On the way to visit my family on Ohio, my boyfriend and I had an odd moment as we drove by the University of Dayton. As members of the colorguard and drumline universe, we both dream about the University of Dayton Arena. It was strange to drive by the university, in a month other than April, and see it look so desolate. The University of Dayton I am accustomed to is full of glitter, confetti, lipstick-kissed walls, excited patrons in their cutest clothes, tearful age-outs, and screaming high school students. It seems impossible to me that every person who walks into that arena for a physical fitness class or a basketball game or possibly spring commencement does not know what goes on during those two weeks in April. I spend around 20 or more hours every weekend from the end of September to the middle of April in a gym sweating and crying and just generally giving myself to this activity in order to gain a chance at one performance on that floor. I have shed more tears, busted more blood vessels, spent more money, and missed more family functions for this sport than I care to think about.
Despite all of this, you will never hear me say that it isn't worth it. I consider myself extremely fortunate to find something I feel this passionate about at such a young age. It seems absurd to me that something I care so much about can completely be off another person's radar. They can walk across that gym floor and look up at the jumbo-tron and not picture a performer's face, contorted with joyful weeping after their finals run, plastered across the screen. This is just another building at their school. It is not what they dream about. It is nothing to strive for.
Then it hits me. They're right. There is nothing special about UD Arena. It is just another gym at just another university. But there is everything special about this activity. Colorguard gives us something to strive for and people to grow with. There is everything special about these performers, about people who put their lives on hold because they like the way it feels to know they are putting on a good show for a room full of strangers.
We do not rehearse every weekend and practice during the week for that arena. Maybe that is where you will stand for your final performance, where you will throw your last toss, land your last leap, hear the last cheers of the crowd for the season. It may be the place all of those things happen, but it is not your goal. Your goal is to bond with your team, to know that you won't let each other down no matter how hard things may get. Your goal is growth, to end the season better than you started. Your goal is to perform, to spin and dance and express your gratitude for this activity in a room full of people who love it as much as you do.
These things do not come from a gym. These things could happen anywhere else and would mean just as much. WGI Finals is a fantastic week full of pageantry and passion, but it is not because of where it is held. Each and every performer who steps a (pointed) foot onto that floor is what gives the arena its magic. Maybe UD Arena is where your final performance will be held, but know that it is your performance that makes that arena a place worth being.
