The Pride of the Band


Six o’clock. Dressed in black, we all as we have every year. Seeing everyone dressed like you, brings feelings to your heart, a feeling like a big family with everyone talking and laughing. Then the director walks in and everyone hurries to get there instruments ready for tuning. We all practice a few measures of the music and make sure that we can hit every note perfectly as the people walk in.

Seven o’clock. Our hearts start racing and we are all excited, nervous, and ready to get it done and over with. With the final tuning done and the percussion finished putting their instruments on the stage and grabbing their mallets and sticks, we head out to the auditorium to listen to the choir.

Eight o’clock. The choir finished and the gospel choir goes up. They sing their songs about our God and His might.

Eight thirty. Jazz band time. They end up going to the stage and making a toe tapping session. They, so far, had the biggest applause.

Nine o’clock. Our hearts race even faster and we get even more nervous, but we can’t show our fear. We head up one by one onto the stage to take our seats and prepare the first piece. Our instruments set on our laps. With one fluid movement, we send our instruments to our mouths. Then with the signaling of the bass drum, we begin.

From the flutes to the trumpets and back to the clarinets, the melody and harmony bounce. Each instrument sharing a part with another. All of it continuing to bounce around with each finger racing to get to the next note before it slipped away.

The first to song were classical and ranged from being slower to growing faster and faster and towards the end, a slow decrescendo. Clapping was slow and boring, much like the songs. Then we prepare for the next piece, our favorite out of all of the songs.

We start out with the boring entrance of the song. A couple measures of listening to the boom of the bass drum and the crash of the snare, then all together, we start “Clocks”. Next was the slight and utter transition into “Lost”. While we hit the last notes, there were measures where no one played, no one moved. The crowd started to applaud silently to themselves, feeling the utter and awkward silence.

The clarinets started out with the silent beginning. The Saxes filled up the harmony as they moved to whole notes. The band kept playing and kept growing until the bass took up the harmony. It continued that way until “Viva La Vida” finally ended.

A very awkward silence followed. Then a roar of applause erupted from the crowd. Everyone stood up and applauded and whistled. I looked around to find my parents. They were clapping and whistling the loudest. I felt proud of what I had played. I knew that what I had played everyone knew and met somewhere in the middle.

Back in the band room, everyone high fived each other and told everyone they had done a good job. I felt the proudest of all showing that the clarinet line had been showed and heard. It didn’t matter what we messed up or had gotten wrong, all that mattered is that we had the loudest applause of all and on Monday, we would be able to watch what we had done, point out the mistakes we might have made, and… most of all… eat doughnuts and drink milk.


Thanks to Mr. McNew for teaching me to never give up and for never giving up on me!!!!!!