Colorguard Reflection

I was a quiet kid- never gave my opinion, never raised my hand in class, never really had a voice. The fear of disapproval sewed my mouth shut, and keeping to myself served to make me feel trapped in judgement that had not even been made. When I found colorguard, I found my family, I found myself, and I found my voice.

Junior high years are learning years; you learn about yourself, you learn about your peers, and you learn how to fit in like everyone else. These first years “on my own” so to speak, was when social anxiety began to creep into my life. I never wanted to leave the comfort and safety of my house, I went from loving to learn at school to dreading walking down the halls alone with my head down, and I decided to not talk in any
The way I would describe it would fluctuate and reform throughout the six years I would be in the program. At first, I wasn’t sure what the purpose of swinging flags and running around a tarp was. Slowly, I began to realize how it fit together, how the movement flowed, how the team connected with each other, how our choreography reflected emotion, and how I could communicate and connect with an audience. My understanding soon became complete, as I realized that colorguard is the utilization of equipment (flags, rifles, and sabres) and dance to portray through emotional attachment and performance the deeper meaning of music. This outlet for expression was the catalyst I needed to open up to
Sure, we were being judged based on equipment and dance technique at competitions, but any judge could feel the sincerity of a guard that performed to their fullest ability. On the mat, my only goal was to connect and share exactly how I felt with the audience. My only goal was to give them a performance they would remember. And I wasn’t alone. My whole team was behind me, performing their hardest along side me, whispering things as we passed like “You got this,” “This is our best one yet,” and “Keep going.” All of my most treasured memories were made on that mat with the same group of girls, whether it was in a stunning performance or a grueling rehearsal. We knew everything about each other, how to make each other laugh, what each of our strengths were, how to tell what sort of mood we were in before we said a word, how to cheer each other up. I knew that the girls behind me weren’t just my team, but my family, my fallback, my network that would support me no matter what our score was at the end of the day.

In those moments, whether it be during a performance, singing on the bus on the way to a competition, or holding hands while we waited for our score, I found where I belonged. In those moments, I learned to open up to opportunities, no matter how small they may seem. In those moments, I learned to love and appreciate the diversity in those around me. In those moments, I wasn’t afraid to be who