Rodeo Ticket Student Scholarship

As my rodeo journey began I found many lifelong friends and mentors that I was able to go riding with and learn more about the art of barrel racing. The next couple of years I would continue learning all that I could about competing at rodeos across the state of Oklahoma with my friends. Although, I always had to borrow a horse from a friend or somebody in my family as I have yet to own a horse of my own. Then the day came and my parents surprised me with my very own horse for my fifteenth birthday. Rusty was just an average sorrel quarter horse from a sale barn, but I was finally able to officially start out on my gold buckle dreams with a horse I could call mine.

My freshman year of high school I ended up having to have total back surgery due to a severe degree of scoliosis that was not getting any better. I ended up having two metal rods and eighteen screws placed into my spine. Of course I needed a year to recover and was not able to ride. During that year I decided to let some friends borrow Rusty so he was not just sitting in the pasture, and they took him to some rodeos for team roping. When the day finally came that the doctors cleared me for it being safe to ride again I was excited. I ran out to the pasture and got Rusty saddled and ready to go only to find out I was terrified. I was nervous about getting back in the saddle because “ what if ” I fell and hurt my back and had to go through that all over again. I had recovered from the physical challenge of riding but the mental challenge was just beginning.

As I was trying to gather the courage of getting back in the saddle, I discovered World Champion barrel racer Fallon Taylor and her story. Hearing her talk about a terrible horse riding accident causing her to be paralyzed and having to wear a halo. Seeing her be able to overcome not only physically being able to walk again but also seeing how she was able to get over the mental challenges. That made me realize if she was able to find her way back in the saddle after overcoming a challenge worse than mine and go on to win a world title, then I had nothing holding me back other than my own doubts and fears. I quickly changed my mindset and threw away the “what if” way of thinking and put my mind on the positive track and started to think about what all I am capable of and have the opportunity to be part of.

My passion for my horses and rodeo was reignited. I got back in that saddle and started working with my horse, Rusty, in the round pen for small periods of time on a daily basis. Mainly to refresh my own skills, movements and confidence. I knew Rusty was already ready to go but he was patient and understanding with me and was my biggest fan of getting back in the saddle. Rusty ended up liking the roping events more so we started entering the breakaway roping and we both learned together our strengths and what we needed to work on. We still have not won our event but we sure do love just getting out there and being a part of this amazing world of rodeo.

I have since added a new horse to my line up. Her name is Vegas, she is my barrel horse, who I hope will take me to Vegas one day to chase those yellow cans on the big stage. There is nothing about rodeo that I do not like. It feels to me like it is one big family, everyone cheering on each other and supporting your dreams of living your best life doing what you love. I have met so many people that I have gladly accepted advice from and use that advice every chance I get. I am always up for learning new tips and tricks to this game and I appreciate those willing to take the time to help others like me along the way.

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When I was very young, my dad said I wouldn’t have much connection to rodeo as I grew up. He didn’t want me to be a part of that life the way he was when he was younger. But, as soon as I could, I started disappearing to the barn in the backyard where my dads' old roping horse lived. I loved everything about Mickey and he was so patient with me. I would climb the gate to pet his face and if I could find a way into his pen, I would get right in there with him. My parents decided it would be better if I was supervised around him, so they helped me learn how to ride him. As much as my dad didn’t want me to ride, it melted his heart to see me on his trusty old steed and that was the end of the ‘no rodeo’ conversations.

The first time I entered the Buffalo Bill Arena on horseback, I was just four years old and entering my first Junior Rodeo. Mickey wasn’t with us anymore, but my new mount took just as much care to keep me safe. My dad lead Jake and me through the events while I cried and screamed every time we went faster than a walk. My stubborn streak took over by the end of the day and I insisted on completing the last even by myself. By the end of that summer, I was completing events by myself and we haven’t looked back since. Although I competed in Junior Rodeos all across the area, Father’s Day was always spent at the Buffalo Bill Arena in my hometown. When I wasn’t competing, I was helping my dad with the goat tying, riding in the tractor as he worked the ground, or handing out prizes in the office with my mom. It was a long day, but one I looked forward to like most kids look forward to Christmas.

Eventually, I was too old to compete in the Buffalo Bill Junior Rodeos, but I didn’t have to give up spending time at the arena. For the last twelve years, I have been honored to carry rodeo sponsor flags during each night of the grand entry at the PRCA rodeo. When I was young, I would snug my hat down with my stampede string and trot along with the ‘big girls’ and the rodeo queens that I looked up to. More recently, I would rush to the arena after work and change clothes in the horse trailer and make it to the gate just in time to trot in as one of the ‘big girls’ and mentor the next generation of flag girls.

Over the years, I have held several rodeo queen titles and this was another way for me to help with events at the Buffalo Bill Arena. During the local college rodeo and the state association finals, I often had the opportunity to help work at the rodeo by clearing cattle, helping set the barrels in the arena, and running more sponsor flags. These events were always a great way to be close the sport I love and learn more about the events and how rodeos work.

Though all of these things have been memorable and fun for me, the time I spend at the Buffalo Bill Arena as a volunteer with the Partner Up Rodeo is by far the most treasured. Each year a group organizes this day-long event for students with disabilities. The students have the opportunity to partner with a young adult that has experience with horses, rodeos, or the Western way of life. Even though I have to miss a day of school each year, I have been a Partner or helper at this event for eleven years. The day includes a demonstration of rodeo events, hay rack rides, a petting zoo, and the most popular event - horseback rides. Community members raised funds to purchase a ramp that allows students with mobility issues to be able to get on and off the horses and there is nothing like the smiles you see on the faces of students as they walk the path through the arena. It breaks my heart to think that I will miss this event now that I am away at college.

I have been in rodeo arenas across this country, but the time I have spent at the Buffalo Bill Arena truly holds a special place in my heart. I have definitely been blessed to have such a great facility right in my home town and I hope that I will have more opportunities to spend time there throughout my life.

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Although my path is not currently leading me towards the life of a cowgirl, the rodeo provides me with one perfect moment where I can, for a time, forget the realities of my life and immerse myself completely within a world of horses. I may not be able to live the cowgirl life on a daily basis, but I have the rodeo, and that is sufficient. By attending the rodeo, I can live through the experiences of the cowgirls in the arena and bask in the thrill that never fails to beat within my heart whenever I am surrounded by horses. I visit the rodeo every year because it provides me with the chance to engross myself within the life for which I have always yearned.

I may long to be a cowgirl, but, throughout the years, I have come to realize that I can still experience a fulfilled and joyful life with the path I have been given. After all my years of attending the rodeo, it has taught me to be content with the existence I am blessed to live and to cherish the small moments I am allowed to enjoy at the rodeo. Each taste I sample of this whole other world stirs up afresh a renewed desire to ride a horse and be a cowgirl, but, regardless of my wishes, I am still immensely grateful for the direction in which my life is taking me. The rodeo reminds me to think fondly of my childhood memories of horse-riding lessons and horse camp so many years ago and remain thankful for what I have already been given. One night a year, I can live out my cowgirl dreams. I am indebted to the rodeo for urging me to be content in the moment and teaching me to treasure my blessings rather than greedily hunger for more.

Erupting into jubilant cheers, the crowd thunderously applauds the cowgirl and her horse as the announcer declares the talented team to be the winners for the evening. Unable to contain the excitement thrilling through my body, I bounce delightedly on my toes, shouting along with the audience in joyful triumph. As much as I desire to be that girl on that horse in that moment, I also realize that my place is in the stands, cheering her on as she lives out her dreams. I might yearn to be a cowgirl. I might wish for more horse-riding lessons. I might pray for a dashing cowboy to sweep me off my feet and carry me away to his family’s ranch. Nevertheless, I have learned to be satisfied in the direction my life is leading me. It may not take me down a muddy dirt road that runs to a quaint white farmhouse with a long veranda and a wooden porch swing, but I do know it is guiding me to a career of creative writing. I will never betray or trade away this life I have been given; it is a precious gift that I cherish greatly. As I walk the pathway that has been laid out before me, my dreams of becoming a cowgirl will perhaps fade with time as my other dreams come true. However, the best part of it all is that I will always have the rodeo, year after year. I can carry the spirit of the rodeo with me wherever I go, drawing from my experiences as inspiration for my writing. A part of me will always be a cowgirl, no matter where life takes me. And that is enough for me.

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As I sit in the stands and watch the little 4-year-olds mutton bust and the professionals compete in saddle bronc riding and bull riding, the excitement never ends. I get to laugh at the comradery between the announcers and the rodeo clowns while holding my breath, waiting to see if the bull hits the clown's barrel. There is never a dull moment. As an adult, I have begun to appreciate the rodeo even more. I now attend the dance that happens at the end of the night. Getting to line dance, two-step, and swing dance around the floor with friends as well as strangers is the best part of the evening. As the live band switches between Kenny Chesney, Toby Keith, John Denver, and many other favorites, we dance the night away, changing partners and learning new line dances.

Last year during the COVID time, all rodeos were canceled. It was the first time since I was little that we didn't have the rodeos to look forward to and our summers felt out of sync. It wasn't until December when the NFR was broadcasted, that the rodeo excitement was brought back into our homes. We were all together during that time, and each day we would sit down on the couch with our homecooked meal and tune into the cowboy channel. By the end of our first night, we all had our favorites. We cheered on the Wright brothers and Hailey Kinsel, and it brought so much joy back into our home. Rodeo is something that brings our entire family together. Within those hours, we get to laugh together, talk a bit of trash, and enjoy each other’s company, which is what I believe rodeo is all about.

My cousins and I put together a team for the calf dressing event at our local rodeo this past year. We competed against other local groups, and a team made up of our staff members. We came in second place, lost to the staff, but we had a fantastic time. Right before our event started, there was a lightning delay that lasted 45min. We were behind the bucking shoots and were able to meet a bunch of the competitors. It was the fastest 45min of my life. We were all swapping stories, listening to the grueling regimen these athletes have to endure, and laughing about all the things that this cowboy life will throw at you. Rodeo is more than just entertainment. It is a family. It is a place where you catch up with old friends and a place to met new ones. It’s a place where you learn that getting back in the saddle is not as easy as those cowboys make it look. For me, it's the most important family time I get to have, and as my grandparents get older and making it to the rodeo gets more challenging, it's the time that I get to treasure the most and will always get to look back upon fondly.

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Finally, in 2019, my best friend and I drove to Payson for a weekend to go to the rodeo I had been dreaming about since I was a child. I grew up riding horses and two-stepping, but my friend grew up swimming and listening to punk music. We attended the rodeo as an unlikely pairing, but before we knew it, we were both immersed in the action. With our snow cones melting in the sun, we screamed and cheered for the barrel racers to run faster. We gasped when the bull riders were bucked off and held our breath until the calf and team ropers’ final times were announced. The participants were able to demonstrate the practical skills they had perfected on their home ranches and the relationships they had built with their animals, which was beautiful to experience.

During the steer wrestling, my friend commented on how cute the cow was, only to scream when it was yanked to the ground by the cowboy pulling on its horns. Her initial thought, having no knowledge of what ranchers’ work consists of, was that the animals were being mistreated. I calmly explained to her that nearly every rodeo event, with the exception of bull riding, has a practical application on a ranch. Cowboys practice steer wrestling and roping because they need to be able to catch and hold a calf or cow still in order to administer medicine. Barrel racing shows the skill, coordination, and relationship a cowgirl has with her working horse. Bronc riding is how cowboys break mustangs and train horses to be ridden. Having explained the events, my friend had a new appreciation for the rodeo, its events, participants, and animals.

After the rodeo, my friend accompanied me to the rodeo dance where I taught her to two-step and line dance. The sense of comradery among the competitors and spectators at this event was magical. Everyone came together to dance and celebrate the end of the day’s competition. As much as I would have liked to experience this rodeo as a child, I think I had a greater appreciation for the talent exhibited and the work that went into the event by attending the Payson Rodeo as an adult.

I felt like I belonged at the Payson rodeo. The event seemed to connect me to my great grandparents in a way that I had not been able to before. I had a greater appreciation for their way of life and wished that I could have seen my family members doing what I saw the competitors doing that day.

I admire every competitor from the 4-year-old mutton buster to the team ropers with decades of experience. They have all worked hard to be where they are and are doing what they love to do. I think it is incredible that children and adults can both participate in rodeos. I grew up competing in gymnastics where a girl is lucky to still be able to participate in the sport after the age of eighteen. The age range of competitors in rodeos is astounding and allows participants to form relationships with all types of people with varying lifestyles and cultures.

I love rodeos because of the like-mindedness and accepting nature of the competitors and spectators. Even though everyone has their own opinions, cultures, and backgrounds, I did not meet a single rude person at the Payson rodeo. Spectators and competitors alike were kind and respectful. They love their country and their way of life; standing for the flag and bowing their heads in prayer. They work hard to provide for their families. They are people that I aspire to be.

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We pulled up to the small town of Pilesgrove, New Jersey. This was an area that I had never journeyed to before, or even knew existed. My mind began to wander as I pictured the vicious bulls that would charge the men in the ring and the gentlemen cowboys with pieces of straw hanging from their mouths and spurs on their boots. Clearly, these thoughts expressed my slight naivety about rodeos. Still, my grandmother was more excited than she had been in months as she smelled the sweetness of the funnel cakes and felt her boots sink into the dirt beneath her.

As we sat in the bleachers, the sun set behind the announcer’s booth and suddenly everything felt right within the world. For the briefest moment, I had forgotten about my grandmother’s disease. It did not matter why we were there, it only mattered that we had made it. The sunset glistened upon my grandmother’s frail cheekbones and I wallowed in the bliss of this moment for as long as my mind would allow. This lasted until the announcer welcomed us to the rodeo and dozens of horses entered the ring with glamorous women on their backs and the American flag flying high and steady behind them. I glanced over at my grandmother and saw her white teeth for the first time in a while as she joined in the chorus of the national anthem. This was where we found our happiness; it was where we were meant to be.

As we indulged in popcorn and hotdogs, we watched the competitors struggle to stay on the bulls for the coveted eight seconds. Through many failures, my grandmother cheered them on and reassured them from the stands that they were fighters; they were strong. It was in these moments that I discovered the true significance of my grandmother’s battle. My grandmother was not defined by her moments of weakness when she struggled to remember my name or the sequence of steps in tying her shoes. Rather, her true character was exemplified through the resilience she portrayed after this fragility. She was not meant to mourn this previous life when she was able to find so much delight within each new discovery that she made daily. My grandmother was the bull rider of our family. She was a fighter; she was strong.

Thus, this night which was initially intended to be a completed task on my grandmother’s bucket list turned into much more than that. It transpired into a night that will remain in my mind and heart eternally. It was a night that allowed me to translate my fear and disappointment into confidence and admiration. This rodeo became the spot where my grandmother and I spent most of our Saturday nights in the summer months. We cherished these moments together and understood that just like these bull riders, my grandmother was struggling to hold on for as long as she could while she was desperately fighting her own battle.

In the years that followed my grandmother’s passing, this rodeo became a sanctuary for me. I came here on the nights that I felt helpless and I found the inspiration to keep holding on in the arena’s lights. I visited again when I was high in spirits and needed a reminder of my grandmother and that bright white smile that she wore on those summer nights. Each time the glamorous cowgirls rode out on their horses and flew the American flag high, I heard my grandmother’s voice singing the national anthem and knew that she was sitting beside me. I knew that this was where I belonged. When I came to the rodeo, my grandmother’s memory was found in the wind that propelled through the flag and the buzzer that deemed the eight second rider the winner. She was the unyielding support and cheers within the crowds and the sunset that glistened upon my face. But more than that, she was the courage that pushed each rider to stand back up after getting knocked down. Accordingly, the rodeo gave me the everlasting certainty to proclaim that my grandmother was a fighter; she was strong.

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