Because I can’t write anywhere but here… It’s not done, and I have more to add/edit, but I am just too tired right now. For a while, I considered not finishing this, but two very important people told me that they enjoyed it and thanked me for sharing. I want to finish it, and I will.
Have you ever experienced something magical? If I say “it”, have I conveyed the right meaning? Do you remember dropping your jaw, tripping over bright, neon-yellow fire hydrants, or found yourself in need of a change of pants over something that truly inspired awe inside of yourself? Was that “it” ever manifested by music?
Personally, this isn’t as true as you might assume. I appreciate and understand the music as well as anyone else, I can read proficiently, I play well, and I can comprehend meaning inside notes. There are many other people in our band that are solely focused on one thing alone: a product. Like any good product, it sells if crafted and advertised well, and of course it’ll get the job done. As important as that is to everyone, only thinking about this is largely missing the point of our true success. The process and the connections that form during this journey are the real treasure. You can worry about tone production, and I’ll worry about learning every name; you can teach meaningful marching technique, but I’d rather inform on the purpose of friendship mail. Music is never last in my list of priorities, but learning not to be awkward in a brand new group, section of of people is so much more difficult than learning a few sixteenth-note runs, or block chords.
Maybe the fact that I don’t march has dissuaded me from the feeling of “it” in a performance, or maybe I just don’t geek out over a marching band show that quite honestly, most of the world does not care about. For that lack, though, I have found” “it” in another place. Band is the type of community that works well for its people, a cult, even. Because it demands our full support, commitment, and respect, it gives us our full share of return. We thrive on this, and it’s why we’re successful. It is neither an intrusive extra, nor something we idly toss away. For the brief months we have inside it, we’re safe as a part of a whole, something bigger than the ourselves. Apart from the culture of our world, not much matters; we’re safe. These feelings and successes are by no means unique to the band, but it’s the place I’ve found and the you’ve found.
I will never forget the incredible lump of dread that was in my stomach my first band camp; I nearly quit, twice. Likewise, I’ll never forget the lack of showers last– and this year! Oppositely, I will never forget my very first friend from my freshman camp at NAU, nor the boxes of friendship mail I now have. The pride of a show well done is immense, the accomplishment in learning a new section of music is invigorating, but having over a hundred friends every year, that all go through the same thing, that all care about one unique goal of unity is unparalleled.
For some reason or another, though, I can’t seem to shake this nebulous feeling of disease and disillusionment. For some reason, some part of us seems damaged. We’re broken, and we all really know what happened. Even though we’re all usually around, something has been been misplaced. I miss us. We hang out with each not because we’re friends, but because it’s all we know how to do. We lie; we betray the deepest letters and thoughts to strangers. We are fake.
I’m not sure that it will matter by the end of this, for you might already be sleeping. I hope you realize that the most important thing about band is the collection the people you are sitting with right now. What will come, will come. We will either win or lose this next competition, but our friendship and unity will perpetuate and inspire us to bounce back, learn, and try again. By the end this thing, you will have lied to these people around though. I promise you, we will fight, maybe even throw rocks or punches. Some of you will date, and of course break up. And some of us, well, some of just give up because things get a little tough. I cannot stress enough the importance of these friendships though, and how fleeting they can be if you aren’t careful. There’s a reason we are good at what we do, and it isn’t because of the staff, the music, or our equipment. Our success is bases solely on the condition of morale in our community. As I’ve said, we might have lost track of our friends.
Something about the community inside this program transcends anything taught in schools, inside books, or with your parents. You should realize, by this point, that this knowledge is knowing that you’re part of something, that you’re not alone. Trust your knowledge, and protect it at all costs. It is the most important thing that is, can be, and ever will be. I hope we win, I hope we bring home something wonderful trophy. I hope we get nice, new instruments. I hope things work their way out. I hope for a lot things, but more than anything, I hope you remember what makes us so successful. Remember that I am, because you are.
I have to ask you a question. It’s a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can’t seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?
Never.
Ice skating is pretty much the most exciting thing I’ve done so far this break. I’m glad the things that came up didn’t really ruin my break as much as I thought they might. I really like to ice skate.
I am just like you, I know you know. I am just like you so leave me alone.
I can buy your food, I can pick you up, I can help you with a newsletter, your computer, and yet it’s not okay for me to just spend lunch with you? And then, you call me. What the fuck– that’s all there is to it. We are pathetic, the lot of us. We aren’t friends anymore, but we stay around each other, hanging out in little groups. Why? because it’s all we know; we don’t know any better. There aren’t excuses, and this didn’t just “have to happen”. I just don’t know what to do, I am really this upset.
