Seated alone in a plush, worn loveseat, I watch life spin and bustle around me. As I wait for my little sister’s performance at the State Destination Imagination competition, I observe the chaos surrounding me. Teams hurry from place to place, dragging their props along. My quiet little bubble of contentment detaches me from the rest of the world. Adolescents nervously pace the hallways before marching reluctantly into a performance site. These children look as if they are about to be picked apart by crows; however, they simply traveled to Stevens Point, Wisconsin for judges to critique their well-prepared skits. If kids perform excellently, the judges may advance them to Globals.

A group of elderly people gather to my right. I assume they arrived to watch their grandchildren perform. What better way for a woman to watch her daughter’s daughter bring out her vast inner creativity than to watch her enthusiastically take on the role of an entirely other person? What better way for a man to watch his son’s son flaunt scientific innovation than to view the boy’s display of a cleverly-designed mechanical prop? I watch as the elderly men and women arrange themselves into an organized pattern for a photograph. These people at least take the time to appreciate the event. Without knowing when they will next convene again, the group appears to savor the chance to enjoy the weekend while watching their heirs burst with life.

In contrast to the calm, elderly people, a mother and a daughter briskly walk past. The daughter, clad in a costume resembling Amelia Earhart, taps her fingers rapidly on a phone while her mother chatters distractedly about the importance of one’s slow, deliberate word pronunciation when speaking before judges. As the mother and daughter whiz by me, the kin do not even realize the fun they could have if they just paused and recognized the colorful pieces of art surrounding them.

A team of young girls amble past me, rolling props made of Styrofoam and wood toward a performance site. The young competitors painted the props like rocks with metallic, colorful strips of paper glued to random nooks and crannies on the material. I can’t even imagine what the peculiar scenery is supposed to resemble, but obviously, the girls attain a unique vision. The beauty of Destination Imagination shines through with such an abstract prop. During the skit, children reveal the meaning of the props through their elaborate words and actions. By bringing their imagination to life, it doesn’t matter if the audience can’t quite decipher what a strange blob shaped slightly like a rabbit’s foot supposedly resembles. The kids’ acting explains the artwork.

Two brothers stop to rest on a sofa near me. They appear unconcerned with the affairs of the busy building. I suspect the pair tagged along with their family to watch their sibling perform. However, I suppose the two nights’ stay at a hotel contributed to their utter excitement to witness the revolutionary art of adolescents performing extravagant skits. Actually, the lure of hotel swimming pools and breakfast buffets likely proves to be the only reason the two mischievous brothers came along and now end up plopping down into the plush, leather cushions beside me. Without the luxuries of staying in accommodations away from home, I presume the brothers would not have come to the competition at all.

My mother appears in the corner of my eye. She signals for me to conclude my work and proceed to my sister’s performance room. My chance to start enjoying the event waits. Breaking free from my still, peaceful resting place, I step into a new world of imagination.