In
2013,
I
took
two
improv
classes
back-to-back.
For
16
weeks,
I
learned
the
basics
of
improv
and
participated
in
two
shows
for
family
and
friends.
Anyone
who
knew
me
then
wondered
what
I
was
doing.
I
was
about
as
shy
and
introverted
as
they
come.
Trying
to
be
funny
to
a
theater
of
strangers
was
not
on
anyone’s
bingo
card
for
me.
But
I
was
a
lawyer,
a
civil
defense
trial
lawyer,
in
fact,
and
I
had
to
overcome
my
stage
fright
and
fear
of
public
speaking
or
be
relegated
to
a
backstop
role.
I
tried
Toastmasters.
That
was
going
well,
but
it
felt
like
splashing
in
the
kiddie
pool.
Improv
seemed
like
jumping
into
a
shark
tank.
I
told
myself
I
could
always
drop
out.
Just
try
it.
And
I
did.
The
instructor
was
very
supportive.
The
other
students
were
the
same.
It
was
a
safe
space,
an
environment
where
we
could
be
our
authentic
selves
and
tap
into
the
humor
and
quirkiness
of
our
experiences.
Each
course
was
eight
weeks
long
—
a
class
held
for
seven
consecutive
Tuesdays,
followed
by
a
show
we
put
on
in
the
eighth
week.
I
did
two
rounds
of
this.
Because
of
scheduling
conflicts,
I
couldn’t
stick
with
additional
courses.
(Years
later,
I
encouraged
a
workmate
to
take
improv,
and
she
took
all
classes
and
joined
their
improv
group.
She’s
a
practicing
lawyer
by
day
and
performs
with
an
improv
group
at
night.)
However,
those
two
courses
and
what
I
learned
from
them
have
stuck
with
me.
First,
breathe.
We
underestimate
the
power
of
breathing
to
relax
us
and
to
project
our
voices.
We
started
each
class
with
breathing
and
voice
exercises
to
control
our
breath
and
projection.
Yes,
and.
In
improv,
you’re
taught
to
take
whatever
the
others
on
the
stage
give
you.
And
someone
says
you’re
eating
an
octopus,
you
don’t
say,
“No,
I’m
eating
fries.”
You
run
with
eating
an
octopus.
Often,
in
our
cases,
unexpected
things
happen.
We
can’t
change
the
circumstances.
We
must
“yes,
and”
it.
Work
with
what
you
have.
You
only
have
so
much
control
in
an
improv
sketch.
You
know
the
basic
premise,
but
you
have
no
idea
what
anyone
else
on
the
stage
may
say.
You
work
with
what
you
get
and
don’t
spend
a
second
wishing
what
was
said
or
done
was
different.
It
is
what
it
is,
and
you
must
work
with
it.
Thinking
on
your
feet.
Improv
taught
me,
first
and
foremost,
to
be
in
the
moment,
sense
the
other
improv
players
and
the
audience,
and
to
be
nimble
on
my
feet
(and
with
my
body
language
and
words).
Learning
how
to
react
in
real
time
is
a
skill
we
can
all
learn
and
benefit
from.
Turning
lemons
into
lemonade.
Something
you
said
may
not
land
with
the
audience.
You
take
things
in
a
different
direction.
You
and
your
troupe
take
a
different
approach.
You
can’t
simply
bow
and
say
goodnight.
The
skit
isn’t
over.
You
make
the
best
of
a
bad
situation,
much
like
we
sometimes
need
to
do
with
our
cases.
Getting
out
of
your
comfort
zone.
Doing
something
like
improv
takes
us
out
of
our
comfort
zones
and
shows
us
we
can
do
a
lot
more
than
we
think
we
can.
Overcoming
impostor
syndrome. Do
you
want
to
overcome
imposter
syndrome?
Do
improv.
People
who
have
the
mettle
and
nerve
to
do
improv
are
not
impostors.
Most
major
cities
offer
improv
classes.
They’re
offered
at
night
or
on
weekends,
and
they’re
safe
places
to
be
yourself.
If
you
can
make
it
work,
seriously
consider
taking
a
class
or
two.
Who
knows.
You,
like
my
friend,
may
join
the
troupe.
Frank
Ramos
is
a
partner
at
Goldberg
Segalla
in
Miami,
where
he
practices
commercial
litigation,
products,
and
catastrophic
personal
injury. You
can
follow
him
on LinkedIn,
where
he
has
about
80,000
followers.
Kathryn
