Small Town, USA
They say we never miss out on blessings that we’re supposed to receive. And that is 100% tried and true.
Growing up in small town, USA was incredible. Perspective was everything... Some believed we could never leave that small town. Others thought if you had a dream, then dream big, and go after it. Weather you believed one or the other... you were right.
My journey to where I am out today is unique to say the least- “non-traditional” to some. I was the epitome of a “too small, too slow” athlete, who happened to work as hard as he could, whenever he got the chance. Often times, those chances were few and far-between.
Arguably out of obligation, during my senior season, my high school coaches granted me the chance to compete as a legit, varsity football player- never seeing the field for the first full quarter of a game... Same story line, different platform that winter. On the wrestling mat, I was a vocal leader- more comfortable with my abilities- But again, falling short of each and every goal I set for myself.
This became a trend- I would ask myself, “at what point are you just going to submit to mediocrity and succumb to routinely coming up short. Your goals are unrealistic...” I cannot however, pinpoint a time where defeat wasn’t any longer an option- But I can remember the overbearing fire, to prove myself to my closest friends and my largest critics.
Stifling that fire, I embarked into a career that everyone couldn’t help but be proud of me for. I spent my 18th birthday in Ft. Jackson, South Carolina finishing up my 6 months of basic combat training and advanced individual training for the U.S. Army. Returning back to Washington as a new, spirited young man- I began my obligation to the Washington Army National Guard.
Fast-forward 5 years, mandatory growth and maturity naturally ran its course. Again, ‘perspective’ continued allowing me to grow as a career minded & ambitious young fella. I spent much of my free time going above and beyond the required obligation. Participating nationally in “Soldier of the Year” competitions and “Modern Army Combatives” tournaments. That “fire” I continued to stifle, was now being smothered by my short-term accomplishments in the military. And just as history tells it, 3 things that cannot be hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth... My fear of regret had become my truth that no amount of professional success could overcome.
Nearing the end of my 6 year marriage to the military, I knew that I HAD to take that leap of faith. A path down an unknowing and uncertain road, leading towards my childhood dream... I wanted to play Division 1 college football.
Admittedly, what had been a long shot 7 years prior, was now a sure fire face-plant with the odds stacked tall against me. A very average student-athlete from Eastern, WA- who is now older than most college graduates, with no proper training or direction, one last paycheck in his pocket, 24.99% interest rate on a truck he couldn’t afford, will set out to become an NCAA athlete. “Best of Luck.”
Short of throwing a dart on the map, I had done a little bit of research as to how someone “non-traditionally” makes it to the bright lights of Division 1 college football. Cue ‘Orange Coast Junior College.’ I had decided on a very accomplished academic 2-year community college with a fancy football field and located as close to the beach in Southern California as I could(n’t) afford.
Sleeping in (the bank’s) extended-cab Toyota Tacoma, with a Uhaul strapped behind me was how I exhausted my first 6 days in Costa Mesa, CA. Just before I spent my last dollar, I came across a teammate looking for a new roommate, in a very over-priced, 2 bedroom apartment across the street from our school. The stars had aligned somewhat, and my momentum had passed the test from that infamous first week of my journey.
Going into my last semester of Junior College, I had done everything I needed to do to catch the attention of recruiting coordinators across the country- on the field... Apparently, the NCAA requires non-traditional athletes like myself, who hadn't taken the SAT’s, to complete their Associate’s Degree prior to transferring... “Oh...”
1st opportunity to truly give-up: To nobody else’s fault but my own, I had fallen short of my “plan to graduate” on the standard date that Spring. Not only was I missing both Freshman and Sophomore English course credits, but I had tested one-class below the required mathematics requirement to apply to most major universities. I also had no clue how many credits I officially completed up to that point... That was actually a question I wish I wouldn’t have asked the graduation counselor that morning.
“Paul, you will need 33 semester credit hours to graduate.” - Doing the basic math in my head... a “transferable” AA degree is 60 credit hours. 60 - 33 = 27...
I would need to complete more course credits in this one semester than I have completed my entire first year-and-a-half of college...
Unfortunately, with 12 units considered “full-time,” the most one campus would allow you to take is 19. And apparently no campus in the country will allow you to take Freshman & Sophomore English at once. And last but certainly not least, I had to test back into an appropriate math class that 4-year universities will accept as a transferable credit.
One by one, college coaches began dropping off the radar. Recruiting had ended for most of them and I was really feeling sorry for myself and my current circumstance. With every opportunity to pack up and go home, I decided to entertain the idea of taking two condensed 8-week English courses (at 2 different campuses) back-to-back, study for another math placement test, apply to a sister-college of OCC to help wrap up those last 6 credits and squeeze into the recruiting deadline by August.
28 semester credits - a part time job - keeping my body physically ready - and traveling to 3 different college campuses... was the plan. That plan had to be executed without the aforementioned Toyota Tacoma that the bank had decided to take back 7 months prior.
My Junior College Football Coach had brought me into his office that same week. I wasn’t a hard guy to find- running sprints outside of their office windows every morning at 5am... I had told him my plan- he smiled and said, “Paul- there are a lot of Division 2 and D3 schools out there that would love a player like you... enjoy your next 2 years and go somewhere that would accept you right now.”
I believe that was the last time I ever spoke to him. At that point, a conversation like that was all I needed to overcome every ounce of adversity that myself and the world around me had in store. Bus rides, late nights, early mornings all became part of my normal routine. I was even able to get evicted from across the street! My last couple months of Junior College were spent on the bus, in the gym, at the library, or asleep on a buddy’s couch.
I had stayed up all night preparing for my statistic’s final the morning of graduation. Like a Boston Marathon finish, I had felt myself crawl across the stage to receive that diploma. I summoned enough energy to enjoy the moment- but also knew the distance I still needed to travel to accomplish my goals.
It wasn’t until mid-august of 2015 when I had received my first Division 1 phone call. The University of Minnesota had gotten a hold of my (self-taught) long-snapping film. The tape was my “Plan-B” for getting my foot in the door somewhere... somehow. After answering many calls, responding to every email, explaining my eligibility story -referencing my time in the military... I had finally found a home.
Arkansas State University: Defensive Coordinator Coach Joe Cauthen had called me and with his renowned southern accent, asked me if I’d like to come play for him in Jonesboro, AR. A program with a history of winning games, multiple Sun-Belt Conference Championships, and almost a sure Bowl-Game selection each year, my heart was set and my decision was made.
A dream come true wouldn’t adequately explain the feeling I had walking onto the field at Arkansas State University. A division 1 campus that made me feel like I had really made it. 2 years later, with 2 conference championship rings, 2 bowl game appearances, and a Bachelor’s Degree- I could finally say “Mission Accomplished.”
It did not take very long at all for God to give me a new purpose. Shortly after graduation I followed my passion back into the coaching world- coaching high school wrestling once again. Shortly after graduation, Paul Swanson III came into the world, followed by my beautiful daughter, Skyler Boone Swanson. These moments are what also allowed me to build up the courage to return back into the Washington Army National Guard as an Officer candidate, commissioning as an Infantry Officer in September, 2021.
Relocating back to the west coast was icing on the cake. Being home after pursuing such a far fetched dream has been utter relief. Building a legacy & pursuing my career as a clinical mental health counselor and a certified mental performance consultant.
Cause & Effect has afforded me every opportunity to impact people all across the country. Focused on maximizing the potential of student-athletes in sports, school, and life through mental health and elite performance.
I have absolutely found my purpose in life and thank God everyday for his timing and care.
Just a kid from Small Town, USA.
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