When I go to Yates, you typically won’t find me on the track, treadmills, bikes, or even pumping some iron. No, you will usually find me in one of the racquetball or squash courts—despite the fact that I don’t play either sport. You’ll see me throwing up circular discs continuously into the air, only to catch them and throw them right back up. You will see me juggling, and those rings are just one of the props you can find in my ragged and torn juggling bag.
When I was in 8th grade, I attended a summer program at a local high school where I saw my first juggling show performed by two high school students. I went home that day, found three tennis balls, and spent the next few weeks teaching myself how to juggle. A year later, I found myself joining the Saint Ignatius High School Circus Company.
So proud of my ability to juggle three balls, I marched into the first meeting, expecting people to want to learn from me. When I arrived, however, I was taken aback. In the school’s old gymnasium, people were throwing up object after object, usually five or more at a time. They were spinning, making unique patterns, even passing the objects back and forth to each other. Soon enough, I was ready to take the next step with the club and start performing. The club itself performs over 100 times a year all over Cleveland. We performed everywhere—schools, church groups, nursing homes, and any other local festivities. As if I wasn’t hooked enough already, going to these shows pushed me over the edge. I got to travel all over the city, seeing places I had no idea existed, bringing joy to people by doing something I truly loved.
Performing became so much more than successfully completing difficult tricks. In fact, it was often the simplest tricks that gave me the most joy. The simple tricks allowed me the luxury of looking out into the crowd. I could see the excitement on the kids’ faces, the amazement on the adults’ faces, and even the “too-cool for this show” teenagers trying not to crack a smile after a corny joke was told.
My experience peaked my senior year when I was the president of the club. That year I helped write and choreograph a 90-minute performance, which ultimately lead to our acceptance to the International Jugglers Association Festival that summer. That summer the group traveled to Sparks, Nevada, where we competed on an international level for the first time ever. We performed three of our routines, and although we did not win, the experience was absolutely amazing. Later at the festival, I competed in the international joggling championships. Yes, it is what it sounds like—running and juggling at the same time. I came away with several gold medals, giving me the right to say that I am an international joggling champion.
After that weeklong festival concluded, I looked back on my time with the club—after all, it was all over for me. I stood in front of an unassuming audience with a beet-red face, absolutely terrified, trying to not forget the script and trying not to drop anything. As a freshman, I hated public speaking and was one of the shy kids that liked to keep to himself. Four years and over a 100 shows later, public speaking isn’t nearly as terrifying, and I now look forward to busting out a few tricks in the middle of a crowd just to gain some attention and meet some new people. Because of the Circus Company and my juggling skills, being a freshman in college was not nearly as difficult as being a freshman in high school.
Last year, I juggled at the SAC fair trying to create interest in a juggling club I wanted to start. I was able to draw some big crowds by juggling machetes and torches and even balancing a table on my chin, but I was unsuccessful in finding other jugglers on campus to help start a club. Nevertheless, more good came out of the experience. I managed to get a picture of myself in The Hoya and a few of the other clubs, such as the Hawaiian Club, took down my information and contacted me throughout the year to perform at their events. Several people around campus even know me simply as “Juggles,” a nickname the club volleyball team gave me. So nowadays, you can find me at Yates or on the front lawn trying to keep my skills sharp, or maybe showing off at social events by balancing chairs on my face or juggling random objects people give me. Despite the struggles I have encountered starting a club, or run-ins I’ve had with DPS because of my machetes, I continue to perform and continue to love every second of it.
