Danger Boat Productions, the civics-inspired improv company I co-founded. And here I am admitting that at the outset, I had doubts it’d work every single time…

But think about the novelty and ambition of this effort. Sketches invites Minnesota communities—big, small, and very small—to apply for a civic gathering unlike anything done anywhere else in the country. We work with local hosts to bring together as wide a cross section of their town as possible: different ages, backgrounds, identities, politics, and lived experiences. Then we gather them all in one room for a shared meal and a conversation about what makes their community great, what challenges they’re navigating, and what they hope for the future.

Just getting Midwesterners to spend an evening talking with strangers is ambitious enough.

But Sketches goes further. As dinner conversations unfold, our team of wildly talented improv comedians listens. They hear what people appreciate about their communities, what frustrates them, and what makes them laugh. And then—without scripts, notes, or a safety net—they perform a show reflecting those stories back to the room in real time through improv theater.

To be clear, I always believed the format had potential. We’d seen similar success with The Theater of Public Policy, our other improv-meets-civics project. But even with that experience, I assumed that somewhere along the line we’d have a night that simply didn’t land. People might not show up. Or they’d come but remain politely reserved. Or—every performer’s nightmare—no one would laugh.

My fears were misplaced! After nearly two years, 19 towns, and hundreds of Minnesotans, we have yet to have a Sketches fail. So far (I’m knocking on wood as I write this) they’ve all been hits. Most importantly, they’ve consistently done the real work: bringing people together, getting them talking across divides, and occasionally jumpstarting real action on local issues.

The majority of the credit of Sketches’ success lies with the communities themselves. National headlines insist we’re more divided than ever. Yet in every town we visit we find people of all walks of life and all political persuasions who want to build connections, understanding, and stronger ties among neighbors.

On our end, one of the reasons Sketches works is the facilitated conversations. We’ve learned that if you ask anyone in Minnesota, “What’s great about your town?” you’ll get an enthusiastic answer. “The art scene!” “The lakes!” “The peace and quiet!” “All the things to do!” Minnesotans love where they live. They value place and connection. Starting a conversation from shared pride creates room to talk honestly about harder topics.

Early on, I also worried (I worry a lot) people wouldn’t share their community’s challenges with outsiders. Again, I was wrong (I am wrong a lot). In town after town, people open up. Almost everywhere, residents talk about the difficulty of making friends as a newcomer. In nearly every place we’ve visited—from Braham and Big Fork to Rochester and New Ulm—housing affordability comes up within minutes.

After a recent show in Otter Tail County, someone approached me afterward and asked, “This is usually a pretty reserved community, but you really got us all talking. How did you do that?”

I don’t have a neat answer. But I think part of it is rooted in the promise of the humanities. When we come into a community, we’re not telling people what they should care about—we’re listening to what they already care about. We ask questions, we listen with curiosity, and then we bring their stories to the stage. And we never take ourselves too seriously. That combination lets everyone participate. It creates room for joy and for laughter, even when the subjects are serious. It reflects the values MHC and Danger Boat have shared for years.

Sketches has been heart-filling work, and I’m thrilled to say it’s growing. In 2026, we’re expanding the tour and partnering with additional organizations eager to collaborate. We’ll open applications in January for communities interested in hosting a future gathering. We’re also planning return visits to a few towns from the first two years, focusing on one specific issue residents identified as worth digging into further.

Keep an eye on this newsletter for the official announcement of the next Sketches application cycle. And in the meantime, you don’t need to wait for us to spark connection. Try asking someone at the grocery store or on your block, “What do you love about our town?”

You might be surprised by the story that follows.