On Saturday night I stood on Palmer
Stage, looking out at the crowd, a wave of PV signs raised all around me.
Ashley Lowe, our SGA President, came on stage and started talking. She spoke of
tradition and leaders, the unique idea of College Night itself. And it was all
so strange, a feeling that’s hard to put into words. I was surrounded by a
group or people, all dressed in shades or purple and white. We had a put on a
whole production, a musical that a mere month ago had simply been words and
notes on paper. I knew some of the people in the crowd, I had gotten close to
them during the process, and others I hadn’t even spoken one word to. But we were
all there, we were all Purples.
I kept looking back at Dyllon.
Dyllon was the only person on the stage I have known for years. I kept having
flashes of us when we were younger, particularly being in marching band and
drama together. There was this one performance in band my sophomore year (his
freshman) where we pause in the middle of a song, the band going up in a
leveled crescendo and a sudden pause and them bam, we were playing again, loud
and proud. During this one performance the crowd went crazy at the sharpness of
the pause, at all the flag girls catching their toss in unison, and our
majorette lighting up flaming batons. When the crowd went crazy I was overcome
with a surge of, I don’t know, happiness…nervousness. I can’t tell you what it
was only that I didn’t want to be anywhere else but there in that moment. There
were other times too, like during my freshman year performing Suessical, we all
came to the edge of the stage and sang, and audience stood up, beaming at us—a
standing ovation. Another time was my senior year of high school, during
Midsummer Night’s Dream. I was playing Tatiana and I was giving it all I had,
and the audience was laughing at every funny line I delivered. How could I not
be happy?
That feeling is few and far
in between in my life. Sometimes I wish I could package a moment up as it
happening, neatly and in a box. And then in the moments I’m sad I can open the
box again and feel a little bit of the magic. But Saturday Night, I looked back
out front, the glow of the stage lights (one of my favorite things about
theatre) shining down all the PV’s, and I knew I had it again. The feeling, the
crazy out of this world happiness, where your heart is beating like mad and
your body doesn’t feel really inside of itself. You are everywhere, you are so
much more. And Ashley was still talking, talking about our attitude at
Montevallo, and my heart was racing. I felt like I was only just my heart,
beating rapidly and madly. And then she said it, “A Triple Shot at Victory”—the
Golds had won. I think, for a moment, I was confused; I was looking at the
Palmer staff running away and newspapers being thrown around. But then I knew,
but then I knew, I really knew.
Their response was instantaneous,
and so was ours. Some people put their PV’s down, I kept mine up. And people
were crying, and then I realized my eyes were burning too. And I thought, not
now Keshia, do not cry here. I was lucky enough to listen to myself. But then
there was talking, there was the older Purple (whose name I do not know but who
I have admired since I’ve seen her in Heidi Chronicles) who was yelling at us.
I only caught a few words, but they were something along the lines like “We are
enough, we put on great show! It wasn’t racist!” Behind me Dyllon shouted a
Purple proposal to Sam and someone started to sing the Victory Song, in an
attitude all too solemn for my liking. People hugged and I looked over to the
Gold crowd in hopes of seeing my friend Ben, who designed the set for Gold, and
who I wanted to congratulate, but I was kind of horrified. A few of the Golds
were tearing up the newspapers, waving the shredded bits above their heads and
all I could think was that “You know it’s praising you, right? Why are you
tearing it up?”
And then we got in the circle,
pushing the Golds to the side just for a moment. I looked around, there were more
people crying then I expected, and more people smiling too. A girl beside me
(who I believe was Lydia Clements) was crying and smiling, and kept saying “I
love all of you!” And then Riley and Mia spoke and it was only in their talking
that I realized, I wasn’t really sad at all, I don’t even think my heart
dropped one bit when they announced the Gold’s win. I was still happy. I
couldn’t help but wanting to mimic Lydia (I think) beside me, with telling
everyone I loved them. I wanted to say thank you, thank you for giving me this.
Thank you making me feel this way Purple Side, and thank you for letting me
have a family. And then we were singing, and it was brilliant, and I wanted to
jump around yelling about the Purple Victory. Because I had to know, had to
know that was where my happiness came from, because it’s always a Purple
Victory.
I don’t
know who is going to read this, but if you’re there and you’re a Purple, thank
you, really. You made my first College Night something I will never forget.
Fin.
-Keshia
Currently Reading Mansfield
Park by Jane Austen.
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