Hope. It's What We Are Given

Have you ever wondered what sustains this activity of ours? Think about this for a minute. Color guard is an activity that when you step out of the gym and enter the light of the world, no one really understands what we do. To us, we are the activity that backed up Lady Ga Ga at the Super Bowl with lighted air rifles. To us, we are the reason people tune in to the Macy's parade every year. To us, we are the reason football players have something to do on Friday nights. To us, we are the reason the world turns. 

Let's be honest, though. With the many advances we have made as an activity, the reality is that outside of the gym we are simply just flags in a gym. Do you remember that phrase? I remember the first time I ever heard it. I was judging a local show when a guard instructor had a virtual meltdown in critique when he realized that his show was not going to be the work of art he had hoped it would be. He cried. He pouted. He even begged for more points. And in the not so distant distance, a GE judge said, "I understand that you are upset, but try to remember that it's just flags in a gym." Flags in a gym. That's all it really is when you think about it. Flags in a gym. Usually rifles. Usually sabres. Sometimes something really strange, but in all reality at the end of the day, it's just flags in a gym. But my friend, we know that it's oh so much more than that. Our little flags in a gym is really the way we as a tribe express hope.

Inside the flag that spins and the snap of the rifle catch is the reason we sustain ourselves and the reason we've been around since someone looked at a flag waving on pole and thought, "I wonder what would happen if I spun that?" Hope is what moves us from the football field to the gym; season after season. It is hope that brings us back in January after a defeating April and then allows us to focus on a field of silk during the crushing hot summer days of band camp. 

Hope is who we are and can be a lesson for those lost in life not knowing where to turn. If you watch Disney movies like I do, you see that there is a common thread that runs through all of them and sometimes that thread is painfully obvious, but other times there are hidden gems that make you hope for this two dimensional cartoon of a character to survive and find their way in the darkness of the world. Take Dori for example. Dori only wants to find her parents. She goes through great lengths to reunite, but the true hope comes when you see that her parents left seashells along the ocean floor to guide Dori back home. Their hope guided her home. Hope is the indescribable feeling that tomorrow will be better; that there is something out there that exceeds this moment that which you are experiencing right now. They say that it is when we give up hope is when our soul decides to die. When my grandmother was about 80, she met a man at church and formed a friendship to the point where she called this man her boyfriend. When he passed away, I could see hope leave my grandmother and it was then I realized that even the elderly need that hope of love that sustains our very essence of being. 

Hope is what pushes us during the pressure of March to get to the championships floor in April. No matter how bad things have gone, there is a hope that something at championships will go better than it has gone so far. That dream of what to come propels us to push harder and go beyond what we could have ever imagined. With hope, we stand up, stand proud, and look into the eyes of the judges and say, "Watch this."

When life goes awry and the skies turn dark on our lives, it's color guard that keeps us going. Among death, disease, sadness, and despair; it is hope that takes up back to the gym, because it is in the gym where we feel safe. We are among friends and those friends are who we call our family. Desmond Tutu, the great South African social rights activist once said of hope that there is a light despite of the darkness and hope lets us see that light. When our jobs aren't going well we have the gym. When our marriages fall apart, we have the gym. When we lose our faith in humanity, we still have the gym. 

We always have the gym. I write this today, because being in the gym makes me lose my sense of desperation happening in the world. Never in my lifetime have I seen such sadness and anger that embodies the country the way it does right now. I have worked in human services my entire adult life and have seen despair in the eyes of the homeless mother and fear in the kids sentenced to prison for minor drug offenses, but never have I felt so lost among my fellow man as it is a feeling we all seem to share right now. I'm afraid for our future and I'm afraid for my son. Will he ever have to go to fight an unjust war, because our leaders are preaching fear and lies? Will he have health insurance? Will he be properly educated? In the midst of the anger that builds up inside of me is hope that sits inside a gymnasium of kids waiting to be taught and waiting to be judged. They pour their hearts out while their hands sweat through worn tattered gloves. My hope stems from a new generation of instructors who just want to make their mark on the activity and I feel such joy watching them bring their show ideas to life. When I'm in the gym I lose all sense of reality of the outside world. I can go through an entire weekend from wheels up to wheels down and never once think about the hatred spewing out of Washington, because the gym is my oasis. On any given Saturday in March, I can feel like I have always felt with good friends and good times, because our pageantry activity is timeless. With the after rehearsal cocktail and long night chats about how to make the activity better, we lose ourselves with each others creativity and absolute passion. Over time, some friends have passed on and others we just simply moved on, but the memory is there and with that memory is those of us who won't give up creating until our time to pass has come. 

Generation after generation have taken the floor to have their one moment in front of the audience and later, when life's horrors knock on their door they use that moment to say, "No thank you. I think I'll spin my flag." That flag, whether it is the one that sits in the corner of their childhood bedroom or whether it's just the memory of the flag, will always be what moves us forward. The friendship. The tears. The sweat. The love. The anger. The stress. It is always a part of us and it is through those days on the floor that allows to keep moving on.

It's like that song.

To every thing

There is a season

And a time to every purpose under Heaven

A time to be born, a time to die

A time to plant, a time to reap

A time to build up, a time to break down

A time to dance, a time to mourn

A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

A time of love, a time of hate

A time to win, a time to lose

A time for peace, I swear it's not to late.

When we are in the gym, it is our purpose and it is our time. It's our time to forget about the news of the day and to remember about hard work with good people. We have our fights, but we always have our love. We have hope. 

We have hope that the show will get better each night. We have hope that our score will go up at the next show. We have hope we will make finals. We hope that the kids will have a good run through. We have hope that we will win. We have hope the kids will come back next year. We have hope that next year will be better. We hope to make new friends in a gym we visit just once while we are helping out a good friend. We have hope. The entire activity is built around hope and that is our greatest gift that is rarely acknowledged in Facebook posts celebrating the end of a Saturday night full of youth filled performances.

In my life, in all of our lives, we have had challenges. I have had challenges. It was a cold day many years ago in March where my little color guard teenage world came crashing down around me. I remember thinking, "...but all I want to do is perform." And so I did. I eventually found my way back to the gym and after every life challenge through work, relationships, and parenting; I always found my way back. I have threatened to quit, but I have always made it back. Each year has landed me in gyms and on football fields around the country and in the end it has always been hope that kept me bringing me back for more. I am very grateful for the winter guard season I am having. I have made new friends and reunited with some very dear ones that go back decades. It was hope that brought old back together and it was the belief that there were people we have yet to meet that brought new friends together for the first time. It's always hope and my hope is that the rest of your season is one of friendship and love and that next year we will find each other again in a gym somewhere and share a hug, a laugh, and kind word.

Good luck as you push to the end. 

From Performer to Performer: Stop Whining!

In my short guard career, as a performer, I have come to accept that there is always good with the bad. Thankfully, I was given the chance to march with Paradigm this past season and we had a phenomenal season. As with every colorguard however, we had our share of issues and struggles. I have been on both ends of the spectrum serving as both a performer for an independent team and an instructor for a high school guard simultaneously, and both have their share of headaches. This post is being written in the hopes that maybe it can alleviate problems for both members and staff.

First things first, whether it be independent or high school, if you commit to it, nothing about it is optional. Nothing! Synchronization can only be achieved by countless hours of cleaning and repeating so that training styles match and that can only be achieved if everyone is present. Competitions are the whole purpose for rehearsals, so if you somehow manage to miss those, you've wasted a lot of time for performers and staff. We all know emergencies arise, and when it is a true emergency, we can all relate and understand, but missing a rehearsal because you forgot you had class or work on a rehearsal the day of is not considered an emergency, it's a careless mistake. Learn to plan ahead!!!

Secondly, along with your responsibility to be present, be on time! For high school kids, that means getting there fifteen minutes early and making sure you're prepared for practice. For the independent performers, we have all known the struggle of pulling a floor and setting up with less than everyone present. As a team, everyone should be present to help. One of the things guard should be teaching all of us, is what teamwork is all about and being a team, means not just working on the show, but working together on the not so fun stuff as well.

Also, missing stretch makes you more likely to get injured at rehearsal. No one needs that headache! So, be proactive with your time. Stretch is also the time when everyone should come together to get focused and mentally ready for the day.

Third, realize that unless you have forty other members on the floor with you, your attitude will  affect the staff and your teammates as well. You can literally suck the life out of your fellow teammates and not realize you're doing it. I've had the chance of working with several different kinds of people over the years and I have had a real appreciation for those who were going through struggles and still managed to smile during through the pain. We all know injuries can be painful, but you cannot let it defeat you otherwise it will defeat everyone else around you as well. Which leads me to my next point:

Make smart decisions while away from rehearsals and shows. I know I am guilty of failing to exercise everyday and always eat right, but roller skating the night before a show isn't exactly the best idea! Take care of soreness as best as you can in between rehearsals and treat your body like an athlete would, because that's what we are...ATHLETES.

Do us all a favor and don't simply join because you want your name on the back of a shirt. If you're there and you're paying money to work your butt off, WORK YOUR BUTT OFF! Don't be that person that gets called out all of the time for giving half the effort at rehearsals and all your effort in performances. Try to be consistent in energy, performance and technical training so that it is easier to get into character for shows.

Lastly, while working your butt off, you may find that things are not so easy. Progress and perfection is never easy. Realize that nothing in life is ever easy, but remember that you've already started something, so why not make it worth it and achieve what you're pushing for? After all, there are other people around you doing the exact same thing, help them by helping yourself!

The Never Ending Question...Why

When this blog was created in 2013, it was created with the intent that any person in

the activity could write for it...performers specifically. This is a touching look at the life of a current performer of Paradigm, Nicole Goldberg. In this post, she speaks of the struggle to get her parents to understand colorguard. It's a look at what many of us have faced in the fight for pageantry. Also, it is a look at what young people in our culture face, specifically young women, for the right to individualism. 

The first time I ever saw my brother spin his bow in sparring class, I knew I wanted to spin. I didn’t know exactly what I would be spinning, but I was enthralled by watching that bow and I knew I would do something similar one day. Growing up, I preferred bugs and books to Barbies and beanie babies, which was a disappointment to my beauty queen mother, but she coped, hoping I would grow out of my tomboy phase as I got older. My favorite movie growing up was Cadet Kelly on Disney Channel. It’s a movie about an expressive and very eccentric young girl who gets sent to military school and becomes a feature on her schools drill team. So, when I was younger and my mother approached me about possibly starting baton classes. I showed her a scene from Cadet Kelly in which they spin rifle and told her that is more of what I wanted to do. I must have seen smoke come out of her ears. The first question out of her mouth was “Why?” and my answer was, “Because it looks cool!” That was the end of that conversation. 

As I got older, dance became a passion; hip hop specifically. I cringed at the thought of ballet and after finally agreeing to take my first ballet class, I left after three months because of the constant abuse I was getting from the teacher for my turnout and my point. After 6th grade, I quit dancing and gained 30 pounds. I became super lazy and eating became my outlet. So, when high school rolled around, I swore to my mom I would get involved in a club or sport to keep me busy. Being captain of her cheerleading squad, it was only proper for my mom to keep bringing cheerleading up as a (biased) option. I brought up spinning a gun again and her fist clenched so tight I thought she would cry. Again...

“Why” she asked.

"Because it looks cool!" 

“Why not something more feminine?”

To avoid the argument, I told her I had cheerleader auditions and went to color guard auditions for my high school instead. She was a little surprised when I walked out with a flag instead of pom poms, but she didn’t say a word besides “How much is this going to cost?” The first year was extremely trying for me. Let’s just say, my nickname for flag tosses was "Catapult." Of course, being 13 and a girl, my reaction to my frustration was to cry to my mother. She responded by asking me encouraging me to give up.  "Maybe it’s just not your thing,” she would say.  If anyone knows me personally, they know that comments like that make me work harder. The end of my freshman year, I got the award for most improved. So, it was only fitting I wanted to go back sophomore year. “Why?” my mother consistently asked. After much arguing and begging, sophomore year came and went. Junior year was the hardest year I had in high school. I was marching captain, taking seven regular school classes, two online classes, three college courses and head of my youth leadership team at my church. I had my hands full and was always tired or cranky from all of the stress I put on myself. As per usual “Why stay with color guard if you’re so stressed?” We came to a deal. If I got at least a B in every class I was taking, I could continue guard through senior year without the questions. Don’t get me wrong, my parents came to football games and competitions because they wanted to watch, but they didn’t understand what kept bringing me back. Senior year, I was head captain. We broke 70 that year in FFCC championships and for my team that was huge. I graduated with honors and as a thank you to my high school guard, I went back to help the year after.

 “Why?" My mother asked once again. "I thought this was over for you once high school ended.” 

I told her I was getting paid to come back so she didn’t believe I was completely wasting my time. I told her I wasn’t marching, only helping, so I was making money instead of spending it. Let me just say, helping but not marching when you’re physically able to march is like putting wine in front of my instructors and telling them not to drink it. It killed me that I wasn’t marching again. I fell into a huge depression that spiraled out of control and found Paradigm in the nick of time. When I proposed marching again to my parents, it was like I told them I shot the dog.

“Here it goes!” I thought to myself. “Why spend money you don’t have for something that won’t benefit you later? Why waste time when you could be working?" I had heard these questions adnausiem. 

Why why why why why! 

At times, I even started asking why and didn’t have my answer until I went to Dayton this year. 

Why, because I am the girl who hides behind her books and her desk and avoids holding a conversation because I feel awkward. 

Why, because I am the girl who hates confrontation because I don’t want people looking at me. 

Why, because I am the girl that tears herself apart for everything that I am not. 

But when I am out on the mat or the field, I feel like someone. I feel like I am a part of something greater than me and I am bringing happiness and smiles (hopefully) to the faces of those watching me. I push myself to my limits for a reason. I don’t pay my fees for the memories! I do it because it makes me feel alive. I know it’s hard to explain why anyone would want to spend money to sleep on a gym floor for a couple of weekends, but if you saw the passion in the eyes of the performers at Dayton, you would understand why we all do it. We feel alive and the family I have found in winterguard makes it that much better. I am not scared to be myself, or whether or not my teammates always like me. they are stuck with me and they will get over it. I may not always like what my staff members say to me or make me do, but I’ll get over it and I’ll thank them in the long run because they’re teaching me life lessons I’ll need to know later on. Like being on time and forgiving myself when I make a mistake. 

Before winterguard, I didn’t feel like I had a purpose or anyone to really turn to. In this sport and in the program I call home...Paradigm, I found people who totally get it and want nothing more than to help me be successful. I know my mother is right when she says I’m losing money, but I don’t care! Money truly cannot buy happiness. Happiness comes from putting in work and seeing results while having people there to support you and THAT why I march. So now, when my mother asks why guard? I say because money cannot buy happiness.

Karma...Colorguad Style

I once heard an interview by an Olympic gymnast who had a less than stellar "All Around" performance and ended up NOT placing where she thought she would place, which was atop the medal stand. She didn't hear her country's national anthem played for her and she didn't go home with a medal she thought she had so richly deserved. In the interview,  she was asked this question, "What happened on that balance beam? Why did you lose control?" Her answer stunned me as I thought she would have given some excuse about her ability to focus or some technical reason related to balance and control. She simply said, "I believed my own press and didn't put the work in needed to handle the pressure of the world stage." She went on to talk about arrogance, missed opportunities, and the importance of the team. More than anything, she talked about pressure. Any Olympian will tell you that there is no greater pressure than that of the world stage. They can compete against the same athletes year round in competitions all over the world, but there is something about the pressure that comes with the Olympics. The whole world is watching and you better be prepared.

Colorguard is no different. It's just a different stage, with different athletes. Anyone who has taught long enough has seen that performer who believed their own press. They thought they were better than they were. They didn't believe the staff when they heard the word, "karma."

"I would be careful if I were you. Karma is a bitch to contend with in Dayton." 

Karma will hit you when you least expect it and will get you because you believed your own press. I love that phrase. "Don't believe your own press." I use to work for a company where the CEO would start every management meeting with, "We will not believe our own press. We can be beat. We are fallible and our press can go from positive to negative just by one simple misstep." She started every general staff meeting with that speech as well and then she challenged all of us to strive to be better and to continue to set the standard of excellence for non-profit organizations.

Applying that same theory to a colorguard headed into championships is paramount. It can apply to anyone. The high school guard just hoping to make finals at their local championships or the world guard hoping to medal in Dayton. Your luck can turn on a dime in the last week of the season and often times it's your own karma that did it to you; not the judges and not the audience.



So, back to the performer who we often say will face the hand of karma upon the most inopportune time. Will it be in prelims when every tenth counts? Will it be in finals when the video just happened to be on you at that moment of the big rifle catch that ends the sequential, that just happens to be on the subtle note that ends the phrase? Will it come in the form of a drop? A broken sabre hilt? A broken rifle strap? A sail before a big toss? When will it come and in what form will it take?

I use the word "karma" rather jokingly, as I'm not quite sure I believe in karma, as much as I believe in the failure to prepare and the power of arrogance to take over the mind. I believe in energy and how positive energy can create a performance that is fully assured and confident and how negative energy can create epic level nightmares on the arena floor in Dayton. Preparation takes all season and requires ongoing dedication to your team and commitment to the process.

When you spend your season bereft of dedication, arrogant and undisciplined, then the karma of championships will surely find you. There is no way to counter a season of waiting for others to do the work you were supposed to do. In those times when you should have been practicing, but played on the internet instead or the times when you blamed a teammate on a mistake that was really yours, then be careful of karma. When you prayed for the season to end soon and complained that the staff was too hard and going overboard, then watch out. In those moments when you thought, "I'm better than all of them and next year I'm marching with the "Grass Is Clearly Greener On The Other Side Guard," then duck and cover, because that level of arrogance can only be met with Biblical style, Old Testament retribution. 

You can't counter in one weekend and in one show, the pressure that is mounted upon a guard stepping on the floor for prelims. Your mind plays games with you. Thoughts of "This is our last performance" or "It all comes down to this one show," will haunt you all the way up to the announcement that starts with, "Next on the floor..." This is why preparation is vital. Preparation lies in your muscles reacting exactly the way they were trained and your mind creating positive energy around every second you're on the floor. 

So if you failed up to this point to give it everything you had and you have failed to be the best teammate possible and you used excuses to not be the best YOU that you can be, then step up today and admit to that. If you are going to Dayton you have one week. One week to perfect your mindset. Turn your mind into a force to be reckoned with. Use the power of positive thought. Use the power of the team. Professional level athletes don't let down the week before the world championships and they don't believe their own press (Denver Bronco's). They push harder. They manage their diet and sleep. They practice and practice hard. They push themselves and their teammates. They control their mind. They meditate. More and more athletes are talking about meditation to create positive energy and block distraction. One week until Dayton. In that week my friend...you can make the difference and that week is a lifetime in the world of competition and the tears that come won't be tears of regret, but tears that only come from that feeling of a season lived fully and spherically. 

The Words of a Performer: Her Struggles and Passion

This post is the first in a series of blog posts from performers to performers. This blog post is from Torie Lawton, a 19 year old, student at Lake Sumter State College. Current and first year member of Paradigm. In this post, she describes her first moments in colorguard and how it shaped and changed her life.

Growing up in my household I was always encouraged to stay involved with extracurricular activities, and with that being said...I always did. However, after trying almost every sport imaginable, I learned I wasn't the athletic type of girl. So for a while I stuck to the arts and crafts (hey it counts, right?) I'm not going to lie, I never really figured myself for the performing arts and when it came down to it, I was always the first one to get down and dirty with the guys.

What Started it All:

What really sparked my curiosity in color guard? Well simply put; my neighbor down the road. She babysat me for as long as I could remember, so walking home from school her house was always the first place I went. Almost everyday we would be outside as she practiced; sitting there mesmerized by the flag I was the one who always pushed her to keep going, simply because I loved watching.  Shortly after, I took a trip up north to visit family. Arriving at the airport that night my aunt took me to my first high school football game to watch my cousin perform at halftime. Needless to say, I was excited, especially when I saw how color guard was included in that night's list of events. It was from that point on I realized this was something I wanted to give a try.

A New Beginning:

High school is always the biggest transition. It’s a new place, new people, not to mention older people, and of course new standards. A teens worst fear in high school is not being able to find a place to fit in. For me, just like everyone else, that's where I stood. With the last couple weeks of middle school left it finally hit me; I'm talking a step towards bigger things. Lucky for me recruiting happened that last week before summer, and instantly it felt like colorguard was my "calling." 

The week of tryouts was INSANE! They had me trying things I never thought I could do, which of course included attempting to move my body in impossible ways (at least for me). Never in a week have I hit so many emotions, all of which varying from excitement to pure terror. When the day finally came to show the directors what we had learned I was confident, I mean come on why wouldn't I be? I got the routine going good and with my best friend by my side, what could go wrong?

"Attention: As we work through the list we will call you in one by one for your audition, we wish you the best of luck and we'll see you on the other side."

"The other side...what was this Heaven or Hell!"

Wait what!?!? One by one? Why can't we go in pairs...?  Suddenly panic mode set in. I was freaking out! No way was I about to go in there alone with a bunch of people I didn't know. Hasn’t anyone heard of the term stage fright? Well, come to find out...I had a huge case of that. One of the returning members saw what was going on and came over to reassure me and cheer me up. With her helping me through the routine before I got called the unimaginable happened...somehow she had managed to hit herself with a large amount of force while spinning the flag. Lets just say watching that happen totally made me forget about me being next in line, and more concerned about getting this chick to an ER. I was literally terrorized, and refused to believe that she would be ok. But what could I do? Everyone there was pushing me through the doors that lead to the next room. Standing there before the directors I was frozen in fear, only having the courage to answer the questions they had for me. Finally, the moment of truth....the audition piece.

With all honestly, I barely remember going through my audition that day. The most I remember was how I dropped my toss at the end, and that was it. I think I repressed the rest. Looking back at everything now, those first couple of weeks into guard were the greatest, it was the start of something new and a new season. I was meeting new people who I knew would be in my life for a while, and of course we were learning about our show!

"Apocalypse!"

Apocalypse.....When I hear that word only one thing comes to mind: FMBC State Finals.

Everyone always says your freshman year season is always your favorite out of any other year. Now I don't know about other people, but mine definitely was. Just in those couple of months, I had it all planned out. Color guard was going to be a huge part of my life for a good long while. Lets start at band camp, shall we?

Never in my life had I been up so early in the morning, at least during summer vacation. It was the first day and let me tell you; never did i believe anyone when they told me band camp would open up my eyes to reality. 7am to almost 9pm for two weeks; running around a field in the hot blazing sun kills! It was basically wake up in the morning, get to school, warm up/ working out, then setting drill, lunch break, sectionals, MORE drill, and then announcement before it was time to leave. After the first day or two, lets just say you have it down pat. Band Camp simply put isn’t made for the weak minded. IT'S NOT! 

Starting with a team of I want to say almost 30 girls; there were only 22 of us left after camp. Don’t get me wrong, throughout that year I wanted to quit almost a dozen times, but I never did. As the season progressed it slowed and started to take a turn and not the good kind either. It became more brutal for us. People were quitting left and right. Drill was changed almost every week. The team began fighting with one another and cliques formed. It was tough, almost one of the toughest years I’ve ever had. With that all going on and dealing with the director and staff during practices, I was slowly wearing thin. It felt like I was getting beat down, punished with the band for someone else’s mistake, yelled at for the wrong step, or moving the wrong way. One thing that stayed with me though throughout the season was what my captain that year told me during a camp;

 "Push through, practices will always suck but it's the performances that make it all worth it."

       

I never really understood what she meant, not until our first game. Excitement was in the air as we were all motivated right before halftime. If you had seen me before perform compared to after, you wouldn’t think I was the same person. Right before count off to the show my heart dropped to my stomach, they told us to pretend it was a rehearsal, to have fun with it. But how was I supposed to do that with bleachers full of people? But just like auditions a month or two prior, once the music started I was gone; lost in the music and everything around me. All I could think about was what came next and where I was going. And the next thing I know it's all over, holding there in my closing set I couldn't believe I had just done that! I felt amazing! I was full of adrenaline and ready to perform again. It was in that moment that I realized I would never look at practices the same way again. One way to prove that, was when it was time for us to perform at state. Throughout the season the entire band changed as a whole. We were more confident, braver, excited, and of course dedicated, you could see it in the way we all walked and presented ourselves. When it came down to what I thought was our last performance of the season I got off the field with the biggest smile I’ve ever had, I mean yeah I had some mess ups but the way I felt then and there couldn't be topped; at least that’s what I thought.

When retreat came around I sat anxiously waiting to hear the scores. Slowly they went through class by class and when it came down to us, all I wanted to know was...Did we make finals? As East Ridge was called as 3rd in our class, everyone erupted into cheers! We did it! We were staying for finals! That season taught me so much inside of band and out, and when we headed back to the busses all I personally could think about was "Wow I did it! I made it through the season." Performance that night tops any that I had ever had. Right beforewarm-up, our director Mr. Hart told us how this was our moment, no one else’s. He took us through our season and the hardships we faced, as well as our highlights; and when it came down to it, it was him that told us that this was it. It was our time to make the most of this performance, because that’s all that’s left and we had earned it! 

Watching everyone around me marching onto that field, was amazing. Simply put, we knew we had made it and nothing was going to tear us down. Regardless of placement that night, we were going to just make the most of "now" and have a blast with what we do. And that’s exactly what we did. The feeling at finals was priceless. You cant find it anywhere else. It's something you earn and experience with the people you're with and who work with you. Because in the end you're a part of something bigger than just a band or an extracurricular, or whatever you want to call it. At this point its more of a family, the people you grew with, and stuck with through everything good and bad. It's something that will never leave me, being at East Ridge for that year has taught me so much; and in that year alone I don't think I could have learned it anywhere else. East Ridge is a home to me and always will be.

Watch Your Words

"Watch your thoughts, for they become words.
Watch your words, for they become actions.
Watch your actions, for they become habits.
Watch your habits, for they become character.
Watch your character, for it becomes your destiny."

I have spent a lot of time avoiding facebook lately because, even though people can post what they want on their pages, I don’t want to read people’s negative posts. I have recently spent a lot of time asking complete strangers not to use inappropriate language around young children. I don’t find it cute in the slightest to have a toddler curse at me or sing all the crude lyrics to the latest rap song. I have spent a lot of time asking why people feel the need to curse excessively in public. I just want to use the symbols from a Looney Tunes cartoon to blank it out. I have asked friends and colleagues why they feel the need to publicly bash their friends, significant others, family, or activities. Its just angry language. Then I think about my amazing high school students. I think about the 2 Paradigm clinic full of great students I have taught this summer and how much I am looking forward to this weekend and all those new amazing students I will teach this Saturday.

Lately, I have thought a lot about the right words to use.

There is an old cliché phrase that goes “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” Yes, giggle. Just typing it brought back childhood images of myself wiggling my finger at some other kid in 2^nd grade who just called me a name. Many of us in our early days were taught this phrase in some form or another. Parents taught us that this was the best defense against name calling. After all, words are better used than fists, right? But the truth is, words hurt a lot more than physical pain. Vicious words and phrases, even in jest, can leave scars that cut much deeper than any blade ever could. So why is it acceptable to use such weapons and the majority of people let others get away with it? Why do we turn a blind ear to such an obvious attack or insult? Especially when the attack or insult can be so easily averted. When did we stop watching our words?

From birth, we babble. We scream and cry and make cute noises. It’s the first steps to strengthen our lungs and developing speech. As we grow into toddlers, we are taught simple words like “mommy”, “daddy”, “cookie”, “juice”, “please”, “thank you”, “puppy”, and “potty”. As we continue to grow, we learn how to put these words into complete phrases. We are taught the right and wrong things to say as we learn the meanings of each word. All of this training brings us to our daily speech. Daily speech that is as constant in our lives as breathing. As we hit middle school, our teachers, parents, and coaches are now simply role models of the do’s and don’t’s of language. Because at this point, they should be just examples or reminders. We, as teenagers, now know better.

 We have all been victims of some sort of verbal abuse or negative comments. So, why in a sport that is probably one of the most open and accepting activities for young adults of all backgrounds, do we allow this?

Now, before you all start jumping on me, and begin calling me a hypocrite - yes, I can be negative and yes, I have strong opinions. But I constantly work hard to keep my negative or strong opinions reserved for the privacy of my closest friends and fellow staff members. Its usually over a strong drink after a long day or at dinner and never in front of the membership or other teams’ staff members.

Let’s do another childhood flash back! Ever heard of the telephone game? Whatever you say will be changed and worsen as the message gets farther down the line. You start off saying “I don’t like the color blue in that flag”. Seems simple right? You don’t like the shade of blue, but people talk and 100 people later, by the time it circles back to you, you are being rumored to say “I don’t like that stupid show by that (insert staff members name) because the incompetent flag line can‘t figure it out.” Ugh! What just happened??

Make good choices.

Let me tell you a story:

Dayton Ohio - Nutter Center - SA Prelims

We, staff members, brought our students into the arena and sat in the stands prior to our show. We wanted the girls to get used to the lights and review how the sound was, where the judges were, how high they needed to perform, etc. Nerves were high.

As we watched several groups, I noticed something rather disturbing. Some of the girls were watching the other teams respectfully but most were not. Some of them were chatting, playing around, and whispering. I even saw a few of them laughing and pointing fingers.

As the new group came onto the floor and were setting up, I called for their attention simply stating “Hey! If you see something you like, clap! Remember how it feels when you are out there! Everyone loves applause.”

More girls started clapping and paying attention at this point.

I love Dayton. I try to show love for all the shows I see and while we sat there, my team heard me praise each and every performance and they could hear how loud and proud I was about it. I made sure I was clapping and supporting everyone that walked onto that floor.

One of my girls eventually turned to me and asked, “Come on, Ms. Heather! Do you REALLY love every show you see?”

My mental reaction: Um. No.

My actual response to her: “It isn’t about if I like every show or not. Everyone likes things differently. It’s about respect. They’ve spent all their time and energy in a gym like you have. They have made sacrifices and paid their debt to be here. We don’t know how many hours they have worked. Or what difficulties they have had on their journey. Or if they have had the best of seasons or the worst experiences ever. But they are here - at WGI - and they have earned our applause. When you go on later today, do you want them clapping for your hard work and efforts or whispering and pointing?”


At that point, the entire group showed more appreciation for the teams.

It was that simple. They needed an example of positive words.

Nutter Center - SA Semi-Finals

After an amazing semis performance, we couldn’t of been happier or more positive. We all were sitting in the stands after our performance watching and supporting the remaining programs before retreat. A few good friends/staff members sat down with us and we staff members all started chatting. We discussed our group and how proud we were of their 2 runs then we talked about their group and their stresses going into their semi-finals that evening.

I would turn around to watch the shows and behind me I could hear many others, including my friends, getting caught in the negative chatter. “Girl - its Dayton. Catch it!” “There is a catch tape for a reason.” “That show was boring as hell” “Opps. It’s a hotdog guard” “How did they make semi-finals?” “That girl has the solo? Bad choice.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All this negativity! What was bad was I also got sucked into it by adding in my own comments here and there between shows. I had completely forgotten where I was and who was there and the influences I was making. I just listened and chimed in. The worse part was all my girls were listening to everything we were saying too. All their energy changed. And all I could think of was …. Crap! All my positive talk might be destroyed as quickly as I tried to fix it. Once I realized this was happening, I immediately asked for my friends not to talk like that near the girls.

I think the hardest part was even from my friends, there was eye rolling, a bit of huffing and puffing at me, and a few inappropriate comments sent my way, but the conversation eventually did change. The girls seemed to stay positive for the rest of the trip.

My point to the stories - there isn’t enough staff members in the world that teach their students these moral values - these positive words. There isn’t enough captains telling their teams not to listen to the negativity around them. We ALL need reminders of what is right and wrong some times. Nobody is perfect, but we all need to be better role models to each other. We aren’t each other's parents, but we are incredibly influential in each other's lives and we are responsible for what our students do and how they are perceived.

On so many occasions, I have seen present and former students walk up to their World class idols and praise them and tell them how much they love them and how one day they hope they can spin/dance/perform like them. On too many occasions, those “idols” give this easily impressionable performers this holier than thou attitude and prance away. They don’t give words of encouragement, words of wisdom, or words of friendship. They just gave them words of self-righteousness or words of insult if they use any words at all. This isn’t the words we should be using. It’s not helping our youth grow up to be great role models. On one too many occasions, I have brought this issue up to their staff members and get the same treatment their students gave to my students - rudeness and eye rolls.

It also doesn’t helped that social media in every format allows people to see negativity from all over the world, not just in their own backyard.

So as the new season is about to start and we embark on this new journey, think twice before you speak. It is everyone’s responsibility to watch the words you use. The new team is coming in ready for a fresh start and full of positive and uplifting energy. Let’s all keep in mind that everyone is working hard. Everyone is in the heat and sweating and sacrificing and giving and pushing!

Remember: Watch your words!

Go Ahead and Audition...It's Your Soul Calling

It's July. It's a pivotal month for the pageantry activity. Drum Corps is in full swing. Marching band is in its beginning stages and winterguards are setting their budget and signing contracts for rehearsal space. Shows are being performed. Shows are being planned. It's a time of year where many performers are making decisions as to whether they will audition in September for a winterguard or November for a drum corps. It's a tough decision on many levels, because not only is a performer nervous about the outcome, they are also entering into a potential contract that involves time and money. The contract they will potentially sign is a contract that will be paid for in sweat and tears. This is a given. This is a fact. 

Why would anyone in their right minds put themselves through any type of audition? They are fraught with uncertainty, intense competition, and possible embarrassment. Any good audition will require large group work, small group work, and individual show and tell. Strangers called choreographers and technicians will be eyeing you. Fellow performers will be sizing you up. Are you better? Are they better? Do you deserve to be in the same room as them? What is their background? OH NO!! They were a silver medalist at nationals last year!! 

The goal of an audition has many purposes and it's a two way street. The organization, dance company, theater troupe, drum corps, or color guard you are auditioning for is looking to see who is not just the most talented, but who best fits the image of the organization. Who speaks their language? Who fits their mold?

I have had my share of auditions in my lifetime and they are nothing short of hellish. I'm not talking about your regular every day hell, either. Auditioning for a performance troupe is the type of hell that makes you long for a tarantula to crawl on your face and lay eggs in your ears. Drum corps, winter guard, guard captain, drum major, music ensembles, theme park, dance company. I've auditioned for all of them. I've basically screwed most of them up and made a damn fool of myself in the process. In one audition for Opryland (a very popular theme park in Tennessee back in my day), the director asked if anyone had any acrobatic experience. I jumped from the seat I was sitting in and yelled, "Me! I do!" I did, too. He asked for me to show my skills. I set it up. I took a deep breath and started may tumbling pass. Round off, back handspring, double full twist. It would be great. Except...I misjudged the distance and double full twisted off the stage and into the pit. Between that and having to sing an excerpt from a Dolly Pardon song (which was more tragic than the double twist), I didn't get a call back...surprise, surprise. No tarantula in the world could have made me feel better after that audition. I simply just prayed for death. 

When I auditioned for the Star of Indiana, I was a bit older and a bit wiser. I had honed my dance and spinning skills. I really wanted to make it. This wasn't just a fantasy. This was a dream. I wanted to march a top 12 drum corps so bad, that I would have done almost anything to march. There were something like 80 girls for about 30 spots. Dance, equipment, choreography, technique, and interviews filled the weekend. I wanted this so bad I could taste it. I believed in my heart I deserved to be there. I was ready for this. I could handle the pressure. I remember having to do each piece of choreography by myself in front of various staff members. I hated it, because although I could do the routines, I could not always remember them. Remembering choreography was always my downfall. I would later learn that it was because I had Attention Deficit Disorder. I couldn't focus. I remember doing the jazz piece for the staff. I knew the routine like the back of my hand. When my name was called and the music started, my mind shut down. I couldn't remember it. I couldn't remember anything. NOTHING! Not the opening pose, not the ending pose...NOTHING! I held back the tears as they gave me another chance. 

I blew it. It was awful and that was just day one. The weekend went on and I spent my time beating myself up and damning myself to ultimate failure. The more I thought about the failure that I was, the more I screwed up. It was an awful audition. I left the camp in Indiana and drove the 6 hour drive home to wait the ever consummate rejection letter. My entire life hinged on this audition, because it was all I had. I couldn't afford to march any other drum corps. Star was it and if I didn't make it, then I wasn't marching. I don't know why it happened and I don't really care, but all I know is that I received a letter in the mail inviting me for the December call backs. You just never know what fate will bring and everything inside me wanted to give up that November day. If I had given up and listened to my head over my heart, I wouldn't have that amazing corps jacket that today is placed neatly in the box for my child to one day pass down to his children and it wouldn't have a World Champion patch sewn to it.

My favorite and most horrific audition though, was for the 1991 winterguard season of the Pride of Cincinnati. Finally. Finally. Finally. It was my turn to perform with a world class guard. I had this wrapped up. By this time I had added a year of drum corps to my resume'. I knew the director, as he at one point consulted with my high school team. I had this. It wasn't a matter of making the guard, but a matter of making the sabre line. I drove to Cincinnati from Knoxville very early one September Sunday. It's important at this point to set the stage. Remember now, in 1991 there were still age-outs and this was my age out year. There were no GPS devices or smart phones. (This is very important to the story).

Auditions started at 9 a.m.sharp! I left around 4 in the morning, which was plenty of time to get there. I was very excited and very confident. I honestly believed I had this one. The universe I would learn, had other plans for me and a very twisted sense of humor as well. My first error of many was that I was directionally challenged  There was no GPS and this girl couldn't read a map. So...I had to trust the directions that were given to me over the phone; except for one tiny problem. In the process of transcribing the directions, my A.D.D. kicked in and I inverted the numbers of the exit to the rehearsal site from something like "28" to "82." Let's just say that as I drove past Dayton and saw signs for Columbus, I started to think that somehow I might be wrong, since the guard had "Cincinnati" in its name. The next problem was that I was running out of gas. Mom and Dad had given me a Chevron credit card. That was great...in Tennessee. Funny how Chevron wasn't really popular in Ohio at the time. As I drove on fumes, trying to figure out where in the hell to go, I made a stupid choice. I randomly asked a stranger for directions and begged him for gas money. He gave me gas money, for a nice lift back to Cincinnati.  No I wasn't raped and my body wasn't thrown into the Ohio river...it was stupid none the less and really freaky. 

I made it to auditions...two hours late and now completely rattled. I got there just in time for weapon technique, which I totally rocked at. Sometime around lunch we were asked to show a few special skills. In the process of the "special skill" portion of the audition, I hit my head with a rifle. Blood poured out of my head and on to the floor. Holy Mother of God! All I could think was, "What have I done to piss off the winterguard gods today! What?!?!!!" Hospital bound and on my way out of the gym, I clung to the door as the staff drug my blood soaked self out yelling, "PLEASE DON'T CUT ME! I SWEAR I'M NOT SOME SPAZ BASKET CASE! PLEASE OH PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! " (This might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it's how I like to remember it)

Having missed most of the day and barely making it back from the emergency room in time for the final announcements, I dragged my embarrassed, bandaged head, defeated soul back to the floor. I blew it. It was over. I had nothing left to give. My age out year and I would never walk down that tunnel of the Dayton arena. When I was interviewed I was asked how I thought my day was going. My response was a simple laugh, with a simple answer, "Are you kidding? It was awful!" Then I asked if I could borrow 20 dollars to get home. 

Surprisingly, I made the guard and I was told by Ping that he liked my never quit attitude. I still think I owe him $20. 

Here's the thing. If it's in your soul you have to audition. Don't worry about your talent level. Don't worry about your failings. Don't worry about the outcome. Some of the most important moments of my life came from auditions and the lessons I learned because of them. Because of learning to audition, I learned how to interview for jobs and outsell the other candidates with barely a thought. I learned how to assert myself at professional conclaves and parties I didn't want to be at. Auditioning in the performing arts gives you strength to know that you can handle just about anything. The fear you overcome is more than most people have to overcome in a lifetime. Chances are, you will at some point question your ability. You will believe you aren't as pretty or thin as the other performers. You will see someone better than you. You will want to leave. You will want to give up. It's important to know though, that one mistake and one weakness doesn't damn you. Any organization worth being a part of will be looking at you in a 360 degree view and they don't expect perfection.

If there is any question in your mind as to whether you should audition for a guard or drum corps next season, then that is the one sign that should tell you that your soul speaking to you and telling you to go for it. You have to audition, because if you don't you will always wonder what the outcome could have been. What's interesting and what you must remember, is that you as the performer really don't know what the organization you are auditioning for needs. You might just have that one thing they are looking for that no one else has. You might have the look or the spark or that one skill. Maybe, just maybe, all you have going for you is a positive attitude and never give up personality. I'll tell you that from a person who has run more auditions than she can count, I'll take the positive, humble attitude over the arrogant, know it all on most any day. I'll teach you the rest. So give it a shot. Go for it. Audition. Screw it up. Fail. Fall on your face. Hit your head with a rifle. Forget the routine. It's all o.k., because if you want it bad enough, the universe will find a way to give it to you. I promise. So go ahead. Your soul is calling.

A Poem From The Hopi Indian Nation To Help Us Reflect On The Journey

When you were born into this world the universe gave you a gift. It was the gift of colorguard. If only for one year or for one season, this gift has changed who you are. It gave you friends you will never forget and moments that will be stalled in time for the rest of your life. Your youth is forever changed. Whether it was  just one year or your 30th year in the activity, it got inside you and you will never be the same again. It's amazing that this activity was found by accident for many of us. We responded to a flyer hanging on the wall of the school or a friend talked us into it, because we had nothing else to do. I believe however, that the activity finds us; we don't find it. It's the hand of fate. It's soulful and it's as real as life can ever be.

For many people the season is over, but there's a handful that is headed to Dayton. It's time. You are about to perform in the show of your life. It's the world championships and you will never forget it, regardless of the outcome. Before you step on the floor take a moment to reflect on this wonderful journey you have been on. Listen to the souls of those that came before you and take as step forward for those that will come after you. Reflect on the fact that very few people in the world will ever participate in anything called, "The World Championships." Live in the moment and thank the universe for your gift of performance, of art, of friendship, and mostly of pageantry. This is your time and it will never come again.

The following poem come from the Hopi Nation. The word "Hopi" means "peaceful people." They believe that we are one with all beings we share this earth with and believe in the connection and synergy of community. They believe in the connection we have with our past and that there is no future without learning how to truly live in the present. This poem is for you. Read it and reflect on its meaning. Let it become a part of you and good luck in Dayton.

You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.
And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.

This could be a good time!

There is a river flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
They will try to hold on to the shore.
They will feel they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination.

The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of
the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate.
At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally.
Least of all, ourselves.
For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.

-The Elders, Oraibi, Arizona Hopi Nation

Have Confidence...You Made It!

Have Confidence!

Music makes the world go round. People have songs that make them happy or sad. There are songs that bring comfort, songs that create or bring back memories, songs that anger, excite, motivate passion, or empathy. There are songs that cause every emotion that a human being is capable of. I love music.

Several years ago, like so many before me, I fell in love with the soundtrack to William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet staring Leo DiCaprio and Claire Danes. I had this soundtrack playing on repeat for weeks; it was such a great mix up of songs that just meant alot to me at the time. I rediscovered the cd when I was teaching at Belleview High School based out of Belleview/Ocala, Florida. It was my first teaching gig and I wanted to give the students something to take with them when the season was over. So, I rewrote the words to the “Sunscreen Song” by Baz Luhrmann. (It’s track 4, btw!)

For those of you too young to know this song, please follow this link:

Wear Sunscreen

(Then come back and read the rest) 





I wrote this and printed out copies for each of them to keep at the time. If they still have it now or not, I certainly don’t know, but from then on every group after, if I remembered or if it applied, I gave them the yearly dedicated, slightly updated version to keep and read to inspire their life now matter where the post-season took them.

As I now have an opportunity to share this with more than just my current students, I wish all students and/or staff members share this with their teammates/teams.

We all at Paradigm wish you all great endings to your season filled with fantastic memories, amazing friendships, life long positive influences, and above all - brilliant confidence in yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the musical melody of “The Sunscreen Song” -

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winter Guard Members Around the World -

Have Confidence...

If I could offer you only one tip for the season, confidence would be it.

The long-term benefits of confidence has been proved by other performers, business people, and parents,
whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and strength of your body.

Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and strength of your body until you can‘t move like you use to anymore.

But trust me, in 10 years, you’ll look back at guard shows of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how fast you could run,
how strong you were and how fabulous you really looked.

You are not as lost as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the judges.

Or do worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to toss a flag with your arms tied behind your back.

The real troubles in your season are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind.
It's the kind that blindside you at rotation time on some idle Saturday morning.

Do one toss every day that scares you.

Breath.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s equipment.

Don’t put up with people who is reckless with yours.

Smile.

Don’t waste your time on frustration and anger, rather focus that energy on getting better.

Sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind.

The show is long and, before the end, find someone and get back in.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults.

If you succeed in doing this, you are two steps ahead of many others around you.

Keep your old guard tapes. Throw away ...nothing related to guard.
You’ll want it to show your kids one day.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you drop in a show; you aren‘t the only one who has ever done it.
Just get back in as fast as you can.

Get plenty of sleep before shows.

Remember these times. You’ll miss them when they’re gone.

I’d say do it for your directors, but I won’t.

I’d say do it for your staff members, but I won’t.

I’d say do it for your captains, but I won’t.

I’d say do it for yourselves.

Do it for all the hours you spent in rehearsal.
Do it for all the times you said. “I’m sorry- I have practice.”
You chose this path willingly because you personally wanted this and it is all for you.

Whatever you do, don’t expect anyone to do the hard work for you.

Guard is like life. It is ROUGH. You will get bumps and bruises and get knocked down,
but you, as the strong and courageous, will get back up and do it again.

Don’t live with half chances. Make every moment count.

Catch your equipment! Catch it any way you can.

 Don’t be afraid of it; you are in control. It’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever play with.

Dance.

Especially where others can see you; maybe they will join in.

Clap with everyone else, even if you don’t understand why.

Give your directors and staff members a hug; thank them for the hours they spend on you.



Get to know your instructors. You will be amazed at what you can learn from them.

Be friends with your teammates. They’re your best link to this season and
the people most likely to stick it out and come back with you next season.

Understand that teammates come and go, but with precious memories you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in your show and drill,
because the farther down the season you get,
the more consistent you need to be so your instructors and directors can make it even better.

Accept certain inalienable truths:

The judges are watching.

You will get nervous.

You may drop.

But it is how you recover and the smile on your face that really counts.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, get it done and leave it alone.

Put on show makeup, yes all of it, thank you.

Listen to the advice you receive and pass it on when needed.

Advice is a form of nostalgia. Your instructors and directors have been there many more times than you have and all they want is you to do brilliantly. You may not always agree with them but they do this for you and they want you to do your best.

Always do your best.

When it is time to take the floor and you look up at the audience, heed all this advice…

But if nothing else, trust me on the Confidence.