“Goddamnit Dilena, March that corner! Get in step! And why the hell are you looking around?” Spit from the high ranking cadet splatters on my face. His face is reddened with anger and excitement. It’s his turn to torture the new kids. The hallway of the barracks seems endless and the disorientation unsettles me. I can’t look around at the other new cadets around me, but I can sense their fear is as strong as my own. I am directed into a dark room with military officials standing at the back with swords at their side. The plebes shuffle in and form a column. “Welcome to the Culver Military Academy Black Horse Troop, if you ever want to be a part of this unit, you will earn it.” I shudder as it occurs to me that this will be my life for the next three years. At that moment, I wonder how I got this far. Why did I leave my amazing life in sunny California for a military school in the middle of cornfield Indiana?
Your first reaction may be, “I wonder what he did?”-as is the reaction of most people. In fact, not only did I choose to attend Culver Military Academy, I had to work hard to convince my parents to allow me to go. It would have been hard to imagine what sophomore year would be like but I now strongly believe that it was one of the best choices I have ever made. How could I know that the lack of sleep, impossible academic workload, constant slave labor, and almost inhumane treatment would actually teach me something?
To people who can’t understand exactly what military school is like, I would describe the experience as the most rewarding accomplishment I have ever done. The very fact that I passed my “plebe” or new cadet year still astonishes me today. From the constant discouraging inspection failures, to the painful required memorization of seemingly pointless paragraphs on top of my academic load, time passed like a seemingly endless flight when you have no entertainment. And that’s what it was, it was a flight from my youth to my adult self. I am now proud to call myself a Culver cavalry cadet.
If I had been asked as a freshman what leadership was I would probably say that it’s just that, having the ability to persuade people to accomplish a unified goal. I had been a class leader in elementary school and on the sports field, but Culver taught me the true meaning. Not many people my age can say they have a level of respect from their peers to the degree that I have experienced. When you have the pride and inspiration in a unified goal that you can give an order to rally the troops to wake up early on a freezing Indiana morning and march to the riding hall for practice, that is leadership.
It is with this leadership that now, in my senior year, and with the rank of platoon leader, that I encourage my peers to march. But it’s not for me, and it’s not for the unit. It’s for the tradition that we have been building for over 100 years. The world famous Culver Black Horse Troop rides in the presidential inaugural parade, and for this we add considerable stress, give up our free time, and work to win all competitions. When I look into the eyes of a troop alumnus, who was in my shoes 50 years ago, I will immediately connect with him and no feeling in the world is as great as that satisfaction, making a connection of pride across the generations.
Almost overnight I changed from a timid young freshman who couldn’t lead his laundry into his closet, into a confident outgoing senior whose every decision affects the lives of many. In hindsight, I took a huge risk. I knew no one at Culver and knew only what I saw during my visit and on the website. Not only have I thrived in the midst of this challenging lifestyle, but I have learned to enjoy it. Earning my place in my unit is the fulfillment, and even more ironic is that the very high ranking cadet who harassed and yelled at me on the first day is now my best friend and roommate.