Twisted Elegance

Twisted elegance. I like that. That’s how Janet’s album, Velvet Rope begins and with it I’m thrown back 7 years to a time of exhaustive rehearsal, bruises, and electrical tape. Each morning we started our 12 hour day by stretching out tired muscles to the Velvet Rope album for an hour. Colorguard. It was my whole world. Straight up- My. Whole. World.

Here I am in your face

I ate, slept, dreamed even, of whirling flags, full leg extensions, sabers reflecting and winking in the bright lights, the slap of rifle straps and was unable to hear a song without mentally choreographing the show that could be constructed from each note. There was nothing more important to me and it became the reason I don’t remember a lick of anything learned in school. It was the first thing that not only was I really good at; I loved it, craved it, and was fulfilled in every way possible by it. If I could have I would have spent my entire life performing in a company and choreographing for various high schools but that’s not what the fates had in store for me I guess.

Telling truths and not your old lies

In truth, I gave it up. The injuries a dancer sustains, the lack of sleep, the emotional roller coaster, the paltry pay given to instructors, it all takes its toll and the life of a guard member isn’t a long one for many. Mine was longer than most. Typically you only do it while in high school and then retire. I was in for all 4 years of high school, was made captain my junior and senior year and after graduating went on to teach at several high schools before auditioning with my best friend, Becca, for an independent company, Axxis Winterguard run by director Joseph Garcia. Axxis was poor. We didn’t have a rehearsal space often and were frequently forced to practice in parking lots (a police station’s a few times). When we traveled to championships we didn’t have lodging and were forced to stay at a closed down insane asylum. Yes, I just said insane asylum and we slept on a metal catwalk that was a floor above the basketball court below. So creepy. That’s a whole novel of a story so I won’t dwell there.

Seems to me that you care

What we lacked in monetary value we made up for in sprit, in being fabulously ghetto (and proud of it!), in being a family (dysfunctional at times, but we always had each others back), in wearing black and looking fabulous, in being pierced and tattooed, and in just being thoroughly cool. We pushed boundaries, broke rules, added diversity and brought a rawness, a sexuality to the table. We didn’t walk, we strutted, we prowled like lions; we kept our chins high and boldly met the eyes of the guards who had everything money could buy. We were divas, drag queens, and had our own language. (I fall back into it instinctively when around former Axxis members.) We were even a bit conceited, truth be told, but no one held it against us. We worked hard to be the best and deliver an amazing show every time we hit the floor so any egos were expected and added to our image.



(2 Pics: here I am designing a flag)

See ya can’t get away

We were the crowd favorite back then. I can still hear the thunderous chanting of our name as we waited outside to take the floor and the deafening screams as we entered. Oooo goose bumps. One of our choreographers, Ruben, who had been a colorguard choreographer since I was born in 1979, would keep us in check and focused but you could always see the glitter of excitement and pride in his eyes as he waited with us. There is nothing like being in front of an audience and connecting with them, seeing their eyes tear up, the smiles, as we moved together, racing (at times at a break neck speed) in perfect synchronicity, and getting that applause at the end. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. Those moments are freeze-framed in my mind gallery.

I’ll be here forever and again

Like all good things, it didn’t last. Axxis broke up and we all went our separate ways promising to keep in touch but knowing we probably wouldn’t. Some went to other guards, others, well, who knows? Becca and I went on to office work and didn’t hear from any of them for a few years. Then on a Wednesday evening Becca and I got a phone call from one of our guard sisters. Joe died, she said and everything went gray and slow. Our beloved director Joseph Garcia had died from AIDS and worst of all, he died alone without any of us knowing he was even sick. That was all it took to bring together a once powerfully talented family. Becca and I tracked down another Axxis member and on and on it went until we’d all heard the tragic news. Not only did Axxis show up, guard members and instructors poured in from everywhere to attend the funeral. We filled the church and soon there was laughter amongst the tears as one by one people went up to reminisce about Joe.

Whispering in your ear

The priest was understandably a bit wigged by all the gay men in attendance and the stories from Joe’s former boyfriends but remained passive. It was beautiful and awesome. When Joe’s mother got up, we all got huge knots in our throats and the air was thick with unspeakable sorrow. She had been a mom to all of us as well and seeing her up there so small and sad struck me harder than hearing about him dying had. Instead of breaking down (like I would have) she instead told us how much colorguard had meant to Joe, how we were all his family, and how much he loved all of us (ok, sob). Then she said she’d had a dream the night before and that Joe had come to her. He told her not to be sad to tell us not to be sad, he was happy teaching beautiful angel men how to spin and was working on a colorguard show to Stairway To Heaven (Axxis used Stairway To Heaven one year for our show) and as she told us she laughed in delight at the thought. We laughed with her, nodding, because that’s exactly what Joe would do. He'd probably hit on every single one of those angels too.

Do believe cause you know you cannot win

After the funeral we again parted ways but not before promising to do something together, to keep in touch this time. Ah promises. I wish I could say they weren’t made to be broken but in this case they were. It was a few more years before we got another phone call from our guard sister and this time, hearing her voice, we knew. Ruben had died. Our instructor, our cheerleader had died. This time not everyone made the funeral but there was still a huge turn out and our other instructors were there, heartbroken. Ruben had been a force, a pain the ass at times, but always, always loved. At Joe’s funeral, at hearing a train horn Ruben exclaimed “There’s Joe, yelling his head off as usual”, and we laughed as tears rolled down our faces, because Joe had been a complete loud mouth.

Spent most your life pretending not to be

After the funeral, this time as we parted ways, the hugs we gave were bigger, the smiles more fond and a bit sad. I think we all knew that we were saying goodbye. We didn’t promise to keep in touch and as we all left to get back to our lives we left behind a small piece of ourselves. We’d reached an ending with each other.

The one you are but who you choose to be

This is me during a solo performance when I was 18.

Axxis never won first place at championships. We weren’t a favorite of the old fashioned judges and there are probably very few who remember us but to those who do and were there - it mattered, we meant something. There will always be a place in my heart for colorguard, for Axxis, for my ghetto family, and I do believe that if there is a heaven, Joe and Ruben are up there rocking their angel colorguard. I also know that every time I hear a train horn blowing and get a small smile, there are others out in the world who get that same smile.

Lyrics from You, off of Velvet Rope by Janet