The arena was filling up fast as I found my seat. It was second to the last in my row and section, next to a seat unfilled. There on a normal folding out, bland grey chair- my jacket. My jacket for the next three years, carefully laid over the top of the chair, waiting to be put on. In the center, where I would soon be, no plastic, no tags, a…tie? A tie, blue in solid color, gold stripes diagonally going down, and at the single pointed end- the letters FFA. I don’t know how to tie a tie. I’m a girl. I’m supposed to wear a scarf! But I focus back on the jacket-  My jacket.

It was blue, real blue, not the blue of my mother’s that looked like purple and reeked of mothballs. Blue as the ocean, so deep and vibrant. The emblem stood out, proud and strong. Noise all around me faded away. The eagle ready to fly and fight for our freedom, the shield and arrows in talons, centered at the top. Determination in its eye, will be the determination I have for FFA. The shield, resembling the american flag, had stars and stripes, colors of america, one of the few other colors in the emblem. Gold, corn gold filled throughout the emblem, blazing in unity. Round of corn in a circle, each ear side by side, like a cob viewed from the side, made the circle of the emblem that the eagle sat on top of. The word AGRICULTURAL, was centered and wrapped at the top in the inside circle of the corn. At the bottom in the same fashion, EDUCATION. And centered underneath agricultural, was FFA. The only three words, in national blue, to grace the emblem, holding a deeper meaning. Coming up and away from “education”, was a plowed field. In the middle sat an owl staring with wisdom and concentration, perched a top on an old plow. The type of plow a farmer would push through a field and through the dirt, creating rows for his crops. On the horizon, a red sun shone through-the future of agriculture.

I lifted the jacket to my nose, it was stiff, yet soft, awaiting my warm presence inside. It smelled of….plastic. Plastic of new, and unforeseen trips and travels. The softness of corduroy graced my palms, ridges bumping across my fingertips. Fuzz tickling me, speaking of my future. The jacket whispered to me...so I obliged-just for a second.

As a group, we all put our jackets on together. A sea of white turned to blue.