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Personal Narrative: What Makes Me Who I Am

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One... Two... Three... Four... Five... I take a deep breath. It's the only thing I can do to keep myself from screaming. I'm looking at one of my co-drum majors, and he's staring at me with his eyebrows raised. A freshman waits to the side of us, hands on her hips as she waits for us to get our lives together. When I told her she needed to safety pin her shirt together to adhere to the dress code, he had loudly professed that I was just being overdramatic and she didn't really need to listen to me. I pulled him aside, and our argument continued in a similar fashion. Fast forward five minutes, and I eventually told her she could go but needed to wear a more appropriate to the next night's band practice. He had won, but he didn't understand

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