-7 days

I have enjoyed the best summer ever.  From two incredible vacations, to seeing DCI both nights at one of the biggest shows of the season with one of my best friends, to all of the random get togethers with the friends that have made my high school experience truly unique, this summer has gone by much faster than I would have hoped.  I’m glad that this summer was as amazing as it was, because it helped to build up my friendships and has helped me to get closer to a lot of people.

I leave for college in a week.  And it is a very strange feeling to know that tomorrow many of my friends will be going to band camp, and I won’t be there.  I’m not sad about it; I had my time with that band.  It is time to start something new.  But it is still weird to not be going, seeing as my past four summers have all ended with band camp at the high school. 

I am more than excited to start a new adventure with a new band with a show that I can’t tell what the theme is.  I’ve missed marching more than I expected too.  I haven’t marched since March (ha, irony!) since my knee kicked me off the line.  It’s also weird how I missed marching trumpet-something I didn’t expect to.  While I loved playing baritone, and loved learning bass clef and a new instrument, I missed marching trumpet. 

So in a week’s time, I’ll be all settled into my dorm and at a band practice.  I don’t have the worries most people have about school.  I’ve been becoming friendly with a lot of people at Moravian, so I’m not worried about the whole OMG-I’m-gonna-know-nobody-there thing.  I really haven’t encountered a mean person, and all of the people I’m going to be living with in my suite seem like really chill people.  I’m not worried about the roommate situation, because I don’t have one-single room as a freshman?  Yeah, I’m pumped.    

This post doesn’t have some heartfelt meaning.  I’m not angrily blogging about how stupid my local political circle is, and I’m not sharing some sweet message I saw in an event that took place as I was going through my daily routine.  This is just me, excited for college, and unsure what to do for the next week.

marching band

You know what I hate?  People who disrespect other people, just because they do something else.  As a four-year veteran of high school marching band, this happens all the time.  Marching band has a social stigma about it where the people in it are considered “geeks”.

You know what I have to say to the haters?  You try it.  We work hard, harder than you could imagine.  We’re out there in August, learning drill and music.  Some of our members come to us having never played a band instrument before in their lives.  We welcome them in, and we show them the ropes.  We teach freshmen and seniors alike.  It doesn’t matter to us, so long as you have a love of music.  And we work so hard; I have seen people reduced to tears over frustration.  These people turn into marching machines by the end of the season, having overcome so many obstacles.  We work hard-have you ever had to jazz run at 220 bpm while doing a chromatic run?  I did it as a freshman.  So don’t even tell me we don’t work hard. 

Band is a family, cheesy as it is.  The band room has become a second home to me over the years and many ensembles, as it’s felt as if I’ve been there during the week more than I have been at my own home.  There’s always someone there and there’s always some form of action going on.  These band kids dedicate their lives; I haven’t had a free Saturday in years.  We bond over the long days, and even longer nights.  We bond at hot football games, at cold football games.  We bond over the God awful polyester monkey suits we wear several times a week.  We bond over our hate of white pants and parade music.  By the end of the season, nearly everyone is in tears because it’s over.  Sections bond, grades bond, everyone bonds.  Maybe that’s why some people think we’re like a cult.  Because we’re so dedicated to each other.  Maybe they don’t know what it’s like to constantly have five people who have your back, or five people who would take a bullet for them.  But I do.  We stick together, because sometimes, it’s all we have.  We may not be the winningest or the best, but when you’re hurt and it’s your senior night, there will be a group of people willing to carry you onto the field so you can be recognized.   It is the greatest feeling in the world, knowing that I can walk in and automatically find someone I’m friends with.  Every year, the cycle starts again, with new freshmen replacing the graduated seniors. 

I have never hated marching band.  I may have been frustrated or upset, but I never hated it.  I could have gone many directions as an incoming freshman-I could have gone into drama or stuck with soccer, but I chose band.  And I am so glad I did.  If I had to make the choice over again, I know what I would pick.  And for those of you that jeer us and boo us?  We don’t care.  We have each other, we have our music, and we have our memories.  So understand that you aren’t the cool ones in this situation.  We are.