Alexandra Castillo

Most little girls dream of becoming a ballerina at some point in their childhood. I was not an exception. Although I was only 2 years old, I vividly remember my first day of dance class. Some of the other toddlers hung on to their mothers, desperately begging them not to leave, but I eagerly kissed my mom goodbye and never looked back. I immediately fell in love with dancing. I danced around the house and constantly practiced my routines. My dance recitals for my family became part of our nightly routine.

My practice and hard work was apparent to my dance instructors. I was always one of the best students in my dance class, and I expected nothing less of myself. My dedication paid off when I became the youngest person in my class to receive their toe shoes. I was ecstatic and vowed to take the responsibility of being in point class seriously. For the next seven years, dancing was my life. If I was not at school, I was at the dance studio. I had dance class three to four nights a week for two hours a night. To most adolescents, the commitment would not seem worth the time dancing took away from friends and social activities. Since dancing had always been a major part of my life, the sacrifice seemed to be worth it to me.

Quitting dancing never entered my mind until I began high school. Suddenly, other things became more important. I became more concerned with my friends and staying in the loop of the gossip mill than dancing. Initially, I felt immense guilt for even considering quitting dancing. When I expressed my internal struggle to my mother, she was shocked and appalled. The battle I was having internally turned into an outward battle with my mom. At the tender age of 15, I was convinced I had the whole world figured out. Winning the battle with my mom became my focus, and I completely lost touch with the real issue. After many screaming matches, my mom finally gave in, and I quit dancing.
Faced with the dilemma of how to fill the free time I now had, I decided to run for my high school’s Student Council. After all, a teenager would not dream of having nothing to do. Luckily, I won the election, and before I knew it, I became chairperson of the pep rally committee. My job was to plan our school’s pep rallies each week. I took this seriously, and was determined to plan the best pep rallies in school history. I brainstormed many new ideas, including moving pep rallies to the gym rather than having them in the football stadium and passing out pom-poms to students as they entered the gym for them to use during the pep rally. I also implemented wearing a spirit day t-shirt and blue jeans to school on pep rally days, which was a nice break from the boring uniforms we normally wore. I fought with our rigidly strict principal countless times in order to make these ideas a reality. After I pointed out to him it was part of the school’s improvement plan to increase school spirit, and these changes would help accomplish this goal, he reluctantly agreed to the proposed ideas. In the end, all my hard work paid off. I had in fact planned the best pep rallies in school history. A reward greater than my sense of accomplishment was realizing I had found what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.

My experience as chairperson of the pep rally committee in my high school Student Council left no doubt in my mind that I wanted to become a special event coordinator. I am now attending LSU and am pursuing my degree in mass communication with an emphasis in public relations and a minor in business. Once I graduate, I plan to work as a special events coordinator in a big city. Although I sometimes regret quitting dancing after I invested so much time and effort into it, I am thankful I did. Had I not stayed true to myself, I probably would not have had the experience that led me to find what I want to do for the rest of my life.