Rodeo Ticket is an online rodeo ticket company that supports students with interest in rodeos of all disciplines who pursue further education. Annually Rodeo Ticket is offering a $500 scholarship to the winner of our annual “Rodeo Enthusiast” essay contest. People from many different backgrounds enjoy rodeos. We want to hear & share your inspiring story.
Participants must be able to verify enrollment for college at an accredited university inside the USA during the fall semester of the same year the essay is submitted.
Whether you grew up going to rodeos, or you just barely went to your first rodeo as an adult, write a short essay explaining what inspired you to attend, and what you learned through the experience. Prepare an essay sharing your rodeo story between 750 and 1,500 words in length. Send your essay to firstname.lastname@example.org with “Rodeo Enthusiast – Scholarship” in the subject line – All applications must be submitted between January 1 and August 15 to be included in the contest of the same year. The contest winner will be notified on or before October 1. Please include a photo of yourself with your essay submission. Winning contestant(s) will have their photos posted on our social media and on our website.
Rodeo Ticket is committed to protecting the privacy of all our visitors. By using www.rodeoticket.com and submitting a scholarship application, you grant all rights and ownership of submitted content to Rodeo Ticket, regardless of whether your entry is selected as a winner. Rodeo Ticket reserves the right to publish submitted work in any manner Rodeo Ticket sees fit. Selection of winning submissions is entirely at the discretion of Rodeo Ticket. Each scholarship winner will be contacted by Rodeo Ticket via the same email address that was used to submit the application. Winner(s) will be confirmed ONLY after providing proof of enrollment in the form of a copy of a tuition bill OR letter of proof from the accredited United States college or university at which the winner(s) is enrolled. Winners will be publicly announced on RodeoTicket.com, and Rodeo Ticket will mail the winner(s) their check.
My next breath catching in my throat, I gasp in anxious anticipation and agitated apprehension as my gaze traces the trajectory of the sprinting stallion. Blonde hair streaking behind her from the strength of her speed, the cowgirl crouches over the pommel of the saddle. Even from the distant outskirts of the arena, I watch as she murmurs into the twitching ear of her mount. The pair approaches the final barrel. Around me, the crowd falls suddenly still, all eyes riveted on the girl and her steed. In the silence, the horse wheels in a tight circle as it rounds the obstacle and dashes directly towards the finish line. An image flits unbidden into my mind as the team gallops towards victory. I picture myself in the boots of that cowgirl, donning a woven hat and straddling the same majestic beast while I race against the clock. Chills tremor down my spine as I allow myself to savor the daydream for a single moment before forcing my mind back to the present. Each year, the rodeo reawakens and renews my desire to live the life of a cowgirl, and each year, the yearning only grows stronger.View Full Text
As a child, whenever I visited my grandparents, we always had storytime with my grandfather. He would tell us stories about how he had always wanted to be a cowboy. His favorite "celebrities" were Roy Rodgers, Dale Evens, and Butch Cassidy. So naturally, we grew up watching westerns, listening to old country music, and line dancing our little hearts away. Fortunately for my grandfather and my family, he made that dream of being a cowboy become a reality when he and my grandmother bought a ranch that they ran for the past 30 years. So I have had the fortune of getting to spend my summers riding horses, sorting cattle, playing with my cousins, and going to the local rodeos. In the summers, three rodeos are put on within an hour of our ranch. My aunt and uncle are team ropers, and as we have gotten older, my cousins have joined in the roping fun. It was always the most enjoyable time of the summer. We would get dressed up in our nicest western attire and spend the day watching bareback riding, barrel racing, team roping, and of course, bull riding. It has always been a place where we could cheer on our local favorites, enjoy some good food and watch the competition unfold.View Full Text
My grandfather lived in Payson, so I was only able to visit him a few times a year as a child. Every time we drove into Payson from Phoenix, I saw the signs for the World’s Oldest Continuous Rodeo, which was always scheduled for my birthday weekend. My family has a long history of cowboys and ranchers, which unfortunately stopped with my grandparents. My father’s family has lived in Texas since the civil war. His grandparents herded cattle and raised chickens. My parents met after high school and went to rodeos and rodeo dances together in northern Arizona. As I grew up, they lost their interest in attending these events because we lived in Phoenix and it was always too hot or too far away. However, they passed their love of the cowboy way of life on to me. My father taught me to two-step as a little girl standing on his toes and took me to visit his family’s ranch where I learned to ride horses and adjust to life outside of the city. My mother taught me to pray and treat others as I want to be treated, just two of the ideas she considered to be the “cowboy code.” Though I was raised in the city, my family held onto the core values of the cowboy way of life, teaching me to use “sir” and “ma’am” and to never be afraid of dirt. I begged my parents to take me to the Payson rodeo as a child, but they refused because August in Arizona is too hot to be outside. My grandfather offered to take me for my birthday one year, however he became very ill and passed away before we were able to go.View Full Text
When my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, she soon forgot who I was. I watched her struggle to enunciate the syllables which formed my name, and eventually forget them altogether. I felt helpless as I reached for her hand and watched her view me as a stranger, confused by my desire to comfort her. Yet, I understood that my grandmother was much more than this disease. She was the strongest person that I had ever known, and this encounter would never change that.View Full Text