For 15 years, I was a coach for my local high school Color Guard and Winterguard team.  One January, while coaching my second winter competitive season, my husband walked out on my sons and me 15 days after my youngest son had a major surgery.  To this day, I can’t tell you why I didn’t just quit coaching with all the turmoil that was happening in my family, but it ended up being one of the best decisions I have ever made.  

I’ve always had a hard time explaining what Color Guard and Winterguard are to someone who has never seen it performed.  It sounds really strange.  Dancing while spinning flags, wood rifles, and metal sabers to music expressing the storyline or theme of the show.  It’s a combination of dance, theater, and rhythmic gymnastics.   

If you have seen a performance group spinning the flags with the marching band on the football field and in parades, you have a small glimpse into the art. In winter, Color Guard heads indoors onto the basketball court for the competition season called “Winterguard”.  I enjoyed the fall season with the band, but what I really lived for was Winterguard season.  Indoors, we didn’t have to worry about the elements.  Ever tried spinning and tossing a flag in the pouring rain and high winds?  Now do that while smiling and making it look easy. Indoors, we didn’t have any limitations of weather, only the size of the court.  

When my whole world was falling apart, I was able to lose myself in the creation of something both uniquely beautiful and deeply strange, dancing with spinning flags, wood rifles, and metal sabers. Through the ongoing chaos in my life, I was able to channel all the turmoil to create something unique and uplifting. 

My shows were known for their crazy themes – dancing flamingos to yodeling music, a horse race to the William Tell Overture, crash test dummies escaping their fate, bronze statues coming to life, zoo animals escaping to trap their zookeeper.  This is what I did as a Color Guard coach, and it was the outlet I had no idea I needed.  It turns out that my need to escape the chaos and to have a positive, supportive team environment was also what the students needed.

There was something so right when I walked into the rehearsal space to start a practice. It didn’t matter if I had had a terrible day.  It didn’t matter if I didn’t want to run a rehearsal that day.  The moment I walked into the gym, the energy of the kids I coached would roll over me and I was glad to be there.  Many conversations would start at once and swirl around me.  “Alisa! What are we doing today?” “Did you get the costumes in yet?” “Oh my god, my teacher said the rudest thing.” While I was so overwhelmed and often scared in every other area of my life, I was happy in that space.  It turns out that was also true for many of the team’s members.

I have a blog on “The Jewels of the Three Rules” that talks about how our family all followed the same rules:

• No one gets to physically hurt another person
• Respect another person’s property
• Treat each other how we want to be treated ourselves

I put the same rules in place for our team family, and, for the most part, it helped keep a peaceful, respectful environment just like it was for my family.

Every year for the Winter season, I would have about three weeks of basics practices for all returning members as well as new members, so everyone could get a feel for the team and the activity before they committed to joining that competitive season. One year, a new girl, Jessie, joined the beginning basic training.  Based on her overall demeanor, I got the impression that she was not really interested in Guard.  She was rather subdued.  I was surprised when she kept showing up to each basics practice.  When I asked her to join the team officially, I was happily surprised when she said yes.  After that, Jessie became a force to be reckoned with.  She topped out at a whopping 4 feet 11 inches tall, but never once complained that the six-foot flag pole was too much to manage.  She would just figure out a way to make it work for her height.  During practice, every time I asked the team to reset to run a section of the choreography or the whole show again, she would yell, “GOT IT!!” Every. Single. Time. Oh, I loved that!

At Championships, people can buy a “Shout Out” that an announcer reads out to the audience.  Usually, it’s a parent or friend who is saying something encouraging to a performer.  Jessie had bought a shoutout for her own personal message.  For some reason, that got missed by the announcer, and so after the awards, as we were all milling around, taking pictures and saying goodbye for the season, she asked to get on the microphone to everyone.  There were about 200 people in the gym at that point.  On the mike, she said that before she joined Winterguard, she was thinking about “not being here,” as in she was thinking of taking her life.  She said that Winterguard gave her a happy place to be and a team to be a part of.  She said how grateful she was. So many years later, I’m crying as I write this. It was honestly one of the most powerful moments I have ever seen in my life. I turned to her mom as she was saying this and asked, “Did you know?”  She nodded through her own tears.  Winterguard saved Jessie. Just as it was saving me.  

It made me aware of how important it was to support each student through their own journey, whatever that was.  It became primary for me to create a team family where everyone could feel supported to grow and stretch, or even just be in a supportive place. This is the power of belonging, having a shared purpose, and creating a positive, safe place for everyone.  

Winning is great in any team sport, no matter what sport it is.  I have been a coach over some really amazing seasons where we were the top team in the Pacific Northwest.  That feels great! I have also coached through many years where we were NOT the top team, far from it.  It didn’t matter to me at the end of the day.  We were winning when we were able to create a shared environment where everyone mattered, and tried their hardest, no matter what that looked like, and together we supported each other and created something unique.

I just had lunch a couple of days ago with one of my Color Guard students who became a friend and co-coach in the years after she graduated high school.  She had a challenging childhood, but Color Guard was her sanctuary.  She said “I don’t know what I would have done without Color Guard in high school”.  That is such an honor to have shared that time with her then and to continue to share that now.  

The thing is, any team can be that sanctuary for kids.  If the team is a place where they feel welcome and supported for exactly who they are, it has the opportunity to smooth over so many difficulties they face growing up.  It can be exactly the same experience for the coach as well.  Color Guard is a unique sport, but at the end of the day, it is still just a team.  We, as coaches, have the opportunity to create a safe place for our kids.  We can still push our students to be the best athletes they can be, but also support them as people.  Both can exist in the same place.