When I was in high school I was involved in many extra-curricular activities. I was a football trainer, debater, band nerd, student council member, All-American mascot, Science Bowl team member, and many others. The most important though was theater. I'd been waiting my entire life to get to high school just so I could act in plays. I thought I would get there and immediately be the best there ever was, I'd been preparing for my entire life after all, so how could I not be? Turns out thinking your the best, and being the best are two completely different things. I eventually got to a point where you could maybe say I had some talent, but it took a few important lessons to get there.

1. Natural talent is no replacement for hard work.

My freshman year I auditioned for a spot on the one act play cast. By audition what I mean is that I downloaded two monologues five minutes before and gave a half-hearted performance. I remember thinking I'd nailed it. I was gonna be a lead, and while just a freshman. My confidence wasn't just undeserved, but outrageous. I got to school the next week when the cast was announced, ready to bask in the glory of my talent, only to find out that not only did I not get the lead, but I didn't even get cast. I was named an alternate. I was heartbroken, I'd worked so hard, only to not have my talents recognized. Except that isn't what happened at all. I gave a lackluster audition and got a lackluster result. I was down on myself for a long time thinking I was terrible at the one thing I wanted to do most, but after a long talk with my theater teacher I realized that if I had practiced even a little bit my performance could've been better. I learned then and there that I could be the most talented actor on Earth, but without practice there would always be someone better.

2. Celebrate your successes, but remember your failures.

One Act was a competitive event. Schools from all over would perform, and the best ones would get to move on to the next competition. My first year on the cast we won the first competition, but lost the second. All of the great feelings from the week before were dashed in an instant. I felt hollow. I couldn't handle it and ended up drinking until I forgot all about it. It wasn't until my junior year when we performed a play called Korczak's Children. It was heavy and emotional, but more importantly it was well acted, not just by me but from every member of the cast. It was a hard play to do because of its Holocaust based subject matter. It didn't stop us though, we poured our hearts into this play. All the stops were pulled out, the chemistry between us was perfect. When our performance was finished the applause from the audience was drowned out by their own tears and we knew we had it in the bag. We lost. The bus ride home was the quietest moment of my life. After we got home and began unpacking one by one we all began to cry and hug each other. It was one of the hardest moments of my life, but in the end one of the best. I learned then what it truly meant to be humbled. Sometimes you can work yourself to the bone, and still fail, and that's okay. I learned to use the failure to make myself even better. Now I remember my failures as a way to stay grounded. The worlds not fair, and it never will be.

3. Being great isn't a solo act.

My senior year was probably the most difficult of my theater career. It was certainly the hardest. It felt like I was practicing ten times as much as usual, I was exhausted everyday, and just worn out overall. On top of all of it I was now in a leadership role, something that was brand new to me, because of my seniority. It felt like I was burning myself at both ends and I even considered quitting at one point. I'm glad I didn't, because come to find out, I wasn't the only one that felt this way. Everyone in the cast was constantly exhausted, our crew was constantly exhausted, and our director/coach was probably more exhausted than any of us. I knew then and there that I was being selfish even entertaining the thought of throwing in the towel. How dare I be willing to quit when everyone else was killing themselves without complaint. I wasn't above them because of my age, or my role in the play. It was an equal playing field and it took me far too long to realize it. That's when it finally clicked with me that the stage was my home, and the rest of the cast and crew were my family.

Nobody joins a team expecting to learn about life but more often then not, if you pay enough attention, you do. I'm a better person, I'm a happier person, because of my time spent in theater. I don't really do any acting anymore, but I wouldn't change my time on stage for anything in the world.