Finding My Footing: Growing Beyond Trauma in the Marching Arts
For World Mental Health Day, MAASIN is shining a light on a rarely discussed but deeply important issue in the marching arts, the lasting impact of trauma, mistreatment, and recovery. It’s time to acknowledge the harm within our activity and support healing by building a culture where mental health and safety of members comes first.
When I tell people about my involvement in the marching arts, I always say: “it changed my life”. Most people assume it was for the better; for the most part, they would be right. I do make the conscious choice not to tell them about the moments of pain and confusion, the abusive situations I was put and stayed in, the environments that didn’t feel safe, and the toll it took on my mental health because I experienced a lot of this at a fairly young age. I make that choice not just out of a desire to keep a certain level of privacy, but because there is so much more to my marching arts journey than the trauma I experienced - eventually, I found safe spaces and support, in places that encouraged me to grow as a performer, as a teacher and as a person.
However, no matter how different and welcoming those places are, they cannot take away from what happened before. I’m not here to share with you the details of everything I experienced. While I am open to discussing some aspects of my past, there is a time and a place - and it is not the point of this article. What I’m here to say is that healing while in the marching arts can feel very strange and complex, and that even as you’re stepping into places that feel good, things aren’t automatically easier.
A lot of therapists - and people - will tell you that healing is not linear. It’s annoying. And it’s true. After working on myself and what had happened to me, after the hard-earned growth and the growing perspective, I wasn’t expecting to be brought back to square one in the safe spaces I found myself in - or at least that’s what it felt like. I remember, at the start of my second to last summer of drum corps and my first one with the Boston Crusaders, our movement instructor came up to me and gave me a compliment about my dance skills. It was thoughtful and kind. And I froze. I didn’t know how to react. What did he mean? Was he lying? Was he going to take it back? Would he use it against me later if I messed up? This was a positive moment, or it should have been, he was being encouraging, but all it did was bring me back to the 14-year-old girl who didn’t know what was safe and who she could rely on.
I can think of so many moments that should have felt good while I found my place at Boston and eventually with the Pride of Cincinnati, but that were tainted by previous experiences in the activity. And at first, I was ashamed of that. I thought I wasn’t doing the proper work to heal, I thought I wasn’t grateful enough for these new and gentler opportunities. I say this with so much grace towards that past version of myself, but I was wrong.
You cannot erase the experiences that shaped you into the person you are. Healing means moving on from those experiences, yes - but it also means that, while I do not think they were appropriate or should have happened, I accept that they did happen. They are here with me, I take them with me as I grow. So, as much as I wish I could just replace my marching arts trauma with beautiful memories from new places, that’s not how it works. I don’t get to trade one memory for the other. I do, however, get to trade patterns and emotional responses, thought processes and expectations. For example, if someone gives me a compliment, I can assume their intentions are good, now - because I got to experience a safe environment that showed me consistent examples of that.
Finding your footing in new, safe spaces is hard after experiencing trauma in the marching arts. I’m here to tell you that if it’s something you have struggled or are struggling with, you’re not alone. The good moments don’t always get to be purely joyful like they are for those around us. But here’s the secret: the nature of these safe spaces makes it that, eventually, the joy does get to be there, uninterrupted. It’s not that time heals all wounds, or whatever people want you to believe. It’s that, with the effort the people in charge put into creating these consistently welcoming, loving, and safe environments, the ones that didn’t get the same experiences elsewhere now get to rewrite their trajectory in the marching arts - one interaction and one moment at a time.
So, there is time, and most importantly, there is hope. Even if you have yet to find that safe space. Even if you have yet to feel like you belong. There is a place for you, and your past won’t take all the good of it away from you. This good will be yours to keep - forever.
Laetitia Miron
MAASIN Women’s Caucus Chair
After 13 years as a performer, Laetitia Miron (she/her) has stepped into a full time teaching role and is currently a choreographer and technician at Third Legend Independent World. She has been a member of MAASIN since the fall of 2024 and currently serves on the Public Education committee, as well being the Women’s Caucus chair. She is a PhD student in sociology at the University of Cincinnati.
Cover photo by Adriane Baker.