“Drum majors is your band ready?” The announcer questioned as we finally settled into our places. Our drum majors nodded, and gave each other their signal that they were ready. We got into our starting positions, and began our show. It went smoothly the whole time. I didn’t think any band members made any errors. All I could think about was how itchy my uniform was. We left the field to watch other bands perform their last shows. Alayna and I sat down next to Dreyton and patiently waited for all the bands. She tried to tell some band jokes, but messed up the punch line. After a few shows pass Alayna and Dreyton are already bantering like the siblings they are. “Stop being rude Alayna, be the bigger person.” I scold her. ‘I’m 5’3” I …show more content…
can’t be the bigger person.” She quips back at me. North Side Christian High was staring us down in the middle of the field. It looked a bit awkward to anyone who doesn’t know that our bands are enemies. I adverted my eyes from them, so I wouldn’t create more tension. The field was full of a couple thousand people. The voices blended together and create one loud ensemble. Mr. Reynolds stretched out his neck slightly to see over the giant sitting in front of him. “Would you like to switch seats shorty?” I laughed as I stared at his small patches of grey hair.
I heard someone clear their throat on stage. All eyes were glued on the man. “Good evening ladies and gentleman; I’m proud to announce that Santa Fe High, Gainesville High, Nease High, North Side Christian, and Newberry High are all going to State Finals!” The announcer exclaimed. I sit in shock as our band jumped to their feet screaming. I remembered how many times Mr. Reynolds told us we weren’t good enough. 132. I remembered stepping on the scale one morning, and noticing that I lost twenty pounds throughout the season. Going over the same show dozens, even hundreds of times. Me having to run a mile every day. The heat beating down my back. Raining in the middle of practice, but our director ignoring it. Sun blisters. Having to eat properly. My sister being drum major, and telling me I messed up and that I don’t deserve to wear the uniform. I remember telling myself I wanted to quit mid season. Yet, I also remembered how good it felt being able to run a mile. While the person I hated is barely breathing. Nailing my solo, or any part that is considered hard. I remembered how much I love my sock tan. How fun competitions were. This band; although they might be dysfunctional, is my family. I’m proud that I didn’t give
up. “As you all know this is my last year before I retire.” Mr. Reynolds motions us towards him. “You made this possible. You guys worked day in and day out. Every one of you practiced for ten hours plus a week. You had so many people telling you that you couldn’t do it. Yet, here we are, you did it. I am immensely grateful for you guys. I’m so proud of all of you for achieving this.” I could see Alayna tearing up beside me. Mr. Reynolds has never told us he was proud of us all season. The drum majors popped open champagne to celebrate before our long trip home. When I woke up late at 3:47 am this morning; I would have never thought that we would be going home as state finalists. Let alone known how great it feels to achieve something I’ve been working so hard for. We had our good times and our bad. Like any other passion we had to endure the pain for the pleasure. I’m happy I didn’t leave. I got to experience this amazing victory with people I love, and I get to experience it over and over again for the next three years. With all our hard work this defiantly won’t be the last time they call our names.
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.
My older sister loved the marching band, so I always got dragged to their performances. I could not tell what was so appealing about it all; it consisted of walking on a field while playing instruments and flags being swung in the air. Participating in a marching band was never what I intended nor wanted to do. The idea bored me, but my mom insisted.
Looking around and seeing bright lights and feeling all eyes on you. Hearing both sides of the stadium cheer and shout for their teams and getting nervous during the last few seconds of the second quarter and at the same time being very proud of what the band has accomplished in the brief amount of time it took to learn the pretty intense and complex drill. Then suddenly you get the adrenaline rush that pushes you to perform. Many people would agree that being a drum major is one of the most eminent positions that is held by students who are Being the Drum Major of any band shows that you have the respect and trust of the members of the band and it’s directors. It also shows that you are passionate about what you do, responsible and that
One of the biggest decisions of my high school career came my sophomore year when I decided to try out for the role of drum major in my high school band. This decision was very tough to make due to the fact that I was a sophomore, and although I already had three years of experience under my belt as a band member at Northview High School, I knew that it would be very tough to earn the respect of my peers if I succeeded in becoming drum major. Out of the three years I had spent in the band, the biggest influence on my decision to try out came from my very first marching season, between August and December of 2012. From that year forward, after seeing many areas that the band could improve, watching how underclassmen and middle school band members
In the year 2011, Rigby High School’s Concert Band was coming to the close of another great concert. They were getting to a very dramatic part of the song Ave Maria, and during a break in the melodies, a sharp baby cry was heard throughout the auditorium, followed by a loud yell from a parent. The rest of the concert was a disaster, with conversation and talking heard in the recording. In fact, Rigby has not once gotten a clean recording without conversation and noises in the concerts. People unfortunately do not understand how to behave during concerts of any type. With some concerts and performances, it is ok to vocalize, but concert band is not one of them. To help explain this, concert band will be compared to jazz band in its origins, type, and expectations to show why this type of behavior is unacceptable.
It is about who I am off the podium. For the past five years (I marched up as an 8th grader), I have been proving something to these people, so that they trust me in this position. The character of drum major or leader is one I have been perfecting since I was a freshman. For a long time I was just an actor trying to be a character. Eventually, I had acted the part so much that I became it, and it was my role. I give respect to receive it. I build real relationships of with members to achieve trust, accountability, and effort. When people are torn up inside because of their home life, which is quite frequent in Lenoir City Tennessee, I am their shoulder to cry on, or a set of ears to vent to, or a buffer to dull their anger. When people are frustrated with me for some reason, I seek them out and learn what I can do different. When there are five flavors of gum stuck to the floor of the band room at 11:30 on a Friday night, I get on my knees with a plastic fork and start scraping. When the band director constantly yells at me for this that and the other, I take into account the criticisms and practice harder. The band and the director see this character I have transformed into, or maybe the one I have always been, and that is why I have the honor of standing on the podium and wearing the gloves. I have become the band’s teacher, nurse, cattle driver, answer dispenser, and friend. Somehow, those all add up to leader. I refuse to let them down, rather I lift them
If someone had asked me back in sixth grade what my passion was, marching band would not have ever even crossed my mind. First of all because there is no marching band in sixth grade. Second, when I got into band in sixth grade, I was the worst French horn player in my section. I knew absolutely nothing reading music or playing and although I was still just learning, I always thought I had no chance to get better and that I would quit, but I didn’t. I stayed in the band and my opinions changed my freshman year of high school.
Earlier on I had mentioned that I did not immediately consider myself for this position. One of the items that changed this is learning that the Drum Major is able to march with the band this coming year. I feel that by doing so, I would be viewed as a part of the band, and not just the kid on the podium. This is a very
A drummer’s main focus includes timing, rhythm, stick height, and tempo. When a band relies on you as a drummer to stay on time, these attributes become a must know. We walk in time, talk in time, breathe in time, and dream on time. Like other things in life, you don’t start off perfect. Drumming takes a lot of practice and time. So much that it can become hard to continue practicing, but like a language if you don’t use it, you will forget it. Percussion and drumming is amazing since it can fit into almost all genres. Also it is really up to the drummer how they want to build their set. We all have our style. Drums go way back to the earliest of mankind. Which makes sense
During the concert the pianist, drummer and saxophonist did a great job, making the rhythm unforgettable. One of the songs that was performed was "Wrapped around your fingers" it contained a romantic melody. While the piano and saxophone then alternated the rhythm, as the passion of the song was motivating everyone to fall into the rhythm of it. The melody which was steady seemed to get faster like a heartbeat by the climax of the song. The sounds were increasingly getting louder until all instruments met at the top with a ban...
During my sophomore year, I decided to try out for drum major. I wanted to hear my
I never really thought of actually doing a forgetting journal, but I knew it would be very interesting to do when I got in the class. Every day I find myself forgetting things. Often they are so simple that I pretty much go nuts because I can’t remember. On the first day, the first thing I forgot was the name of song. It wasn’t just any song; it was one of my favorite songs from the past. It was literally on the tip of my tongue and I couldn’t spit it out. So instead of just leaving it alone, I couldn’t just do anything else until I remember the song. I went as far as calling some of my friends to ask them do they remember me singing a particular song a lot. It was very n...
... to go to the upcoming competition, I decided that I would step in to be the voice of reason between the two groups. Although these two groups consisted of the majority of my friends and the conflict was about an issue that I obtained some knowledge about, I placed my friendships aside and refused to let my opinion sway me in the way that I felt would resolve the issue. I knew that letting this situation go on without turning it in would leave the band lacking, but I also knew that refusing to turn it in put me position in jeopardy. I made my decision based upon the band as a whole and that we would need our entire member to compete at the best of our abilities. My position as drum major did not really matter to me at the time of resolving the issue. It was then that I realized what my mother and father had been trying to instill in me for the last seventeen years.
When the final song was over and Jars of Clay was off the stage, the lights abruptly came on. Everyone started to leave the theatre. I still wanted to hear more of their music, but just as they had come out they then left in the same way. My adrenaline was still on a high point even as we got to our vehicles.
After the show had ended, I felt slightly empty. I had waited years and months for that night, and it was over in the blink of an eye. Although I was sad that the show was over, I felt completely content. Now, when I hear their songs, I get to remember what it felt like to hear the band perform them live. I can watch the videos and try to wrap my mind around how it was real. Going to my first concert was an unparalleled experience that I will always cherish. The ambiance, the band’s performance and the unity the audience