What ‘Bear Down’ Means to Me

To be honest, I’ve never been a spirit-driven, rah-rah kind of guy. Which is ironic, because as creative director for University of Arizona Philanthropy and Alumni Engagement, it’s my job to understand the Bear Down spirit and reflect it back to our alumni.

After meeting Wildcats from all walks of life, I’ve found that the subtle shades of pride Wildcats express simply by pursuing their passions, in all professions and fields of study, add up to a richer and deeper sense of spirit than any one of us could express alone.

Take me, for example. I came here for graduate school — creative writing. I decided to attend not because I understood the university’s character, lore and history, but because it made sense professionally. The university had offered to pay my tuition in exchange for teaching English composition to freshmen, so I was able to pursue my development as an artist in a financially responsible way. Other students may make similarly practical choices — and many of the things we come to love about the university are based on individual experiences rather than our appreciation for school spirit and tradition. I, for instance, spent two years studying writing, and I didn’t learn the story behind the Bear Down motto until I got a job here and became responsible for understanding the university’s story.

Now I spend a lot of time thinking about the origins of “Bear Down” and John “Button” Salmon. If you think about his story, it’s remarkable: John died as the result of a car accident before a football game almost 100 years ago, and that tragic event has forever shaped the U of A.

But see, I’m already making some assumptions. Some people reading this — including alums — may not know the official Button Salmon story.

According to alumni.arizona.edu, John Byrd “Button” Salmon was a popular campus figure — student body president, varsity quarterback, baseball catcher — who was returning from Phoenix with friends when an automobile accident near Florence left him critically injured. Aged just 22, Salmon lost his battle and died Oct. 18, 1926. The football coach at the time, J.F. “Pop” McKale, visited Salmon in the hospital before his death and shared Button’s last message with the football team: “Tell them … tell the team to bear down.” History isn’t clear about whether McKale invoked the phrase to the team before a game against New Mexico A&M that same week or two weeks later before a game against New Mexico in Tucson. But it doesn’t matter: The Wildcats won both.

And that’s the story, which makes me wonder what would have happened if the Wildcats had lost and what it was about Salmon that made his dying words a rallying cry. Perhaps some of it is contextual: In 1926, there were fewer students on campus, so it was probably easier to be popular and well-known. But, why, even today, do his dying words stir the spirit?

The U of A community now embodies the spirit of “Bear Down” even without actively attributing it to Salmon’s memory. His famous phrase has become symbolic — mythic — and it permeates how we see ourselves as Wildcats. Perhaps it was never completely about him. Maybe Button’s tragic story simply lifted a mirror for the institution to articulate itself for the very first time: We are a university, in the harsh Sonoran Desert, that understands struggle, that understands the power of community and hard work and the triumph of pursuing things that feel impossible to achieve.

Given our history, this makes sense, but it’s also surprising. As an institution that advocates for innovation and progress, both in our research and student experiences, it’s interesting that we tie our core identity to such a deeply tragic story.

“Bear Down” essentially means “grit your teeth and do the thing that you know will be hard.” It’s the feeling the football team had after losing their starting quarterback and going on to win without him — relishing in adversity and the resilience to push through it.

“Bear Down” also represents the student experience. On the one hand, the university experience is about having fun, pursuing passions and boldly finding the best within yourself, but it can also be difficult: full of uncertainty, heartbreak, setbacks, breakthroughs, and then — hopefully — personal triumph. The spirit of “Bear Down,” I think, acknowledges that personal struggle, the promise of triumphs to come and an appreciation for a college experience that allows one to step into a future self — a self forged by experimentation and occasional world-changing innovations. As Wildcats, we celebrate it all.

I think about my time as a student, and these ideas resonate. While I have many fond memories, I also have negative ones. Some of them are personal and unrelated to my studies, but I still attribute them to my time at the university and to my development as a whole, complicated person.

When I started writing this essay, I thought I’d go visit John “Button” Salmon’s grave and tell you what it looks like. I’d stand next to it and meditate on what he really did, what that meant. But now I understand that none of that is necessary. I don’t have to go anywhere; I don’t need to illuminate something abstract and profound. And neither do you.

All I really have to do is think about who I am and what it took to get here. Think about what I’m grateful for, the opportunities I’ve been given and the people who took time to teach me. The joys of getting things done. The heartbreaks that made me. The dark, sweaty Tucson nights, the streetlights and neon of Fourth Avenue, the beer bottles and long talks about writing and meaning, the relentless sun, the saguaros standing together. Think about breakfasts with friends who still know me, who love me. Who watched me grow. The depth of how much we now know each other. How I met my wife here. My daughter. Her first words. The hope of things to come. The privilege a university has in making so many facets of past, present and future possible.

Cory Aaland is creative director for University of Arizona Philanthropy and Alumni Engagement. He graduated from the University of Arizona Creative Writing Program in 2013.