Winter, Spring, Summer, and Football

Even when I have no idea what day or month it is, I somehow spring to life around August 1st. My circadian rhythms are set on a yearly schedule and for me, dawn of my year begins just before the start of school.

This summer, I was almost dreading going to Burk. It had been so long since I'd even picked up a flag...And to make matters worse, since I was working full time, I didn't have the luxury of listening to the show music during the daytime so I could have ideas already mapped out in my head. I even told David that I would be somewhat relieved if this wound up being my last season to work with Burk.

Then, it happened. I woke up one morning feeling....excited, giddy, anxious, and...nauseous? Yeah...that's right. I'm not exactly sure what day it was, but I am certain it was between July 29th and August 2nd. Just like clockwork.

Football season (or, Marching season, if you prefer) was here. And I, much to my chagrin, was reveling in the anticipation of it all.

So I went to Burk, taught those girls (who looked so much younger than they ever had before), battled my aging frame (and didn't really win), contended with the almost-constant chatter (which was still better this year than last), lived with a family who is not my own (although it's beginning to feel like they are), and......................I loved it. Because more than almost anything else in life, this -- this chaos and drama -- this is what I do. It's what I know.

Today, one of the ladies at work began asking me all kinds of questions about colorguard and how I charge and what my job description entails. Her son is in band in an itty-tiny town north of here and they don't have a colorguard person. Since she's in the band boosters and since she just happens to know someone at work (me) who does that colorguard sort of thing, she wanted to see (a.) if she could get me an "in" with their band, and (b.) whether or not I'd even be interested in helping out. How pathetic is it that I didn't want to stop talking to her about all the possibilities? I had work to do and so did she, but I was absolutely mesmerized at the thought of working with another school, this time a bit closer to home.

Keeping in mind that, all this time, I have completely sworn off sponsoring a high school ever again. Sponsoring a high school is like volunteering for a five month prison sentence. You become shackeled to the lives of those girls...and everything that is good or bad in their private lives goes with that. That isn't something I'm terribly fond of. In high school, these girls are bound to their parents/guardian-of-some-kind for better or worse. College girls are legal adults, and as such, my active involvement in their lives is allowed to be more liberal.

For instance, in a college setting:
Dad's being a douchebag? Let's work on your effective communication skills and try to work things out. Still no good at home? Then here are the steps you should take in order to take control of your life as an adult and emancipate yourself from that environment.

Or:
Yes, I got pregnant while on the pill, and yes, you can, too.

Or:
No, it's not alright for boys to push you down the stairs or pin you up against the door, even if they say they're sorry or claim they were just kidding around.

Or:
No, you are not allowed to marry the boy you are dating when you are 19. Every girl suddenly decides she wants to be married when she hits 19. That boy then is never "the one."

Then I can always follow up the conversation with something like:
Oh, and by the way, I'm having spaghetti tonight. Come on over around 6:00, there'll be plenty. I'll see you then. Yes, you can bring your roommates.



.....Those kinds of things don't really work well in the high school arena.


Instead, in high school, you have girls who's parents are getting busted for drugs, and girls who have stepfathers smacking them around, and girls whose mom "really loves this one, so please don't mess it up for me," and girls who work all summer at Mazzio's in an effort to save up for college but Stepdaddy really wants to buy a new motorcycle and doesn't have the money so he "borrows" every last penny of her savings and promises he'll pay her back real soon.

And I can't do a damn thing about any of it.



Nevertheless, my insides were fizzing with anticipation at the thought of choreographing on a regular basis -- to be writing again and to be teaching again -- even if that meant it was for a high school. A high school with no current program. A high school that has never had a colorguard. A small, rural, high school......where there are girls who want so much to be in colorguard....girls who need something wonderful to claim as their own.

As always, I'll keep you posted.





MUCH LOVE!!