It was the summer of 1974, the transition between junior high and high school.  A transition that consisted of summer band where we learned to play pep band tunes and were introduced to our marching band music.  As we approached the end of summer, right before school started, we boarded buses for band camp, the great unknown as far as I was concerned.  I wasn’t sure how this whole movement and playing thing went, especially as my band director had asked me to switch to saxophone from clarinet because it would put out more sound on the field. So, there I was in my red beanie sitting on a seat in a hot bus in the summer on my way to camp.

This was back in the day of short shorts, tall socks up to you knees and Adidas tennis shoes.  You know, the kind with the leather zig zag down the side of the shoe?  The zig zag that ate up the insides of your knees while you were doing endless repetitions of ankle-knee marching?  Yes, that one.  It was a badge of honor if your knees were bloody and bandaged by the end of camp.

At some point I wrote a letter home saying I hated camp.  It was hot, it was hard, I was tired and there was no guarantee that I would even be in the show.  You see, my director didn’t reveal who was in the show until a couple of days into the camp so that he could see who the best marchers were and here I was, this little sophomore clarinet turned saxophone player and I was hating it.  Until I heard my name called saying that I had made it.  Ok, maybe this wasn’t so bad.  By the time we got to the end of the week and we had run most of the show, I was sold.  This activity was the best thing ever!

While marching band should never be the main vehicle of an instrumental program, for me it was the thing that stretched me most as a person.  I learned grit, determination, striving for excellence, team work, and discipline.  You quickly learn to get over yourself. I remember marching in a driving rain, splashing in the mud during camp, marching in the cold when I couldn’t feel my fingers at football games, leaving a shoe in the mud during a contest and marching in my wet sock.  I remember standing on a dark football field at attention for what seemed like forever when the stadium lights went off during a game and coming in for a halt where I slid on the chalk and landed on my behind in front of the audience and jumped right back up again.  I remember military style inspections before contests where I had to have the serial number of my instrument memorized in case I was asked and the bottom of my shoes had to be clean.

There were cuts and sunburns, hours of ankle-knee, glide and stride steps, afternoon and evening rehearsals. We left our homes for a week of living in a dorm room with each other with our director as our parent and learned responsibility for showing up at indoor and outdoor rehearsals and meals on time, and working on memorization of music in a little corner of the music building by ourselves.  Getting away from home was a great thing and we weren’t just learning how to do marching band, we were learning how to live independently.

As the years went on, I eventually learned how to do a “swirl” drill and play my instrument at the same time – that didn’t happen my sophomore year.  (Shh – don’t tell anyone).  I worked on marching with the newbies and helped sew beanies for them to wear at camp, so that the red from the felt fabric could run into their hair in the rain at some point just like it had mine.  We marched so much that I could march an 8 to 5 step with my eyes closed, feeling the yard line under my arch as my director told me.  I learned muscle control by imagining holding a grape between my cheeks.  I’ll leave that there for now.  The things I learned at band camp are things I used later to work with my husband’s band and other band camps, sharing knowledge to help other kids feel a part of a great activity.

The purpose of band camp was to have a huge amount of time together to get as much of the show on the field before school started so that when we returned to school, we just had to tweak and perfect. I’m not sure I understand why there are schools today who have an entire week together and never touch the drill.  Isn’t that the purpose of camp?  In some places, it’s no longer mandatory for kids to attend camp, in fact teachers are required to be flexible and allow parents to take kids from camp at any time or go on vacation during that time and STILL allow them to participate.  One of the things I learned from being a part of band was commitment to the organization and its members.  I learned that each person was an integral part of the whole and it was important that I was there, not necessarily for me but for others.  It’s a great skill to learn, if kids are allowed to learn it.

I look back on the six years I participated in band camps and the 20 or so I taught afterwards and I can say they helped shape the person I am today.  The story of band camp is the grit, determination, collaboration, commitment, striving for excellence and self discipline that I use every day of my life.  To my marching band colleagues, I wish you a great season of molding young people into the leaders of tomorrow!