The rodeo wasn’t what I expected. The bull riders were mostly boys—teenagers small enough to ride. I got close, where they joked and prayed. There was tenderness in their rituals, in the way they built trust with each other, with the animals and with their God. This world felt far from mine, but I wanted to be inside it. I wanted to see what can’t be seen from a distance: the faith, the camaraderie, the sadness and celebration that settles in the dust between rides.