(no subject)
When I was 14 years old my first taste of what high school would be like was in my first days of Band Camp in the week before school started. It was that week when I learned where all my classes would be, when I was forewarned that there was no swimming pool on the 3rd floor, and when I was claimed by a Junior flute player (quite literally--I can remember Sonja looking at me and saying "You're mine") to be mentored throughout the next two years. I learned my place in the pack--as freshmen we were instructed by our director that the only words he was to hear out of our mouths were, "Yes sir," "No sir," or "I don't know sir, I will find out sir." Mistakes were dealt with military-style; breaking attention was worth 5 push-ups. And by the first day of class, I already knew where I belonged--at the end of E-wing, last room on the right.
In October, this band had the audacity to "request" that we attend an event on the weekend (veteran members, however, made it clear that missing it would be the biggest mistake you could make). The idea of waking up at 6am to drive to school and ride a smelly bus for an hour was deterring enough, but to top it off it was on my birthday. Whether through peer pressure or faith in my superiors I can't recall, but at the end I decided that I would indeed attend Band Day 1999.
We arrived at UMass that cool, foggy morning armed with music from the Beach Boys, and I was still curious as to how exactly we were supposed to learn an entire drill in one morning (of course, at this point I was envisioning that we would be moving chart by chart making full-out formations). Soon I realized that this crazy ensemble was made of something very special at the core. Our bus was boarded by a pair of crazy-sounding college guys with what seemed like strings tied around their foreheads, and their level of enthusiasm both confused and intrigued me. "These must be the kids who really like band," I thought. Then throughout the day I seemed to encounter a lot of those. It seemed everyone with the maroon jackets and black sashes had this strange, Disney-like aura emanating from them--as if the only option was to fully enjoy every minute of every day.
By halftime, I thought I was prepared for what would occur. We would meet in one quadrant of the stadium, file in, and on measure 14 I would step off the back sideline to form a giant mass on the field. But I wasn't nearly prepared for how the show really went. I counted, I stepped, I stopped...but when the entirety of the high school cohort united with the UMass bandos in progress, I was overwhelmed with the sheer power and emotion that can only be experienced when you are one piece of a 1300 person machine; a machine which at its core was powered by the most densely-packed energetic combustion chamber that could possibly fit into a fairly small-statured redish-haired man.
At post-game (which I would recount as "a special show they did just for us high-school kids"), I watched as UMass took the field and so fluidly commanded our attention and our accolades as they performed themes from Zorro and created a giant Z on the field. By the bus ride home, I found myself thinking, "Wow, I would go to this college just to be in that band."
Later that year our band director left us and was replaced by a fresh UMass graduate, well schooled in the ways of GNP. She brought to us a style and sense of pride that was unprecedented, and not highly welcomed by the older members. She introduced us to the Multibands Pops performance, and scored us seats *right next to* the UMMB at Band Day the next year. By the end of sophomore year, I knew I wanted to be a band director.
In my senior year I was appointed as Drum Major of the band, and to be trained I went to what I had heard was the *only* place suitable for training--the UMass Drum Major Academy. This was my first experience attending a camp away from home, but despite only knowing one person there I was immediately given the sense that I was among family. We trained intensely for 5 days, giving me a sense of pride, accomplishment, strength, and resolve that would at times seem fanciful to those on the outside. And from then on out I had an amazing sense of identity that I would carry forever--for a drum major is always on stage.
When I applied to colleges that fall many of them wanted to hear about an event which had a strong impact on my life. The opening words of each essay I wrote began with a question: "How are your feet?"
Coming to UMass' band camp was one of the most highly anticipated events of my life. Having been to DMA I felt that I knew what I was in store for--and in fact, I found myself to be rather well-prepared for the strenuousness of the week. What I wasn't prepared for was how much the marching band would become a unique and integral part of my existence at school. No matter what was going on in my day, my mind was cleared and focused from 4:40-6:20. Nothing prior nor since has had that kind of influence on my brain. The band brought me to places I had never seen before--but I never felt like I was in a foreign place. Each time the King Ward buses opened their doors, a little piece of home spilled out and surrounded me wherever we went.
Joining the UMMB led me to do something no one ever would have thought I'd consider, yet turned out to be one of the best choices I've ever made. Serving through Tau Beta Sigma was a life-altering event, and brought me a level of friendship and camaraderie I would have never dreamed possible.
Being in a band was the single greatest thing I have ever done in my life--and I will never let anyone tell me any differently; however, if George N Parks had not fueled the band which created Band Day...if he had not trained a drum major who became my band director...if he had not instilled the importance of integrity in leadership...if he had not taught me to "be Santa"...then being in Leominster High School's marching band would have been simply a "thing" I did in high school, and I would not be who or where I am today.
My heart goes out to the other thousands--and I'm quite sure the number is that high--who are mourning the loss of this man today.
In October, this band had the audacity to "request" that we attend an event on the weekend (veteran members, however, made it clear that missing it would be the biggest mistake you could make). The idea of waking up at 6am to drive to school and ride a smelly bus for an hour was deterring enough, but to top it off it was on my birthday. Whether through peer pressure or faith in my superiors I can't recall, but at the end I decided that I would indeed attend Band Day 1999.
We arrived at UMass that cool, foggy morning armed with music from the Beach Boys, and I was still curious as to how exactly we were supposed to learn an entire drill in one morning (of course, at this point I was envisioning that we would be moving chart by chart making full-out formations). Soon I realized that this crazy ensemble was made of something very special at the core. Our bus was boarded by a pair of crazy-sounding college guys with what seemed like strings tied around their foreheads, and their level of enthusiasm both confused and intrigued me. "These must be the kids who really like band," I thought. Then throughout the day I seemed to encounter a lot of those. It seemed everyone with the maroon jackets and black sashes had this strange, Disney-like aura emanating from them--as if the only option was to fully enjoy every minute of every day.
By halftime, I thought I was prepared for what would occur. We would meet in one quadrant of the stadium, file in, and on measure 14 I would step off the back sideline to form a giant mass on the field. But I wasn't nearly prepared for how the show really went. I counted, I stepped, I stopped...but when the entirety of the high school cohort united with the UMass bandos in progress, I was overwhelmed with the sheer power and emotion that can only be experienced when you are one piece of a 1300 person machine; a machine which at its core was powered by the most densely-packed energetic combustion chamber that could possibly fit into a fairly small-statured redish-haired man.
At post-game (which I would recount as "a special show they did just for us high-school kids"), I watched as UMass took the field and so fluidly commanded our attention and our accolades as they performed themes from Zorro and created a giant Z on the field. By the bus ride home, I found myself thinking, "Wow, I would go to this college just to be in that band."
Later that year our band director left us and was replaced by a fresh UMass graduate, well schooled in the ways of GNP. She brought to us a style and sense of pride that was unprecedented, and not highly welcomed by the older members. She introduced us to the Multibands Pops performance, and scored us seats *right next to* the UMMB at Band Day the next year. By the end of sophomore year, I knew I wanted to be a band director.
In my senior year I was appointed as Drum Major of the band, and to be trained I went to what I had heard was the *only* place suitable for training--the UMass Drum Major Academy. This was my first experience attending a camp away from home, but despite only knowing one person there I was immediately given the sense that I was among family. We trained intensely for 5 days, giving me a sense of pride, accomplishment, strength, and resolve that would at times seem fanciful to those on the outside. And from then on out I had an amazing sense of identity that I would carry forever--for a drum major is always on stage.
When I applied to colleges that fall many of them wanted to hear about an event which had a strong impact on my life. The opening words of each essay I wrote began with a question: "How are your feet?"
Coming to UMass' band camp was one of the most highly anticipated events of my life. Having been to DMA I felt that I knew what I was in store for--and in fact, I found myself to be rather well-prepared for the strenuousness of the week. What I wasn't prepared for was how much the marching band would become a unique and integral part of my existence at school. No matter what was going on in my day, my mind was cleared and focused from 4:40-6:20. Nothing prior nor since has had that kind of influence on my brain. The band brought me to places I had never seen before--but I never felt like I was in a foreign place. Each time the King Ward buses opened their doors, a little piece of home spilled out and surrounded me wherever we went.
Joining the UMMB led me to do something no one ever would have thought I'd consider, yet turned out to be one of the best choices I've ever made. Serving through Tau Beta Sigma was a life-altering event, and brought me a level of friendship and camaraderie I would have never dreamed possible.
Being in a band was the single greatest thing I have ever done in my life--and I will never let anyone tell me any differently; however, if George N Parks had not fueled the band which created Band Day...if he had not trained a drum major who became my band director...if he had not instilled the importance of integrity in leadership...if he had not taught me to "be Santa"...then being in Leominster High School's marching band would have been simply a "thing" I did in high school, and I would not be who or where I am today.
My heart goes out to the other thousands--and I'm quite sure the number is that high--who are mourning the loss of this man today.