Chapter Twenty-Three - The Secret Power of Showing Up Loud

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Secret Power of Showing Up Loud

“YOU DON’T HAVE to be a cog. You can be the conveyor belt.”

Every school’s got its version of spirit.
Assemblies, rallies, pep bands, themed dress-up days, awkward skits, and posters taped to every wall.
And every school kid has the same first instinct: this is lame.

But you know what? It’s not.
It’s fun.
If you let it be.

We had all kinds of events.
Musicals. Plays. Talent shows. Assemblies. Lip-sync competitions.
Some of them were corny. Some were amazing. Most were both.

The musicals? Seriously good.
Tons of work. Great voices. Underrated energy.
Same with the plays, you could tell who really loved the craft.
Talent shows? Just people being brave.
More bravery on that stage than most people muster in a lifetime.

But the real heart of it all was our House System.
Straight outta Harry Potter.
We were sorted into one of the various houses freshman year, mine was Charity (historically dominant of course), and from there, it was game on.

The House Competitions were the peak of high school culture.
We had lip-sync battles between houses, big ones.
These weren’t lazy iPod performances. These were full-on productions.
Lights. Choreography. Drama. Props. Group unity.

And yeah, I went big.

Freshman year, I showed up in a full inflatable panda suit for a Kung Fu Panda-themed bit to the song “Kung Fu Fighting.”
One of the house teachers dressed up as a second panda, and we had this whole ridiculous skit with him chasing me off the stage while everyone else did kung fu choreography behind us.

It was dumb.
It was hilarious.
It was perfect.

But junior year?
That’s when I peaked.

We did the Big Time Rush theme song.
And I played Gustavo Rocque.
And when I tell you… I became him. Full on cosplay.
I nailed every finger wag. Every dramatic face wipe. The body language. The posture. The full grumpy talent agent energy.

I was out there serving Nickelodeon Broadway realness and loving every second.

Because here’s what people forget:
These events? These skits and dances and goofy moments?
They’re moving machines.
Little pop-up worlds where every role matters.

And you don’t have to be a cog in that machine.
You can be the conveyor belt.
The one who keeps it rolling.
The one who gives people something to remember.

Whether you’re a panda, a pop culture villain, or just a loud kid in the front row, show up.
Lean in. Play your part.
Because that’s where the memories are.

Sure, sometimes the assemblies are weird.
Sometimes they bring in someone to tell you to never drink soda again or that your jeans are sinful.
But in between those, there’s gold.
There’s joy.
There’s community.
And there’s you, finding your own weird place in it.

So go to the musical.
Roll down the hill after the match.
Wear the costume.
Sing the song.
Be the bit.

Be the Rocque.

Be the Rock.