So it’s time for a confession… I get really bad writer’s blog in the face a hard deadline and so as soon as I set the expectation for Wednesday and Sunday posts I had my work cut out for me. We all stumble but regardless I set the goal to push myself and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. To get the creative vibes I went for a loose prompt. So for my Sunday essays I will be starting a life lessons series in which I reflect on major past experiences (read on to see an essay I wrote about my band days in high school). What could be a better source of inspiration than posting stories of my adolescence on the internet! (..that’s not masochistic on my part at all) But seriously something tells me that tracing our stories back to the beginnings gives us back the pieces of ourselves that make us whole again. So let’s jump in!

Sam

My junior year of high school I was given the opportunity to be a squad leader within my marching bands clarinet section. Before I was trusted with this responsibility I’d never really thought of myself as a leader. My father had always taught my sister and me to never be followers that we should either take charge of the group we are in or stand alone. It was a very stern suggestion to process at whatever age I may have been the first time I heard him say that but I think I managed to find my own truth within it. I am an introvert and when I was younger I was really shy, usually in group projects and assignments in class I was not the leader. I always had a tendency to quietly figure things out myself, put forth my contribution to the group and occasionally chime in if we needed to organize the work we compiled. I felt like I sort of fell back and blended in and for that I never really thought of myself as a leader. It wasn’t until people around me, especially the freshman in my section, told me how I helped them during my sophomore year and how I would make a great squad leader that I got the nerve to try.

Going in for a squad leader interview was nerve racking. I was categorized amongst the average players. I’d never been close to first chair and at the time had not yet auditioned into the higher level band. My director managed not to let me forget that either. Right in the middle of the interview he asked me if I thought someone had to “necessarily be the best player to be a good squad leader,” tact was never a skill of his, I told them they did not, that a leader should be willing to try to be the best and that talent didn’t guarantee a person was a credible leader or personable partner. I suppose it worked because a few weeks later my name was on the list and out of my section of fifteen I was responsible for three underclassmen and myself. I had two sophomores, Kate and Austin and one freshman named Sam.

I think that in addition to my comeback one of the things that won me my leadership position was my idea that each individual needs different forms and levels of assistance. After my experience as a squad member and a student in general I concluded it is a leader’s job to accommodate the unique needs of the individuals they serve. I learned very quickly that Kate would not need me much, she learned fundamentals very quickly as a freshman the season before and was content with quietly perfecting her part of the bargain which I was able to relate to. Often times Kate actually helped me stay on top of things and I was happy to have the support. My other returning sophomore, Austin, is still a good friend of mine. He had perfect technique and was singled out as the best marcher in the entire band but his light hearted nature caused him to joke around a lot. I had to establish early on in the season that while we were still friends in that setting he was going to have to subordinate, I came down on him a few times but he proved to be a huge help as well. Last but not least was Sam, he was the only freshman in my squad and I’d say by the end of the season he was the hardest working kid in the band.

Working with Sam was not always the easiest thing to do. In the beginning of the summer I was asked to take special care in guiding him through his first season. Before band camp as the band reviewed fundamentals Sam had a hard time staying with the beat and keeping up with the people around him. He would often get countless critiques and all the attention and correction from myself and the other squad leaders got frustrating for him. If he was corrected he’d apologize profusely and would sometimes swear under his breath. I had to confront him about it and he exclaimed “I’m sorry! There’s something wrong with my brain and… I didn’t mean it this is just so annoying.” I started making sure that only one person approached him at a time whether it was me or another leader and once we lined up in our traditional blocks (by squad and rank) it was easier to focus on being his primary advisor. The toughest week was band camp, of course, the hours were long and we were expected to run back to our starting points and be attentive through two hour rehearsals twice a day in addition to music warm up and PT in the morning and sectionals in the afternoon. We were all tired, Sam just admitted it. I’d always tell him that he needed to run to his spot and he’d complain how much his legs hurt and that he didn’t want to. As soon as the director would end practice for lunch however Sam would miraculously recover and sprint half a mile to the cafeteria.

It wasn’t until a week later when the band was preparing for the first football game that I realized how much I cared about and respected my squad and my section as a whole. The entire band had a queue to hit just before marching on the field for pregame and Sam kept missing it that day. Another squad leader leaned toward him and said he couldn’t mess up that night because everyone in the stadium would see it. While this person may have meant well, I was convinced that other squad leader should have known better than to say that to Sam and we had a few words after practice. I had become protective and I think that the unexpected adversary established a level of respect that I earned from both my squad and my section.

I continued to space out my critiques to Sam and let him know that he was improving every chance I got. His attitude improved for the most part aside from a few days and after the director threatened Sam’s spot in the show if he couldn’t keep up Sam was more determined than ever. As I mentioned before my director was never very tactful and while the danger of being trampled is quite real when moving at the tempos and technically difficult drills the idea of taking Sam off the field was so cruel to me. Sam started caring about his spot when he saw it slipping away and began to make corrections of his own. His focus and new found optimism was inspiring. I’ll never forget the day he said “I don’t learn as quickly as everyone else but that’s okay I’ll learn it at my own pace.” He had accepted himself and his limitations and worked with them and I’m proud to say that he stayed on the field all season. Even though I took on color guard the following season, my senior year, I kept an eye on my section and noticed that Sam was able to learn his coordinates at his own pace and was never called out on potentially losing his spot again. The significance of caring is not just for the leader of the group each individual contributor has to want the best for themselves as well as the people around them in order to move forward.