In this 'chapter', I guess I'll tell you all the story of how I became a band geek.
It all started in 5th grade, when tryouts for band starts at my school system. I thought being in band would be cool, so I could tell people, 'Hey, I can play an instrument!' or stuff like that. My older sister, who was a grade older than me, was in percussion and an absolute prodigy even then (she was a bass drum on drum line as a freshman and is now a snare if that tells you anything). I didn't know what I wanted to play, but I wanted to be in band, so when the open house at the middle school came up, I was all for it.
I tried clarinet first, because it seemed unique. Mr. G, the woodwind teacher and director at the high school, was an old and intimidating man for a kid my age (he definitely doesn't seem like that now). He held a clarinet in front of me and told me to blow really hard into it. I did, and almost laughed as he fingered the tune of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' as I about busted a lung. As he finished, I asked him if I could try oboe. 'No, it's too hard.' was is simple response.
I then went into the brass room, not even bothering with the percussion. I stood in a line, looking at all the brass instruments laid out. Some I didn't even know the name of. When it was my turn, I asked Mr. K, the brass teacher, to try trumpet. It was small and seemed cool and versatile. He handed me one, and told me to buzz my lips and blow. I did, and it sounded like a dying donkey if I remember correctly. I couldn't get my mouth tight enough. Thinking, Mr. K takes the trumpet and gives me a tuba. A TUBA. He gave me the same instructions, and I made a semi-decent sound. He nodded and told me that it was impressive. Later, as I waited in line to sign up for my instrument, I was torn between clarinet and tuba. My mind told me clarinet, and that it would be easier, but my heart told me otherwise. I chose tuba. Now let me tell you, if I had known what I was getting myself into, I might have made that choice.
The first semester as a 6th grader began, and I was okay, not great, but okay. Mr. K told me I should take lessons. At my school, high schoolers could sign up to teach the younger kids their instrument (for some money of course ;) ). It was proved that students who took lessons were surprisingly better at playing after getting instruction from these high school kids. As I came to the high school one afternoon, I heard a symphony of different instruments echoing down the band hallway. I chose a tuba from the pile of beat-up cases, and I went to the practice room, where my peer teacher would be waiting.
My teacher was named Bradley, a freshman, but one of the best tubas they had. I was hesitant, but his quirky personality and overall skill he showed motivated me to try harder and practice longer. He became my role model, and is to this day. After taking these lessons, Mr. K immediately noticed a change in me. I could actually play. Fast forward to my 8th grade year, and I was first chair in the section. Mr. K called me a prodigy. I was taking Group I solos and got into the Jr. All-State Band. But then, (dun dun dun) came marching band.
At my school, you begin marching band practice the summer after your 8th grade year. I was nervous to say the least. I was the only freshman tuba going marching band. Oh, and I WAS A GIRL. My older sister pleaded with me to switch to baritone or anything else because she knew how heavy tubas were. She didn't think I could handle it. And I didn't either.
There were five tubas at the time. Nick, Alec, and Bradley were the seniors, Taylor was a sophomore, and Collin (a junior) was originally a mellophone but switched for this year. Nick was (and I'm not trying to be mean here) a tuba with a trumpet ego. He was loving how he was a senior and could boss people around. Alec was odd and intimidating, and liked to scare the freshmen. And Bradley...what can I say? He was amazingly talented, excelling in everything he put effort into. And he was modest, stating he didn't think he was as good as people said he was. He was the section leader, hands down. I didn't know Taylor very well; he was quiet and didn't talk to me much, but was good friends with Bradley. The two of them were like peas and carrots (to quote Forrest Gump). Collin didn't know much about being a tuba, that's all I can say.
Band camp was tough. I struggled under the weight of my tuba, even though it was a small one because I was a freshman. It took me a while to grasp the concept of marching. I was constantly monitered by Mrs. P (we literally call her that). She was a hardcore band mom that was a tuba herself in high school, and now watches over the tubas. I was like a younger version of her, and she pushed me the hardest to be perfect like Bradley. As the week went on, it became easier, but still was a lot of work. I had never imagined how much went into a marching band show. I owe my survival of band camp to my tuba section, who were a huge help in lifting my spirits went things got tough, and the support of my freshman friends who struggled with me.
The pressure on our band that year was intense. The year before, they had narrowly won the state competion for the first time in 40 years, and the town was craving a second win. You could see it in our instructor's eyes that they wanted another victory badly. That show had been titled 'Trinity' and had some religous-themed songs in it. This year, our show was called 'Angelic Voices' or 'Waking Angels', or something along those lines. Mr. G could never make up his mind about what it was called. It was pretty much a sequel to Trinity, and everyone knew it. A common phrase that Mr. G said a lot was that "It's not a religous show" but we all knew it was.
The thing that most people don't realize about marching band is how competitive it can be. Our biggest rivals were some of the northern bands, who were larger (some had 200+ members) and could fill up a statium easily. But our band had highly skilled members who could outshine the larger bands because of the difficult music we were capable of doing. We were the underdogs, but because of last year, we were a force to be recended with.
The pre-season contests went well, and we did okay against the bands in our region, which were not as big as the ones in the north. We had contests where there were downpours of rain, cancelations because of lightning, mudbaths on the field, and anything else you could think of. But marching band people are survivors, and don't give up. We usually made it to state every year, but there were doubts if we could make it all the way this year. We passed with flying colors, winning 1st and all the other awards. We were encouraged by this. Maybe we could win again.
State is one of the most nerve-wracking contests in the season. All of the work that you went through the past 5 or so months came down to this. As we slipped on our uniforms in the parking lot of the statium, the tubas met in our little circle. Bradley told us that we definitely had a chance to win. He ended with his signature tuba statement: "Don't **** up." They spat in the center of the circle (even me), and we headed inside the statium to get ready. Let me tell you, the feeling of walking out on the statium floor is like nothing else. The crowds of people, the cheering of our fans, and the feeling of fresh astroturf under your feet was an invigorating feeling.
Our show was amazing, the best we'd ever done. As we walked off, we smiled knowing that we had done our best. But was that good enough for our judges? It all came down to their opinion. All of the bands stood on the field as the awards ceramony started. We all held hands as the 10th, 9th, 8th awards were given. Our season had been great, our members were talented, and I prayed with all of my might that we would win.
But life does not have storybook endings. We got 4th place, losing to our northern rivals by a huge margin. We might never know why we won semi-state but lost state, but one thing is for sure: marching band has been one of the greatest experiences of my life, and I look forward to coming back as a sophomore to get some revenge.
Anyway, that was marching band this year. In the off-season, we work on solo and ensemble pieces, and other concert band stuff. My solo this year is not extremely hard, but goes up to a high G in the bass clef, which I have never attempted before until now. Mr. K really believes that I can be the next Bradley, who is sadly graduating this year, along with Nick and Alec, which brings the tuba count for marching band next year to shrink from six to two (Colin said he probably won't join next year so he can focus on other classes), me and Taylor. The future of the tubas is bleak, to say the least.
Okay, I think that is all concerning me and my band experiences. I'll update you on any new developments in my career, and I'll see you all later!