Growing up in a suburb of Houston meant homecoming and football were of the utmost importance. Every Friday night for as long as I could remember, we were at The Rig in Pearland, Texas, watching the Pearland High School Oilers battle whatever unfortunate team had to face us that night. I loved every part of it, but my favorite Fridays were homecoming.
Apparently, homecoming is not as big of a tradition in Arkansas, or anywhere, like it is in Texas. My freshman year at Harding, I remember sitting in Cathcart looking at old pictures of my homecoming mums, telling my new friends about date proposals that were only met with mockery.
No one knew what a homecoming mum was.
Essentially it is a giant bundle of ribbons, bells, lights, beads, flowers and honestly whatever else you want to put on it. The ribbons would say your name and what extracurriculars you were part of, spelled out in glittery plastic letters. Created by florists and Pinterest moms alike, mums were huge — sizes ranging from a cookie to a bike tire or larger. On top of that, receiving a mum and being asked to homecoming was a rite of passage. If you weren’t asked, you would just have to ask your mom to get you a mum.
I was no homecoming queen. I was in the marching band and sang the national anthem with the show choir at home games, so I wasn’t asked to homecoming until my junior year. Cheering on the sidelines with my crush was a time I thought I would never forget, but I did. It no longer holds a special place for me. I feel as if it would be pretty cringe-worthy for me to return to my high school for homecoming. When I see my own nieces wearing mums, I don’t get sentimental and wish I could go back to the “good ole days.”
My childhood homecoming has lost its magic for me.
Here at Harding, however, my love for homecoming has been revived. Though there are no giant mums or homecoming date proposals, the air of anticipation surrounding the arrival of this weekend is contagious. Even though I most likely won’t see my oldest friends of Harding’s past or attend the football game, I still love experiencing the pure joy of my peers.
When tailgating, there are alumni everywhere embracing old friends and parents playing cornhole with their kids. Harding celebrities like Dr. McLarty and Dr. Monte Cox will make appearances at Bison Park to visit their old buddies or social club tents. It’s a lovely display of the community Harding maintains across many generations. I love every part of it. This year, I am hoping I will see some unexpected faces and be filled, once again, by hot dogs and familiar, friendly feelings.
Harding Homecoming is a privilege to be a small part of. It is a long-standing tradition that encourages all of us to get to know more individuals at Harding — past, present and future. Each year, I love the long lines in town and that I can’t escape the bustle of campus.
There is something special about homecoming here, and I cannot wait to one day come back to the place I called home for the best years of my life. There is a home for you here, ready for you to come back whenever you need after your time at Harding. With each homecoming, I realize these are the “good ole days” I will reminisce on and remember fondly for future homecomings.
A place to call home
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