It was during the two years of weekly three-hour classes that I learned—or perhaps remembered—to be fearless. Unlearning how to think on stage and, rather than act, react; figuring out "the game" of the scene each time. I learned how to trust my stage partners and to heighten the scene in accordance with the rules set forth by the progenitors of the very stage on which I was standing. I had three different weekly sessions which took place on the hallowed Main Stage, where the likes of Belushi, Nichols and May, Carrell, and Fey performed.
Attending classes at Second City was without a doubt one of the most special and defining experiences of my life. It was the scariest and smartest decision I'd ever made. It ever-so-slightly changed the direction of my life, and my perspective as well. What I experienced each week in class found its way into every aspect of my life. The teamwork I learned caused my performance at work to increase exponentially. I began to look at "problems" as "challenges," where the key lay with finding the game. Improv became a metaphor for life.
The satisfaction and intensity of being fearless on a weekly basis propelled my life forward at an accelerated rate. But I have to say, it wasn't the most valuable gift by any means. Aside from "graduating" Second City with a sense of accomplishment, I left with four of the closest friends I've ever had. As I look back on my tenure there, the rules I learned on stage give way to the long-lasting and harassing friendships that were formed while learning them. At the time in your life when most people aren't in the position to make new friends, I made some incredible ones. Another reward of fearlessness.