The Epiphany I Didn’t Know I Needed (Or: How a Web Designer Taught an Improv Guy How Contracts Work)

If you’ve known me or Planet Improv for any length of time, you know I’m usually the guy in the room making quick decisions, yes-and-ing my way through unexpected plot twists, and occasionally wondering why my neck hurts (spoiler: it’s because I’ve been running around classrooms doing fake accents for over two decades).

For years, I operated under a very specific, deeply ingrained mindset about my job. I knew my obligation to the schools, community centers, and non-profits we visit. I knew what I owed the students: 100% of my energy, a safe space to fail, and the tools to build real-world resilience through applied improv. I viewed Planet Improv as the perpetual giver. We show up, we give everything we’ve got, and we hope the door stays open for the next session.

Then I sat down with a BNI partner who is currently donating a brand-new website to Planet Improv while generously throwing in some solid, no-nonsense business advice. Over the last month, we’ve been rolling up our sleeves to simplify and focus Planet Improv’s core message.

During one of our recent chats, he dropped a truth bomb on me that completely shifted my perspective. He looked at me and basically asked:

“Scott, you know what you owe everyone else… but what do they owe you? And what do both of you owe the people who keep your lights on?”

I froze. My brain did the mental equivalent of dropping its prop sword mid-scene.

I had never thought about it like that.

In the non-profit world, especially in the arts, it is so easy to fall into a place where you feel like you just must be grateful for whatever space or attention you’re given. But my partner helped me realize something crucial: Partnership is a two-way street.

When Planet Improv walk into a school like Wilson STEM Academy to deliver a Drama and Social-Emotional Learning elective, we aren’t just showing up to “do a fun activity.” We are committing roughly 460 hours—92 instructional days—of specialized instruction. That isn’t just my time and sweat; that is a massive investment of non-profit donor funds.

Those donors—the incredible human beings who write checks, support our fundraisers, and keep Planet Improv alive aren’t just supporting us. They are investing in resilience for kids.

And suddenly, the math clicked.

If Planet Improv donates hundreds of hours of professional instruction, but a classroom lacks basic structural support. If cell phones are distracting, if safety rules aren’t enforced, or if we’re treated like a dumping ground rather than an intentional learning environment—we aren’t just wasting our time. We are failing our donors.

Both Planet Improv and the organizations we partner with owe something to those donors. We owe them stewardship. We owe them accountability. We owe them a guaranteed environment where their money actually transforms a child’s life, rather than getting swallowed up by chaos.

That conversation was the catalyst for a whole new way of doing business at Planet Improv. For the 2026–2027 school year, we’ve drafted a clear, professional Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) for our school partnerships. It spells out our commitment to high-energy, top-tier instruction, but it also clearly outlines what the educational and community organizations bring to the table: active participation, administrative discipline support, and a shared commitment to keeping the learning spaces safe and focused.

It turns out that setting boundaries and asking for mutual accountability isn’t selfish—it’s the highest form of respect we can show to our mission, our school partners, and the donors who make it all possible.

Who knew a web design chat would turn into an existential breakthrough? (Definitely not me, but hey… Yes, And.)

Scott Pacitti

Founder / Executive Director, Planet Improv, Inc.