There’s a particular kind of parenting milestone that sneaks up on you. It’s not the first day of school, or the driver’s license, or even the high school graduation. Turns out, traveling with your teen for a university audition is exactly that kind of milestone…More specifically, it’s the moment you’re sitting in an Uber in a city you haven’t visited in years, watching the traffic light cycle through green, yellow, red. Green, yellow, red. Green, yellow, red. But you’re not moving, and your daughter is gripping her dance bag, checking the time and not saying a word, and you realize: this one matters.
That was day two in Calgary. But let me back up.
From Flip-Flops to Frostbite
Beth-Rose had already been accepted into the University of Calgary’s Kinesiology program. That was exciting enough on its own. But she’s also hoping to get into their Dual Degree program, a five-year journey that would earn her both a Bachelor of Kinesiology and a Bachelor of Arts in Dance. To be considered, she had to audition. Living more than 300 kilometers away, she had the option of sending a video audition. But it was apparent that the University preferred to view auditions live, in a group setting. So off we went, just the two of us, father and daughter, from a relatively balmy plus-twelve on Vancouver Island to a deeply unpleasant minus-seventeen in Calgary.
I want to stress that minus-seventeen. That’s not a typo. That’s not a wind chill. That is the actual air temperature greeting you as you step off the plane and wonder what choices you made in life that led you here.
We got settled into our hotel near the university campus, and I discovered something exciting: there’s a Harvey’s nearby! For those who don’t know, Harvey’s is a burger chain I practically lived at during my Calgary school days, oh so long ago. I hadn’t had one in more than 25 years. We went that very first day. Right after checking in. And I must tell you, it did not disappoint. Even Beth-Rose approved. We’re now quietly calculating whether she even needs a full meal plan at the university, or whether weekly Harvey’s runs will cover it.
The Morning of the Audition
The audition was the next day, all day. A morning session, a lunch break, an afternoon session. Six hours of Beth-Rose proving she belongs in that program. My job was to get her there, find the room, and try not to embarrass her too much.
We were only about five minutes from the audition location on campus, so we planned to arrive fifteen minutes early for her nine o’clock registration. Beth-Rose likes to be early. I managed to book the ride without too much cursing. And the Uber showed up on time. Everything was going smoothly.
Then we hit the traffic light.
Red Light, Green Light
Left turn signal? Morning rush hour. The light cycled through. No left turn signal. We didn’t move. It cycled again. Still no left turn. Cars backed up behind us. A third time. Our driver was stoic. He raised his hands in helplessness and muttered a few expletives. Beth-Rose was quiet in a very specific way that dads learn to recognize. I was watching the time tick past 8:50, 8:53, 8:56…
I don’t know if Calgary traffic lights are just built differently, or if this particular intersection runs on geological time, but those light cycles felt like they lasted the better part of a political term. Finally, our driver made an executive decision, pulled back out into traffic, took the next exit, looped around on the overpass, and got us back on track.
We pulled up to the building at two minutes past nine.
One thing about showing up two minutes late to a place you’ve never been, in a building complex the size of a small nation: you have absolutely no idea where to go. The Kinesiology buildings at the University of Calgary are enormous, connected, labyrinthine structures. We wandered. We backtracked. Finally we stared at a building map on the wall and squinted at the tiny numbers. There was no context, no “You Are Here” dot. Couldn’t even tell which door we had come in.
We eventually spotted a group of students who were so tall and impressively built that Beth-Rose couldn’t actually see their faces. They pointed us in the right direction, all while flexing their sculpted biceps without even meaning to.
We found the dance room. Beth-Rose got signed in. There were still plenty of dancers arriving after her. Crisis averted.
Dad at Large
With Beth-Rose safely in her audition, I had about three hours to fill until the lunch break. I did what any sensible dad would do: I decided to “get a feel for the building,” and promptly got completely lost somewhere in the Science wing, three buildings over.
The campus buildings are all connected by overhead walkways and underground hallways, which sounds convenient and is, especially on cold March days, right up until you have no idea which direction you came from and everything looks like every other hallway. After asking a few folks for help, I eventually found my way back, with just enough time to meet Beth-Rose for the lunch break.
We ate in MacEwan Hall, which is connected to the Kinesiology buildings so you don’t have to brave the cold. Walking through MacEwan is like being in an airport. There’s a pharmacy, a travel agency, a bookstore, coffee shops, and a food court with what felt like a hundred different options. It’s the kind of place where you could theoretically spend an entire semester without going outside.
After lunch, Beth-Rose headed back for the afternoon session. And I decided to walk back to the hotel, since the sun had come out and it looked almost pleasant. I wanted to see how far a walk it was.
Of course I had left my sunglasses in the room.
Calgary in winter sun, surrounded by snow, is like staring directly into the face of a star. I walked back blinded, squinting, and questioning my own judgment, which is honestly a pretty normal state for me on these trips.
The Unexpected Moment
The audition wrapped up with a meet-and-greet and a Q&A for parents. We also were provided with complimentary tickets to a student dance show at the university theatre, put on by current students in the program. So we went in search of the theatre, since there are about 4 theatres on campus!
We found it, and were sitting in the theatre lobby, waiting for our Uber, when a young woman came up and asked if my daughter was Beth-Rose. She introduced herself as a fourth-year student, doing the dual degree program herself, for both dance and communications. She smiled and said, “Yes, I’m crazy!” and then congratulated Beth-Rose and wished her luck.
I wasn’t expecting that. Beth-Rose wasn’t expecting that. It was one of those small, warm moments that you can’t plan for. It told us a lot about the culture of that dance program and the people in it.
The show itself was wonderful. Three different dances, each choreographed by a different instructor, each about twenty minutes long. Our favourite was choreographed by a guest instructor from Uganda. That dance was unlike anything else on the program. Genuinely memorable.
Burgers, Bad Shortcuts, and a Corgi
After the show, we Ubered to a steakhouse near our hotel and had burgers. Neither of us were particularly hungry, but hey! One’s gotta eat. Afterward, we decided to walk back. It was only a short walk to the hotel. I spotted what looked like a shortcut as we left the restaurant.
It was not a shortcut. It led nowhere useful. We retraced our steps in the dark, in the cold, a bitter breeze in our faces, following the road properly like sensible people should have done in the first place.
Did I mention it was cold? Because it was very cold.
The next morning we took our time. Denny’s for a late breakfast, also a short walk from the hotel. We took no shortcuts.
I have a soft spot for Denny’s on road trips. It always feels like being on vacation when I eat at Denny’s. Our waitress was Spanish and absolutely hilarious. She called Beth-Rose “Chiquita” for the entire meal. It was a delight.
My Favourite Activity
Then, because Beth-Rose is heading to Calgary in September and needs to start thinking about her dorm room, we went to HomeSense. I’ll be honest with you: shopping is not my arena. That’s Beth-Rose and Heather’s territory. But since it was just the two of us, I did my best to be a useful presence. Beth-Rose has already informed me that when we bring her out in the fall, she wants Heather there for the design eye, and me there to assemble furniture and hang pictures. I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.
After shopping, my brother Rob met us at the hotel. We swung by my nephew (his son) Myles’s place, where we got to see his kids, and where Rob, a self-described non-dog-person, absolutely lost himself playing with the corgi on the floor. The dog loved Rob. Rob loved the dog. I felt a bit like we were intruding on an intimate moment.
It had apparently been about eight years since I’d seen Myles, which is the kind of thing that sneaks up on you and makes you feel things. But it was good to see him, and for Beth-Rose to meet her younger cousins.
That evening, Beth-Rose and I had a lovely dinner with my sister Deb and her husband Mark. It was the easy, comfortable kind of visit that reminds you why family matters.
Killing Time in a Corporate City
Our last day presented a logistical challenge. Late-night flight home (because I couldn’t justify spending an extra three hundred dollars to fly at a reasonable hour), and a hotel checkout at eleven. Twelve hours to fill.
We jumped on the C-Train and headed south with our bags. Mark met us at the southernmost station and took our luggage for safe-keeping. We got back on the train and headed back into downtown Calgary. My niece Kelsey had warned me that downtown Calgary on a Sunday is pretty quiet, being a very corporate city during the week. She wasn’t wrong. It was mostly empty storefronts and, shall we say, a colourful cross-section of humanity.
After getting off downtown, we found an indoor shopping centre with almost nowhere to sit and one washroom on the fourth floor. We had a coffee. We wandered. It was terribly exciting. The most interesting part was wandering the Devonian Gardens on the fourth floor.
A Tropical Garden?
The Devonian Gardens are exactly the kind of surprise you don’t expect to find in a downtown mall. A full hectare of botanical gardens, with over 500 trees, 50 varieties of plants, koi ponds, fountains, and a remarkable 900-square-foot living wall. All indoors, four floors up, free from the cold. It’s warm and humid. The gardens were apparently a gift to the city from the Devonian Group of Charitable Foundations, opening to the public in 1977, and they’ve been a quiet downtown refuge ever since. It’s the sort of place that makes you stop and think, “Wait, why is this here?” And then you just enjoy it.
My only gripe is there isn’t a lot of signage identifying the plants and trees. With such an impressive display of tropical foliage, you’d think there would be better signage. I want to know what kind of tree that is!
Ah well, it was time for lunch anyway…
Lunch was a recommendation from Mark: The Palomino Smokehouse. Right downtown. And it absolutely delivered. The place was pretty quiet on a Sunday afternoon, but apparently it gets busy for lunch during the week, and live music in the evening. The garlic fries alone were worth the trip downtown. So was the Breakfast Poutine!
We headed back to Deb’s for a last dinner and visit, then made our way to the airport on the C-Train, which offered its own interesting cast of fellow travellers. Then a flight home to Vancouver Island, back to the warmth, back to Heather, back to regular life.
And Now We Wait
We’re still waiting to hear whether Beth-Rose gets into the dual degree program. The audition went well, she felt good about it, and everyone we spoke to was warm and encouraging. But the decision isn’t ours to make.
What I can tell you is this: watching her walk into that audition, confident and prepared, after the traffic light chaos and the wrong turns and the lost dad wandering the Science building, I felt something that’s hard to name. Pride, obviously. But also something quieter. The particular bittersweet feeling of watching your kid become exactly who they’re supposed to be, right before they fly.
Calgary in March is not for the faint of heart. Especially if you’re a lightweight from the West Coast. But some trips are worth a little frostbite.
More soon, when we know more.
