Back in the Uniform + Back in Kelli’s office

Being fitted for the DCC Uniform is like trying on your wedding dress in front of your fiancé. There is no one you want to impress more than your love, and you can only think of what will run through his mind when he sees you. You have no idea how the starless shorts and blouse will look on you when you walk out in front of Kelli, barefooted and completely vulnerable. No one’s opinion matters at that moment except Kelli’s. The first time I tried wearing the uniform, it was euphoric. It is incredible to stand there in that stunned moment when you see yourself in one of the most treasured icons of TEXAS, the NFL, and the US to thousands of Cowboys fans worldwide and a greatly anticipated sight to hundreds of troops abroad. The second time, however, was less fairytale and more like seeing your __(fill in the blank with childhood dream)___ hanging off the edge of a cliff, knowing you could lose it with one false move (no pun intended). 

The best part of uniform fittings this time was talking to Kelli face to face, the first time since the Final auditions. At the end of every practice, I always expected Kelli to emerge from her office and call me in; I was strangely beginning to feel left out. I was pleasantly surprised our conversation revolved around my career and even more taken aback when she ensured all the crewmen and passer-byers knew I would be starting as a geography professor in the fall.

A week after uniform fittings, we had another “performance night.” Suppose you wonder why I am hardly shown with my group or dancing. In that case, it is because the CMT setup (a couple of cameras, a couple of crewmen, etc) was always set directly in front of me to get the majority of the studio in the shot. It was unsettling to have the cameras only a couple of feet directly in front of me, but the most unfortunate result was never having the advantage of seeing myself in the mirror. 

There were plenty of gut-wrenching moments when the routine would call for me to look to my right, and I would see I was off. This night was one of those. Finally, being called into the office was honestly relieving.  I was always aware that I would be the weakest dancer in the room, but not having Kelli and Judy call me into the office and, for the majority of the time, them not commenting on me after we performed was unnerving. This was starkly different from 2006, when I was called into the office after every “performance night” and always had a hefty load of comments made after the music stopped.

By week three this year, I was feeling overlooked. My first time in Kelli’s office this season was encouraging on the one hand, but it also weighed heavy on my heart. I was grateful to have Kelli and Judy stand behind me and assure me they wanted me on the team, but knowing they were supporting me was oddly unnerving. In other words, to have the people holding your dream in their hand and saying, “We want to give this to you if you will just bring your A Game” is more overwhelming than going for your dream out of the blue and with courage (not knowing what you are indeed up against) like my first attempt at joining the ranks of the DCC. Making it to training camp, experiencing a glimpse of the memories and friendships you could make as a DCC, then being sent home is heartbreaking. Trying again, knowing it could be taken away, is even more stressful on your emotions. I have the utmost respect for women who have done this and succeeded, you truly are role models (xoxo Candice, Natalie, & Ray).

Pin It