A band that's got it

Last night I saw a band that's got it, and I mean, got it goin' ON.

I went with the former band director of the aforementioned program to a special chili supper and field show performance last night, and got to see what they do.

We sat high in the stands so we could see, even though there was a cold breeze blowing. First, their middle school band performed. About eighty kiddoes, all different sizes, in white jackets and black trousers setting up their show. They marched onto the field very well; they didn't move much while they were playing but did a fine job playing their music and staying in formation.

My initial thought was, "how the heck do you get all those junior high kids to stand still?" I'll call the band director who invited me Tom, even though that's not his real name, just so I can keep the privacy intact in this blog, and it really doesn't matter anyway. Tom said to me, "look at that one kid wearing white sneakers instead of black shoes, and the girl not holding her flute up straight. I wouldn't have let them march."

I hadn't noticed them up to that point, and it made me realize that Tom knew marching and field shows the way I know--well, the way my husband knows basketball. After thirty years, Tom ought to. He notices the tiny things that an inexpert such as me would not.

"It's about pride," he said, kind of offhandedly, but man, did that sink in to my skull. Pride.

Pride.

Next came the high school band, and this is what really blew me away. Every single girl and guy in the band did their job, perfectly. The music was quite difficult, selections from Jesus Christ Superstar (I've actually played all of it, as a pit orchestra member for a theater production, and the only point of saying so is that I really do know it's hard) but it was more than that. The way they moved their bodies as they stepped, but kept their instruments pointed front. The fact that every single member had their uniform on straight and the shoes were clean, and the gloves were white.

What impressed me most (again, this is a little rural high school we're talking about) was the drum major, representing the band, took delightful pride in who he was as an entertainer, and when the command came to snap the instruments to play, it was as one movement. No one was late, no one was sloppy.

I'd already seen the zillions of banners in the band room that said "State Championships, Finalist" on them.

At that point I began to get a little panicky in my gut. I thought of my fledgling program, where we're still working on basic skills of playing, much less marching, with virtually no high school kids to speak of. I thought of the kids talking their way through rehearsal and thinking band class ought to be "free time". I thought of my inexperience, both with teaching, and with knowing the things I need to know, that I have no idea that I need to know, such as buying three of the exact same tubas so they're always in tune.

Then I started thinking about where I started, and the progress I've been making, just this week, implementing the breathing exercises that I've been learning how to do at grown-up band. (J, if you're reading this, thank you, it's really doing wonders for their discipline and intonation.)

At the end of the evening Tom and I were talking about the sacrifices he made to keep his program going. He basically didn't get to see his kids grow up.

That was a sobering thought, considering I have kids who are just at the very beginning of their growing-up process, and I want to see them grow all the way up.

Seeing those field shows made me think about the baby steps I could start with. It made me realize that yes, in fact, I do believe I'm on the right track. It made me realize how much easier it is to develop a band program when one does not have a newborn.

It made me think about pride.

And we're going to start talking about pride a lot in our band. Yes, a lot. And I want our t-shirts to say PRIDE on them.

There's nothing I didn't see last night that we couldn't do if we chose to, and nothing I can't learn.

And now I'm realizing that my little program does have it. All the potential in the world.