I was a competitive baton twirler from the age of 4-15 years
old. I competed in hundreds of competitions including the annual state,
regional, and national championship. Between my sister and I, we had over 500
hundred trophies that topped every dresser, shelf and open space in our house.
Some were second place trophies from small competitions, some were first place
trophies representing and important title and job well done. Over the years,
they have pretty much all blended together… I don’t really know which ones
represented a great win and the best performance. Of all the trophies I have
they all remain in at my parent’s house (many now boxed out in the garage) two
I have brought to my home. These two trophies I remember well and now
carry the most importance.
One of these trophies I received when I was 13. At the
regional competition each year, there was a Miss Congeniality award. All the
baton twirlers voted for one fellow twirler whom they respected and admired not
necessarily for their twirling talents, but for their personality and
friendship. I was surprised but honored when I was announced the winner of that
trophy.
When I was 15, I sprained my neck practicing for the
national competition. Like many serious competitors, I tried to compete in the
nationals even though it was not healed. I ended up losing feeling in my arms
and legs during my first competitive event and left the weeklong competition on
a stretcher. Healing from that took a year, but when I was 16 I planned to
twirl again. Before I did, I was in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver,
leaving me with a fractured back , broken leg, and fractured ankle. This
recovery was much harder and longer.
I was lucky to be able to go off to college and work towards
new goals, but I hated how my baton life ended. So, on winter break of my
freshman year back at my parent’s house. I picked up my baton when no one else
was home. My ankle was still weak and when I tried to spin around just once I
fell hard to the ground. I repeated this many times, practicing only when
no one was around as I knew they would worry and try to stop me. But once I
practiced to where I could do at least some of my more basic tricks, I called
my mom outside to watch and asked if I could do just one more competition. Like old times, my mother, sister and I
packed the car and this time drove to Las Vegas for a competition. For whatever
reason, there weren’t many entries in my category, there was just me and
another girl. The other girl was very good and I did not care if she beat me. I
just wanted to make it through my routine. Dressed in my old costume and with
my ankle wrapped up, I twirled two batons in front of the judges. I made it
through and I was very proud of myself. Now I could retire the batons with a
sense of pride. I did get a second place trophy that day. Normally taking home
a second place trophy if there were only two competitors in the event was like a
slap in the face, but this time it was a treasure.
As with a competitor in any sport, winning was important.
There are pictures on a winner’s podium of great smiles standing on the top #1
and some of fake smiles holding back tears when standing on #2, #3, or even on
the floor next to the podium when below the top 5. But all these competitions,
along with the coaching of my teacher and mom, and the companionship of my
fellow twirlers are what taught me the most important lessons in life. They built in me a positive character,
a sense of respect, good sportsmanship, personal motivation, and the desire to
strive for goals and not give up. When I look at my two trophies, that is what
they represent.
