Disclaimer: I don't own my band or my band directors.
Author's Note: The inspiration for this struck me after a particularly bad competition that could have meant the difference between us going to state finals and us sitting home on Saturday, November 5th.
The Meaning of One
By Bressa W.
In order to be dismissed, our band must shout "One!" as a group, and it must be loud. The first time we were introduced to the concept of One, I thought (Sazz forgive me) that it was incredibly dorky. I hardly voiced the word at all. It wasn't worth embarrassing myself. I didn't want to be One with everybody in band.
That was in 8th grade, when my middle school was preparing to march at Cedar Point.
"Band! Dismissed!" Mr. Mc ordered.
"One," the band said weakly. We turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Mr. Mc said quietly. We stopped. No one feared Mc, but we respected him. No matter how an order was given, we followed him. "You marched as One today in rehearsal. You played as One, you stepped as One. Why stop being One now? Let's try that again." He clapped his hands. "Band! Ten-hut!"
We snapped to attention.
"Band! Dismissed!"
"One!" we shouted somewhat louder. Mc was satisfied, and we were dying. The band went inside and forgot about One for a year. For me, I forgot for two.
Most of my concert band joined marching band in their freshman year. I joined as a sophomore, and now I regret more and more every day about what I missed last year. I missed inside jokes, I missed band trips, competitions, everything. But most importantly, I missed what it felt like to be One.
One is in your very soul, One is when your band is focused on the same goal, One is when you don't miss one note and when you're never out of step. One is what makes you cry after every competition. One is every speech Mr. Mobley has ever made. The speech I recall best was one he made after a West Bloomfield competition—one about the Meaning of One.
"Circle up!" Mr. Mobes called. We did. Many of us—me included—had tears in our eyes. "Put one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of you." We did. The band became a web of instruments and arms. "How do you feel right now?" Tired, disappointed at our performance, frustrated with ourselves. "Do you feel proud?" No. "Why not? You didn't march a bad show. You didn't play a bad show. So why do you feel like it was a bad show?" No response. "I'll tell you why. It's because you weren't acting as One Band. That's the whole concept, the base of what we do here. You are to be One Band, One Sound, One Step, One Soul. You didn't." He paused, looked around for reaction. Whoever hadn't been crying before was crying now. He continued. "The sadness, the anger, the emotion of a not-perfect show can only be held onto for ten minutes. Then you have to let it go. Because on Monday, when we step on our field to rehearse, we are One. And we are going to make State Finals because each and every one of you has earned it. You are One, and it's a pity that one of the few times you weren't was at a competition. Now, are we going to States, or are we going to cry?" The band cheered for States and tears dried up. The energy, the drive, and the focus of the Warrior Marching Band at that point was greater than it had ever been. We were One.
And that; to be doing what you love with all of the people you love, the feel the camaraderie flowing through your band; is the Meaning of One.
End Note: Was it okay? Should I write more fics like this, or should I crawl in a hole and die? However you feel, please put it in a review. Even if you flame, I'll appreciate it. I'll cry, but I'll appreciate it.