Band Camp Narrative

My most memorable event is being in the 2013-2014 Lee Summit North Bronco Marching Band is here’s why is it, September 28 it was my first band competition and it was Park Hill South the weather wasn’t all that it was was warm but the rain just wasn’t giving us a break we got to Park Hill South and suited up well when we went down to the school we stretched and then we got in our lines and we were halfway down to the field and we had to go back to the school because it started lighting and with the tubas it just wasn’t safe to go and so we sat waited for like 30 mins and then we went down to the field and I heard “Lee Summit North you may now take the field” well I heard front ensemble play and it was real,it was time,and it was now my first

“Mom, I don’t think I want to go anymore.” “Ella, I already paid. You’re gonna have to go” “I’m gonna die,” I thought in my head. I’m on my way to my first band camp. I joined my high school’s marching band a few months ago and have been working all summer on my marching and music.

When I was in marching band finding my identity was one of the hardest things that I had to do. It took me to my senior year to fully understand what it meant to fully identify myself as a member of the Titan Regiment. What made me understand that I was a member because of recognition that I received in my last two years? Having the honor to lead my saxophone section in marching band and to be an inspirational figure to them recognized me. When this happened, it confirmed to me that I was really a member of the Titan regiment. This community defined me because it's built on top of my leadership skills that I currently had and it also help me to make more mature decisions as I got older. This experience did that by challenging me

1. Thirty pounds of metal resting on my left shoulder, I marched for hours in the blistering hot sun. The sousaphone was my greatest enemy. In 6th grade I was chosen to play tuba for our middle school band, I didn't like it at first, but it grew on me. Two years later, I had gotten pretty good. I made all state band, won some awards, and was 1st chair. I had no intention in joining the marching band my freshman year.

When I first joined the marching band in high school, I was very insecure and unsure of what to expect because it was very unfamiliar to me. Near the beginning of the season, our director and staff began to teach us how to march and play simultaneously. Many people were doing fine but some were struggling and I was one of those kids in that predicament.

It was late into the evening when I returned to my high school’s football field to recollect the jacket I had left back. It had finally come, it was the night of my last marching band rehearsal. In that moment, I was alone, but as the neighboring building lights dimly poured into the field, I could imagine the arena glow with life as I thought of my four seasons of marching band. It was at this location, out of many, that provided me the opportunity to share unique memories with my peers and develop my greatest talent: playing the clarinet. I initially chose my instrument without understanding as an elementary school student what band was, but through my first set of rehearsals, I quickly realized that playing an instrument was harder than I had anticipated. That, however, did not discourage me. I grew fond of playing and was determined to practice daily technics that would strengthen my musicianship. As I played into middle school and high school, my lung capacity, along with the ability to keep tempo, improved, but I believed by then that my performances should exemplify more than my skills. Through my participation in marching band and Wind Ensemble, I’ve aspired to take not only the audience, but myself included, into a world beyond music’s notes and phrases. I find comfort to know that I can create something out of pure air and have others find happiness within it. This is what kept me playing for nine years. I have incorporated music deeply into my life, but I believe it does not define me. Instead, I have learned valuable lessons that have benefited me off the stage such on time management and discipline and have grown alongside my talent.

Marching Band has been a part of my life since I was about 9 years old. “I’m with the band” has been something I’ve said since I was in the fourth grade. In 2008, my band director, Mrs. Bollaro decided she would create a Pep Band, which soon turned into the ALJ Marching Band. My oldest brother, Eddie joined, and two years later, my other brother, Giulian joined. I was always mesmerized by the pretty flags and the spinning weapons, so it was not a surprise when I decided to join colorguard. When I finally made it to the eighth grade, I was allowed to join the colorguard. From the moment I knew what colorguard was, I wanted to be a part of it. My mom, and two of my aunts were in their high school colorguards, so being in colorguard meant more than just spinning. Joining marching band meant that I was following in my family traditions, and continuing what my family had started.

It was mid-September but it was still 90 degrees. The blistering heat mixed with the 100% humidity and the approaching thunderstorm made for a typical marching day.We were in the band room. You know, the room where all the music nerds carry on. Where the tears of anger, pain, joy and happiness are shed. The room with the old musty, dirty, smell and the floor that is engulfed in everyone’s spit and dirt. The enter if you dare room.You know the one right? Everyone was getting their marching uniforms on. Pristine, clean, and ready for a miserable but yet heartwarming show. The freshman’s first band show and the seniors last. Thunder over Aurora band show is supposed to be like no other but the day was about to change. Our heavy metal halftime

My final night at French Woods Festival, the arts camp I attended for three summers, my bunk decided to stay up long past our curfew, sitting on the counselor’s bed and reminiscing about how we had spent the prior six weeks, trying not to talk about our separation the next morning. While I sat, laughed, and cried with my surrogate family that night, I was also doing something else; I sat by the dim flashlight, trying to quickly finish a friendship bracelet with a ballet shoe on it before morning came, so that I could give it to my favorite dance teacher.

Good morning, this is Deanne and I’m talking with Jacki this morning and Jackie is going to give us a little insight on what she has seen at the camp and what she sees as progress and her experience as an instructor here working with the students.

A tangle of emotions encompassed me as I walked toward the library to meet my new family for the week. I did not want a replacement family, I wanted my own family back. On the first day of Character Camp, a group composed of ten strangers combined to form a makeshift family. Each person had something unique to contribute to our group, “I don’t have a uvula!”, “I lived in Norway for two weeks!”, and “I have a van full of watermelons!”, formed a unique bond between us, turning our makeshift family into a real family.

     Tony finished getting ready, and then we left for the high school. The parking lot was filled with all the other seniors’ cars. Tony and I walked into the library ten minutes late like usual, and the principal had already started giving instructions. I found my place in line and then was all ears. I couldn’t help but look around at all the others. Smiles were plastered on their faces as if they had heard a hilarious joke. Once the principal concluded his speech, the whole senior class paraded down the hallway to the commons in two uniform lines stopping just outside the gymnasium doors. We could hear the band warming up and playing songs. All the people that were standing around me were bubbling

The alarm clock buzzed loudly beside my ear. Feeling like a gong that was being hit repeatedly was placed right beside my head. I sluggishly pulled myself out of my bed and dragged myself to my closet. The words, first day of school moaned ghastly in my head. Summer was uneventful and school was just going to be hell. I picked out an old, worn out flannel and a pair of jeans to wear. Not rushing at all, I struggled to put the raggedy clothes on. They smelt like horrendous lies and rumors. Exactly what this state and my school are built on.

It was bitter cold and snowing that February morning as the team boarded the bus. After loading up the costume bags and luggage, the girls climbed into their seats wrapped in blankets holding hotel cups of hot chocolate. Everyone’s mood was the same mixture of excitement and terrifying fear. The day they had spent almost ten months preparing for had finally arrived. It was state drill.

It didn 't seem different, just a casual day at camp, the sun bright in the sky, kids running everywhere as they cool air kept them going, but little did I know, it was all about to change...For the worst. I woke up at 6:00 and Xavier and I went outside for some fresh air. It was the First day at camp and the first day away from my nagging parents, who were the reason I came to camp, so I could finally have fun without them bothering me. Everyone else was inside sleeping, so me and Xavier went around the camp to the area that were usually packed with people, that was the biggest benefit of getting up early, you got to do anything you wanted, except for the canoes which were not aloud until 12:00, for supervision reasons. We hurriedly ran to the wooden cave like house they called the story building, where we eagerly took out our devices we had been so patiently waiting to play, we cautiously looked out and saw no one. With the rule of no phones allowed, the mornings were the perfect time to play, with the supervisor not up yet. As for the camp itself, it was large and had many places to go and it was right next to a lake. There were multiple buildings such as the kitchen,the story room, the cabins and the gift shop. After about an hour we headed back right before people started to get up, no one knowing we had left the cabin. So while everyone got ready for the day we hid our cellphones and tablets under our clothes at the bottom of our bags, where no one