When Blue is in Your Blood

I didn’t choose to be a Tar Heel fan—it was in my blood from the start. Growing up in a house where Carolina blue wasn’t just a color but a way of life, I never questioned where my loyalties lay. Some kids grow up with bedtime stories or lullabies; I grew up with the sound of a basketball bouncing on hardwood and the hum of an anxious crowd through the TV speakers.

Growing up in Durham, deep in Duke territory, only made my loyalty to UNC even stronger. Surrounded by a sea of blue that wasn’t my shade, I learned early on what it meant to stand by something, even when you were outnumbered. Being a Tar Heel fan in Durham wasn’t always easy, but it reinforced what I already knew—true loyalty doesn’t waver.

My mom was the kind of fan who physically couldn’t sit still during a close game. When things got tight, she’d drop to her knees in front of the TV, as if she could force the ball through the hoop with sheer determination. My dad had a different approach—when the pressure got to be too much, he’d flip the channel for a few seconds, pacing in and out of the kitchen, convincing himself he wasn’t watching while still hanging on every moment.

My first UNC football game, 2009.

That was my introduction to UNC sports: passion, superstition, and an unwavering belief that no matter what, you always pull for the Heels.

It’s funny how sports can shape the way you see yourself. Loyalty, the kind that makes you stick with something even when it breaks your heart, became second nature to me. Because being a Tar Heel fan isn’t just about celebrating the wins—it’s about enduring the gut-wrenching losses, the years that don’t go the way you hoped, and the moments when you convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, you should stop caring so much (but you never actually do).

That same loyalty extends beyond sports. It’s in the way I stick by the people I love, the work I throw myself into, and the passions that drive me. I don’t waver easily. If I care about something, I’m all in. Just like my mom on her knees in front of the TV, just like my dad pacing the kitchen, I care deeply, sometimes to a fault.

Some things are just a part of you, woven into who you are before you even realize it. And for me, Carolina blue isn’t just a color—it’s a commitment, a tradition, and a reminder that some loyalties never fade.

When it came time to apply to college, there was only one place I truly wanted to be. I had spent my whole life watching, cheering, and dreaming of what it would be like to be a student at UNC. The idea of walking through the same campus where legends had played, sitting in the stands as more history was made—it felt like something I had been waiting for my whole life. But wanting something and getting it are two different things, and UNC is no easy school to get into.

I remember the day I got my acceptance letter. The nerves leading up to opening that email, the moment of disbelief when I saw the words "Congratulations," and then the pure joy that followed. It wasn’t just about getting into a great school; it was about stepping into a legacy that had been a part of my family for as long as I could remember.

Now, as a student, the connection runs even deeper. Watching games from the Dean Dome instead of my living room, walking past the Old Well, and feeling the electric energy of rushing Franklin Street after a big win—it all makes sense now. I didn’t just grow up as a Tar Heel fan; I became a Tar Heel. And with that comes a lifelong commitment—not just to the team, but to the spirit of this place, to the loyalty, passion, and pride that make it so special.

Beyond sports, UNC has shaped me in ways I never expected. Early on, I decided to pick up a history minor, drawn to the way history connects the past to the present. That decision led me to one of my favorite professors, Matt Andrews, who teaches history through the lens of sports. Four out of five of my history courses have been with him, each one deepening my understanding of how sports reflect broader societal changes. This semester, I’m taking my last class with him—Race and Basketball—bringing my journey full circle. It feels fitting that my final class with the professor who has influenced my academic path is centered on the sport that has meant so much to me for as long as I can remember.

In many ways, my time at UNC has mirrored what it means to be a Tar Heel fan. There have been moments of triumph and moments of challenge, but through it all, my love for this place has only grown stronger. Whether it's in the stands of the Dean Dome, the classrooms where I’ve discovered new passions, or the streets of Chapel Hill after a big win, I see reminders of why this school means so much to me. Being a Tar Heel isn’t just about basketball or even about college—it’s about loyalty, resilience, and the connections that last a lifetime. And just like I always have, I’ll keep pulling for the Heels, no matter what.

Because being a Tar Heel isn’t just something you do—it’s something you are.