By Savannah Ford | LTVN Social Media Editor
At Baylor, there are certain traditions you’re told will define your college experience before you even understand them. Line Camp, homecoming, Christmas on 5th and, perhaps most famously, Sing.
Baylor Sing is one of those traditions everyone promises you’ll never forget. Seven minutes of perfectly timed harmonies, costume changes and choreography — the kind of performance that makes you proud to be part of Baylor. From the audience, it looks effortless, joyful and inclusive.
But behind the curtain, Sing comes with a price, not just in money, but in access. And for the students who can’t participate or can’t secure a ticket in time, Sing doesn’t feel like a celebration, but like something happening without them.
When I transferred to Baylor, I didn’t know what Sing was.
I didn’t know what Pigskin was either. Honestly, I thought people were exaggerating when they talked about them like they were life-changing events. I came from a community college where traditions meant free pizza during finals week and maybe a themed spirit day if people showed up. So when everyone started talking about rehearsals, costumes and ticket sales, I assumed it was just another campus show.
Then I attended a dress rehearsal.
Sororities, fraternities and other student organizations ran through their performances, moving across the stage with precision, shouting lines in unison, spinning through choreography perfectly timed to the music. I was immediately impressed; the talent and dedication were undeniable.
But I also noticed something else: almost everyone on that stage belonged to the same circles. The groups performing were overwhelmingly Greek organizations, and the energy backstage was reserved for those “in the know.”
Over the decades, Sing has grown in ambition, spectacle choreography, handheld microphones, themed acts, ticketed shows, all creating the massive cultural event we see today. It’s beautiful. It’s awe-inspiring. And it’s mostly inaccessible.
Because while everyone talks about “Sing season” and the excitement surrounding it, that thrill isn’t universal. Students who aren’t in Greek life, who don’t have the connections or inside knowledge often watch from the sidelines, sometimes literally. Tickets sell out before many even know they exist, and with few exceptions, non-Greek students don’t get a chance to rehearse, perform or even feel like part of the tradition. Sing becomes a celebration for some and a reminder of exclusion for others.
I can’t forget the feeling of standing in the rehearsal crowd, clapping along, cheering quietly for the friends I knew on stage and realizing how many students weren’t represented there. Not because they lacked talent, but because access to the tradition is filtered through social structures, organizations, finances and insider knowledge.
Over its 70-year history, Sing has evolved and grown, but it still leaves people behind. The incredible devotion of performers is unquestionable, but the broader Baylor student body doesn’t always have a doorway in. And that matters. Traditions are meant to unite communities, yet here is one of the university’s most celebrated events, and it doesn’t fully include the people it claims to celebrate.
I don’t want to take anything away from Sing. I cheer for it as loudly as anyone. I admire the hours of work, the creativity and the energy. But attending that rehearsal as a transfer student gave me perspective. For all its beauty, Sing can also highlight who belongs and who doesn’t. And as Baylor continues to grow, it’s worth asking, how can one of the university’s most cherished traditions feel like home to more than just a few select groups?
So maybe the question isn’t whether Sing should change, but whether the experience around it can grow. More entry points, more ways to participate, more opportunities for students who arrive without built-in circles.
If Baylor traditions are meant to welcome us into the same story, then the next chapter should be written with more voices in it. Pride feels stronger when it’s shared, and traditions last longer when more people feel they belong in them.
