Over the summer, I was excited to be joining Symphonic, but I was also somewhat terrified. I would be the only new member of the alto section, and the only non-senior. I would also finally be directly next to Caitlyn Bell, the best saxophone player in the school. She was an amazing musician, and I had looked up to her since middle school. Although I was excited to play with someone so great, I was also worried that I would look horrible next to her. I had often been compared to her and in her shadow, so this was my chance to prove that I was just as good as she was. I also knew that my entire section had been together the previous year, and all were friends outside of band. I knew I would be the odd one out, and was desperate to win their approval.
It was the first day of my junior year, and when I went down to the band room, I was nervous for my first day in Symphonic. I took a seat on the end, next to Caitlyn, and got ready to play my first notes as a member of Symphonic. I started off on the wrong foot, however, when I misheard Baxter and played E flat instead of B flat. Great, my first note in Symphonic was wrong. However, as
…show more content…
Olson’s mom died, and he had a sub for nearly two weeks. This lead to many sectionals, where I learned the wrath of Syd H. Since the majority of sectional time was on choir days, our section leader, Caitlyn, was often not present. This led to a void in leadership that was quickly filled by Syd. Whenever someone made a mistake, I was the scapegoat. This also continued in band, since I now sat next to her. I was already nervous about being the only new person in my section and worried that I would be the worst one, and Syd’s constant criticism made me feel horrible about myself. I knew a lot of the mistakes were not mine, but being blamed for them made me lose a lot of the confidence I gained when I made Symphonic. Too scared of Syd to say these mistakes were not mine, I decided to try and ignore her and tough it
Sweat dripping down my face and butterflies fluttering around my stomach as if it was the Garden of Eden, I took in a deep breathe and asked myself: "Why am I so nervous? After all, it is just the most exciting day of my life." When the judges announced for the Parsippany Hills High School Marching Band to commence its show, my mind blanked out and I was on the verge of losing sanity. Giant's Stadium engulfed me, and as I pointed my instrument up to the judges' stand, I gathered my thoughts and placed my mouth into the ice-cold mouthpiece of the contrabass. "Ready or not," I beamed, "here comes the best show you will ever behold." There is no word to describe the feeling I obtain through music. However, there is no word to describe the pain I suffer through in order to be the best in the band either. When I switched my instrument to tuba from flute in seventh grade, little did I know the difference it would make in the four years of high school I was soon to experience. I joined marching band in ninth grade as my ongoing love for music waxed. When my instructor placed the 30 lb. sousaphone on my shoulder on the first day, I lost my balance and would have fallen had my friends not made the effort to catch me. During practices, I always attempted to ease the discomfort as the sousaphone cut through my collar bone, but eventually my shoulder started to agonize and bleed under the pressure. My endurance and my effort to play the best show without complaining about the weight paid off when I received the award for "Rookie of the Year." For the next three seasons of band practice, the ache and toil continued. Whenever the band had practice, followed by a football game and then a competition, my brain would blur from fatigue and my body would scream in agony. Nevertheless, I pointed my toes high in the air as I marched on, passionate about the activity. As a result, my band instructor saw my drive toward music and I was named Quartermaster for my junior year, being trusted with organizing, distributing, and collecting uniforms for all seventy-five members of the band. The responsibility was tremendous. It took a bulk of my time, but the sentiment of knowing that I was an important part of band made it all worthwhile.
Not only am I in the band, but I am an essential component to the success and well-being of my section. The clarinets never sounded better than when they were under the direction of Section Leader Sarah, whom they all loved and adored. Okay, that's a boldfaced lie. As a dedicated band member, I demand perfection, not only in my own performance, but also in the performance of others. I refuse to accept mediocrity from any section member. In my opinion, there is no excuse for not knowing music, ignoring instructions, or not knowing right from left. Sadly, this quirk of mine doesn't make me terribly popular among t...
The program ran this year at the New Smyrna Beach High School Barracuda Band this year could be summarized by one word: sound. The sounds produced by our ensemble during marching season had crowds across the state cheering us on, and earned an overall superior at our Marching Music Performance Assessment. The sounds during our concert season have been even more impressive, earning a straight superior at our District Six Concert Music Performance Assessment and sent thirteen performances to our state level Solo and Ensemble. This year the program was also sound, in the sense of it settling down. A previous year of bumpy roads and crash landings finally came to a smooth journey, and this was caused by many factors. Some of our more negative members left our ensemble, either via graduation or variance, other members came to terms with our situation and decided to battle for the band and no longer against it, and our leadership team for the 2013-2014 school year was much improved in comparison to our previous team.
When my mom asked if I wanted to see this year’s Lakeside musical, I honestly was a bit unwilling. It’s not that I didn’t want to support my two or three friends up on stage and in the crew; I just don’t have a very good track record with high school performances. I’m a critic: I have always been very critical of myself, and very critical of others. I unwittingly judge the actors onstage, and end up feeling guilty because I probably could have done no better. On top of this warped superiority/inferiority was the nature of the musical they were performing; all throughout third grade I had been obsessed with the movie-musical Hairspray. I knew all the songs, most of the lines, and wasn’t sure if anyone could top Queen Latifah. But I was mistaken.
When I was first elected as section leader in the TWCP Marching Band my junior year, I had a copious amount of hope in the people around me. Even though we did not share the same beliefs and interests, I felt that with my leadership position, I can still help those newer members thrive in band and make their time worthwhile. I was the first chair bassoonist in the top band and had placed well in multiple prestigious competitions, so I was confident in my abilities. This task was a relatively simple one for me. Always understanding of the younger students’ interests, I knew exactly how it felt to be in their position. Band was enjoyable for me, I lived for the competition
When I was four years old my father left home. Not only he changed neighborhood or town but he left the country. It may seem that I was too young to notice his absence, but the truth is that this changed my life completely. I was quite close to my father and even today I can remember the emptiness that I felt in my chest. At four years of age I did not realize that behind the story of his departure was one of the greatest life lessons that he taught me.
the teacher came up to me and asked did I want to try for the Junior Youth Orchestra. I was so excited and said
At the end of every school year, I looked forward to our annual Award 's Day Program. It was the best day ever. Moms and Dads took off work to come watch their kids get rewarded. My mom made Awards Day an even bigger deal; she bought balloons, gifts and pretty much the entire family with her. She was proud, and she had every right to be. I was a great student until I reached high school, and then something happened---Composition 1. My first day walking into Composition 1, I noticed a curly head person who wore a colorful bowtie. He looked funny to me, nerdy almost. He had a full coffee station
When coming to the first class of Form in Poetry, I admit I was a bit nervous, for I knew very little about poets, poetry, and poems, but I also was very ignorant because I did not believe there was a lot within a poem. Oh how naive I was. The further we pushed through the year I was enlightened with new types of ways to format a poem, different meters and beats, to an array of vocabulary words that I could not begin to define. I learned that not only if poetry and abstract art form, but it is a very particular and intellectual form of art that has the ability to morph into an infinite number of possibilities. With the genius poems of A.E. Stallings and Stanley Kunitz, I was able to expand my horizons away from
This season was only the second year that I had been in marching band, even though we did do parades in middle school. The year before, I was selected to be drum major of the upcoming marching season. I was excited to meet the challenge of getting back to the state championships. It was also nerve-racking because I felt if we didn't make it to state, it would be my fault. To be truthful, later on I experienced both sentiments from some of the most influential, heart-warming, absolutely awesome friends that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. This would be the year that our band would adopt its slogan, its mission statement: Band #1.
Ever since I was a small child, I have loved music. The strong, steady beats, the
But then came the dreaded moment when I was suppose to speak. Like everyone else, our counselor was expecting me to explain what landed me with the rest of the lot. And I told myself to keep it together, to be matter of fact and, to above all, not
Twas the night before Pre-MPA and all through the band room the band beaners scurried. We were filled with joy. We were filled with excitement. Pre-MPA was coming and we were ready. Pre-MPA is basically a show off event for all high school band members. Usually only the top ensembles attend. It is on rarity that you see a symphonic and a concert band from one school perform at Pre-MPA. To continue, we were on our way to FIU and of course we were intimidated by the band kids of the rich schools. To us they were: Gulf Coast High school, Barron High School, and Naples High School. They had the chance to wear all black, usually all conservative clothing. We wore our marching band uniforms. How intimidating is that?
My lip muscles were on fire everyday, and it wasn't because of spicy food. Leaving my middle school years, my self-confidence was LOW because of how inadequate I was compared to my fellow saxophone players in advanced band. High school then marched right along into our lives, providing anxiety, excitement, and more anxiety. There we battled out annually for Outstanding Band Member (I won it as a freshman, Emily won it as a sophomore and a junior, and we both won it as seniors) and kept our eyes glued to the John Philip Sousa Award, the most prestigious award a band member can receive. She participated in LVYO, Honor band, and All-state band. Knowing I could never be a part of those groups, I sought a different path and decided to join our high school's jazz band and become a part of the orchestra for the school's musicals. We both became leaders of the band and highest members of the band council at our senior year. She taught me to never cower in the sight of competition and showed me that we all truly do possess our own strengths. She developed an aptitude for music (which is why she will major in music) while I
Waves I am a raging inferno of emotions. When I feel, I feel every single part of whatever it may be, even the ones they might think to be most insignificant. When I am cold, it feels as if hell has frozen over Earth. When I am sad, I do not find an ounce of happiness in the whole world.