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.

love for a child

Yesterday I spent the day with my niece.  She’s nearly two, with bright hazel eyes and wild curls.  In my own personal opinion, she’s the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen.  But every aunt says that about their niece or nephew.

I love watching her for many reasons.  My top reason is that I just love to watch her.  It is fascinating to watch her learn how to grip a crayon, say the alphabet, or learn how to say ‘thank you’.  I’m watching the human brain work, and it’s incredible. 

It’s difficult to describe the look of wonder and amazement on her face whenever she figures out how to do something (such as yesterday, figuring out how to open the text message feature of my phone after figuring out how to get my phone out of my bag).  She loves doing puzzles and reading books.  She’s very scientific and methodical, which makes me think that maybe she could become a surgeon or a lawyer when she’s older.

My niece loves to run and play, and yesterday was no exception.  Her favorite game involves jumping on my stomach when I’m not expecting it.  She loves it.  I’m impartial.  When watching TV, she holds herself in a constant tightened state.  She’s got rock hard abs.  It’s almost disgusting.  She loves to move around, which makes me think she could become an athlete or a dancer.

She is also drawn to music.  Drums in particular.  While my sister made dinner, we pulled out some pots and pans and had a drum off.  I like to think my sister enjoyed it, because I certainly did.  For a two-year old, she’s got some decent rhythm.  She can repeat basic rudiments after I play them.  Her fingers are long and narrow like a piano player’s.  She likes jazz and my trumpet (although that may be because it’s shiny).  She may be the next musician in the family.

She has a lot of potential.  She has a lot of talents and skills that I don’t know about, but we’ll all discover as she grows up.  I don’t know what she’ll end up as, but she’ll know that her aunt will be proud and love her no matter what.