Marching Band Diversity
In my small town of Centre, Alabama, I had no pride. I did not think our school had amazing programs or good representatives at events. All this changed when I joined the high school marching band. We practiced hard and worked without stopping. I soon realized that Cherokee County has pride in at least one program: it’s marching band. The building for our band stands beside the football field, the spectacle of the campus. The expansive field eclipses the tiny block home of music, yet the band room shines just as brightly for those who understand its value. The brick exterior wears a coat of dingy white paint with the words “CCHS Marching Band” painted in school colors. Behind the flat building lies a field with small lines and, often, soccer
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The rooms contain past and present items from the band such as flags or old drums. One room, though, stands out from the others. The room where we keep the old uniforms. When walking in, the first greeting received is the smell of old uniforms and smelly feet. Others may find it disgusting, but I find it comforting and welcoming. The rack that runs across the wall holds bags at one end and the uniforms at the other. The uniforms hang neatly and sparkle when the light beams off them. They look like someone is already wearing them. They contain the sweat of 14 years of band students working in the hot sun, or the freezing cold. Either the way, this room is a symbol. The room contains more than jackets, but the honor of the those before us.
All these rooms mean something to me. But the people outside of them mean more. A band is not just the instruments or uniforms, it is also the family that makes up the body on the field. I get this feeling by the way people greet one another when walking in. Working hard and trying is my style and they fit the profile. When someone walks in that building that's what they become. They become our family.
The band room can change people. The band life can change people. I have seen this happen. The building is not only a storage area, but a home to me. I enjoy the old, elegant floors and the tile ceiling. I have made a home there. And all of this is because I choose to walk
The rooms contain past and present items from the band such as flags or old drums. One room, though, stands out from the others. The room where we keep the old uniforms. When walking in, the first greeting received is the smell of old uniforms and smelly feet. Others may find it disgusting, but I find it comforting and welcoming. The rack that runs across the wall holds bags at one end and the uniforms at the other. The uniforms hang neatly and sparkle when the light beams off them. They look like someone is already wearing them. They contain the sweat of 14 years of band students working in the hot sun, or the freezing cold. Either the way, this room is a symbol. The room contains more than jackets, but the honor of the those before us.
All these rooms mean something to me. But the people outside of them mean more. A band is not just the instruments or uniforms, it is also the family that makes up the body on the field. I get this feeling by the way people greet one another when walking in. Working hard and trying is my style and they fit the profile. When someone walks in that building that's what they become. They become our family.
The band room can change people. The band life can change people. I have seen this happen. The building is not only a storage area, but a home to me. I enjoy the old, elegant floors and the tile ceiling. I have made a home there. And all of this is because I choose to walk