Lessons Learned from the Rodeo Arena
First and foremost, I’m a cowgirl.
Not one of those weekend-riding, Nashville concert-going sorority girls with a collection of cheap sparkly cowboy boots from a couple of bachelorette parties.
I’m a real deal - riding horses since before I was walking, rode 14+ hour days on a working ranch each summer, and have multiple state and national equestrian championships to my name.
“Souvenirs” from my illustrious rodeo career can be found on all aspects of my body - memories of 1200 lb horses flipping over on me, being double-barreled by a wild bronc, and having my bones shattered by a massive bucking bull named “Teddy Bear.” I roped steers, raced barrels, and can hog-tie just about anything with my eyes closed.
Today, when folks find out I spent years riding rodeo, they are surprised and comment on “what a jump” it was from the rodeo arena into academia, cyber, and government contracting. I don’t see how my first career and my current one are all that different, given that I learned a whole lot of lessons in the rodeo arena that I use every day. Both have involved immensely difficult, taxing work in highly competitive environments that are far from conducive to women, work-life balance, or even survival.
Here are three career Lessons Learned from the rodeo arena:
Lesson 1: Skill Mastery Trumps Short-Term Payouts
My Pop taught me how to ride horses. I loved trips to the barn with him, as he would talk me through each horse’s personality, their likes and dislikes, and give me advice on how I could make them my friend (spoiler: it’s not by feeding them treats!). Under his watchful eye, I rode an arthritic old mare for a few years - one that had taught my cousins before me “the ropes” of riding. As I got older, I wanted to ride a “real” horse - you know, one that doesn’t have a sway back, crackly knees, and can sustain a gait faster than a walk for more than two minutes.
He took me to a horse sale, where we looked around at the mounts up for auction. There was a well-trained sorrel Quarter Horse who had already accumulated multiple show ribbons for its 4-H rider. And then there was a green-broke (untrained) young mare who was reported to have broken the legs of its owner. I tested out both horses and asked my Pop what horse he thought would be best, secretly hoping he’d say the show-winning sorrel.
“Do you want to have a good time or do you want to become a good rider?” He asked me.
“A good rider!” I said.
“Well then, you should get the green-broke mare,” he replied.
The months that followed with that crazy mare left me convinced she was demon-possessed. I don’t think a day went by without her bucking me off, into fences, sides of barns, etc. My Pop rode beside me the whole time, teaching me how to respond when she hurled the worst of her 1,200 lb fury my way. I hated every day of the first year of owning that tyrant, but, eventually, I learned how to ride something that doesn’t automatically do what I want it to do. Over time, she became a phenomenal mount, and we went on to compete against $100k horses, steadily racking up our own collection of ribbons everywhere we went. She and I became a team, and I did learn how to really ride a horse.
There’s way too much emphasis on short-term payouts over skill mastery in our contemporary professional world. People take jobs they hate solely on compensation levels. They have no plan for career progression, much less goals or objectives that one can pursue in a systematic way. Instead of thinking through what they want to become in their career, they float easily adrift, pursuing only immediate gratification from career investments. If you want to build something worthwhile that will last, you must prioritize skill mastery over short-term gain. You should have a goal, and then work backward, taking responsibility for developing yourself into someone who has the skills necessary to attain that goal. It’s not going to just happen.
Read more: “Mastery” by Robert Greene
Lesson 2: Do Things Your Way
My favorite horse is a petite Arabian mare. You typically see this breed of horse running endurance races, or training dressage (which is kind of like horse ballet). They are highly intelligent, hot-tempered, and very sensitive mounts. My mare is no exception. She’s fiery, moody, and never hesitant to throw me off when I mess something up.
Typical rodeo horses are stock horse breeds - Quarter Horses, Paint Horses, and Appaloosas. These muscular, steady, agile steeds are much larger than Arabians, and not nearly as smart or sensitive. I never really liked stock horses, because I found them to be incredibly boring. When all my competitors saddled up their 16-handed stock horses, I trotted my feisty, fine-featured Arabian mare into the roping box.
Some competitions wouldn’t register me to compete if they knew I would be riding an Arab, because “everyone knows Arabs can’t rodeo!” Mine could. Plus, she was way safer for me to ride than some jug-headed stock horse who was just as likely to run into the steer as they were to stop on cue. My Arab mare placed well in every rodeo competition I competed on her in everything I could - barrel racing, breakaway roping, pole bending, and team roping. She was fast, sure-footed, and required the lightest touch as cues. Her success revealed the real reasons my competitors were so resistant to competing against us - their line-backer frames and equally muscular stock horse mounts looked really bad losing against our dainty little duo.
Professionally, many established stakeholders focus on gatekeeping practices as a way to maintain the status quo. Someone riding up on something different, approaching age-old sector challenges with a fresh perspective can be perceived as a threat to those who’ve done things this way forever. Through beating hundreds of cowboys and horses twice the size of my mare and me, I learned that there’s nothing wrong with doing things differently. People’s reactions of dismay have very little to do with reality or feasibility - it’s just a reflection of their own uncomfortability with trailblazers.
Learn more: Entrepreneurship: I Did It “My Way”
Lesson 3: When it Comes to Success, Think Outside the Box
I spent every waking, non-working hour practicing my rodeo skills. I roped everything, I bucked out colts, and even I cinched up young bulls and rode them out of a makeshift chute. After years and years of practice, I was ready to take on the premiere rodeo events - bareback riding, bronc riding, and steer wrestling. I was bored to tears with the girls’ events of the time - breakaway roping, barrel racing, goat tying, and pole bending. I’d already won those and wanted to try a new challenge. I could prove my capabilities to the rodeo officials, and assumed, in response, they’d allow me to compete in these traditionally all-male events.
No amount of arguing or pleading would do - the rodeo officials flat-out refused to let me compete in these events. Even when I demonstrated my well-honed riding and roping skills, the officials would not budge, “Stick to the girls’ events, honey child,” the old cowboy admonished me. I was so bored, plus the purse (the money you win at rodeo competitions) was so small for the women’s events, and so much bigger for the men’s events. I wanted to compete to win real money - not just enough to cover my expenses.
Given that they wouldn’t let me compete in the headlining rodeo events, I had to approach this problem from a new angle, and hence, my rodeo stock company was born. Through a little hem-hawing on the sidelines with the old cowboys, I found out the bucking bull owners received large sums of money for supplying the rodeo with rank livestock that would throw experienced cowboys sky high in less than eight seconds. So, instead of myself getting bucked off and breaking yet more bones in pursuit of the purse, I got paid every time it happened to one of the cowboys who jumped astride my wild rodeo stock.
This experience did more to prepare me for my career ahead than any professional development investments I’ve made since. When it comes to success, you need to think outside the box. When folks won’t hire you - as they didn’t me - start your own company. When your offerings aren’t selling, pivot into something viable. When your initial career plan blows up in your face because automation, AI, etc. approach things from a new direction. Opportunities are everywhere in our society. While managing bucking bulls wasn’t exactly the top of my rodeo aspirations, it was viable, sustainable, and profitable, and it allowed me to take my career journey to that next phase.
Learn more: An Entrepreneur’s Odyssey: Bootstrapping a Small Business in Government Contracting
Ready to saddle up?
In the end, the rodeo arena has taught me lessons that extend far beyond the dust and adrenaline of competition. It taught me that success isn’t about shortcuts—it’s about mastering your craft, even if it means enduring setbacks and frustrations. It taught me that doing things differently can be a strength, even when others doubt or dismiss your approach. Most importantly, it taught me to think outside the box when faced with obstacles and to find creative solutions that push the boundaries of what’s possible.
So saddle up, learn how to ride, and forge your own trail.