I never thought I'd say such a thing, but I do. I joined band in 6th grade after being pressured by my dad, who was also a percussionist in high school, and I was instantly motivated to someday outdo him. I auditioned for All-District Band but never made it, once because my band director actually gave me the previous year's audition music (how does that even HAPPEN?!) and the other times because I was so nervous I went to tears before I so much as played a scale. Nevertheless, almost all of my friends were in band, and I did have fun at BandFest and trips to amusement parks and All-County band, so I decided to stick with it. I participated in marching band my freshman year of high school, and it was a whole different world.
For the first time in my music career I was constantly challenged, and I was surrounded by people who were passionate about band and wanted to compete with me. I was only in the pit, which was a huge disappointment to both my dad and me. Looking back, I realize that the pit is vital to the band as well, but at that point I thought that only the drumline mattered. That was the only part of the band people really talked about, after all. It didn't matter to me that I was competing against 6 seniors, 1 junior, and 1 sophomore to earn a spot on the 10-person line, I did nothing but beat myself up for "failing" the entire season.
Now as everyone who participates in marching band knows, it takes up a ton of time. An entire month (if not more) of summer for band camp, 2 or 3 after-school rehearsals per week, football games every Friday, and competitions almost every Saturday. Plus individual practice time, which I do a lot of. Marching band took a toll on my grades, my opportunities to go to karate (at the time I was still training to test for my Black Belt) and my friendships with my non-marching band friends. Granted, there weren't many of them, but it was rough.
I never got bored with our show, Fiddler on the Roof, but I was never really as into it as some of my other friends were, either because I'd never seen the musical or because I never felt like a part of the band. I was never as outgoing and open as everyone else, and I was afraid of our unreliable and unfocused percussion instructor. Being in the pit also alienated me from the band, because we had to leave the rest of the group during competitions to move equipment. Everyone else is always said "oh whatever they don't have to march they don't work as hard" and the drum majors would sneer down at us from their podiums and tease us, which at the time I didn't take as a joke. I already thought I'd failed, and then I thought my own drum majors and pit captain thought I was a horrible player.
On top of all that, our spring trip to Disney World and Universal Studios bought out the worst in people. There was vandalism, catfights, drama, sneaking out of the hotel, harassment, creepy weirdness, and general homesickness. I came home and avoided the band room at all costs for weeks. I was afraid of the people who I thought were my friends. Despite that, I was more afraid of disappointing my dad again, so I auditioned for drumline even though I hated everything about marching band.
Results came out, and I was assigned to baby bass. I literally got yelled at, and I felt like a failure. Everyone in the percussion section congratulated me and told me it was a good thing, because they "needed someone who could actually count" on the bassline. But I was too disappointed, and I was still afraid. It just wasn't worth it to me, and most of the people who I actually liked in band were graduating. I called up to the school in the middle of July and told my band director I quit. Naturally I received a lot of flak for it, but eventually people accepted that it was my choice and left me alone. I was still in the Wind Ensemble after all, and enjoying quite a bit of success.
Every year around April people would come to me and try to convince me to audition one more time. This year, after making so many new friends in band and having a wonderful time on spring trip to Philadelphia, I was seriously considering it. It will be my senior year, and I figured this was my last chance to make my dad proud. When it was announced that we would be marching a Billy Joel Show, my mind was made up. I auditioned and got my wish: snare.
I got really motivated, really fast. One of my best friends took me to see the 2012 Drum Corps International preview show in theaters, and I was instantly addicted. Can you believe that I'd never seen drum corps before? It blew my mind. I went home and looked up videos of the bands on Youtube almost all night, picked a favorite (Phantom Regiment, mainly because their center snare is a girl), and thought to myself, "I want to learn how to do that." I practiced all the time, trying to speed up my rudiments and clean up my rolls.
At first I had a hard time; I've never liked playing any sort of snare drum because for some reason my left hand it really wimpy and weak. I showed up to percussion camp in the first few weeks of summer after being all pumped about learning hybrid rudiments and such, and man did I get my butt kicked. I went home every day upset and mad at myself with sore hands and arms, and I'd stand right here in this basement where I am blogging and practice for more hours, trying to make my feet mark time and make my hands play so I wouldn't embarrass myself again. I was having a hard time with some family problems and a breakup, and I just felt like I'd never win. I finished the week fully aware of the weak player I was, but having learned loads. I hated the camp, and I was so glad to have a week to spend away from percussion at the river.
Now I'm back home, and I could kick myself. Why did I hate it? It was an excellent distraction, and an excellent opportunity. I didn't realize until now how much I really took away from that week. I miss it so much, I have nothing to do but stand in this basement with my laptop and drumpad, alternating between playing, blogging, and tumblring. I miss the soreness in my arms and hands, and the bright orange earplugs protecting my ability to hear. I miss being amazed by our new drum instructor, who can triplet-roll like there's no tomorrow. I miss making up stupid nicknames for each other and trying to learn how to march after lunch and wearing sunglasses even though we were inside. I miss being kicked out of various hallways and classrooms because the floors were being waxed and ending up drumming on a table on our stage until the paint started popping off (which kinda stinks cuz it's the theater's table so I'll be the one to repaint it in the fall). I miss hauling equipment around and being soooooo thankful that I'm not in the pit again. I miss listening to Waddyissoawkward and Finn13 talk about Adventure Time and Avatar the Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra all the time, even though I'm nowhere near as obsessed as they are haha. And most of all I miss learning stuff and having a hard time and conquering the music and occasionally getting an approving glance or a compliment. I missed the sectional last week, and I'm so disappointed. I just want somebody to drum with. I can't wait to go back. <3