I have a letter stored away somewhere that I sent home from my first band camp many, many years ago.  In this letter I talked about how much I hated camp and couldn’t wait to leave.  It was hot, the inside of my knees were raw (think Adidas tennis shoes and ankle knee step), I was sunburned, tired and everything hurt.  My bottom teeth had made a permanent indentation where I had to play my clarinet and my cheeks hurt from all that playing. Here was this man who was making us do all this marching around in the rain in mud and on hot asphalt and I was over it.  Until the end of the week.  That’s when I figured out that I had found someone who was teaching me how strong I could be and how, when working together, a group of people could make something amazing.

So how did that experience prepare me for something as insane as this pandemic?  Well, let’s start from the beginning.  My high school was 10th-12th grade, so I joined as a sophomore.  All sophomores had to wear beanies, every day, all day, at camp.  I’m pretty sure someone would call that hazing now.  I hated them.  They were made of red felt and had a large white “L” on the front for “Lafayette”.  The red dye ran in my hair when I would sweat or it rained.  I was constantly losing the bobby pins that held it on my head.  Seniors gave me a hard time.  But I wore it.  I’m sure there was a purpose in wearing those things, maybe it helped my director keep track of the newbies while working with 120 kids. I’m getting to my point, I promise.

Today as I went to the drug store, I wore my face covering and gloves.  I hate it. It looks stupid.  I feel fine.  I’m only going in for a few minutes.  I can’t wear my earrings. But I wore them.  Sometimes we have to do these things because it’s not about me, it’s because there are others to think about.  Just like when I wore that silly beanie, I’m wearing the mask because I’m being asked to.  I’m staying at home like I’m being asked to as well.  We were told by our director that we were to rest after lunch.  Not go out and mess around, not go swimming, but rest.  Hated it, but in hindsight it made sense.  We were working hard.  I remember teaching a camp once where a group of kids decided to not follow the directions and take no-doze so that they could party all night and do camp during the day.  You can imagine how that worked out.  Sometimes the people in charge actually have a clue as to what you need to do in order to survive an experience and because we live in a collaborative society, much like that marching band, it’s important that we get over ourselves.  Listening to my director was smart because he had our best interests at heart and we were more productive because of it.

The reason my marching band experience worked for me was because I trusted my director.  He wasn’t perfect – nobody is, but he demonstrated that he cared about us, he remained consistent and he had high expectations for everyone which resulted in success.  I may have had butterflies when I went out on the field but I wasn’t scared – I was prepared. Being prepared gives you hope and takes away that fear.  That’s when you can let go and just do what you’re supposed to do.  When something doesn’t go exactly the way you expect, like when I stepped on my shoelace on the first beat of a cadence, stepped out of my shoe and marched the entire show in cold mud in my sock, you keep trudging on. It’s not what you expected, it may be nasty, but you’re responsible for doing your job well, not for yourself, but for others to be successful.  That’s what we’re expected to do now.  It’s not what we were expecting, but the show, or life, must go on, improvising where necessary so that others do well.

Trust is the key here.  I wonder if there is so much fear now because we don’t have anyone to trust?  Who do we trust?  Who do we believe?  Do we believe in science?  Do we trust our faith?  Can we do both? When we lack true leadership, someone who will walk beside us through this learning curve like a great teacher, it opens up our hearts and minds to fear.  Fear is powerful and will keep us from persevering.  The great thing about being a part of a great marching band with a great leader is that those lessons you learn from all the hard work, the sweat and the tears, having to start from scratch and doing it over again, is that you figure out you can apply what you’ve learned to just about anything.

Now, I can only speak from my perspective but I can tell you I’m not afraid.  Not really.  Oh sure, I get frustrated and angry and impatient, but I have not been afraid.  Because time and experience have taught me that God is there and He’s in control.  I have someone I can really trust.  Just like my band director, I have someone that I know has my best interests at heart, someone who knows what is going to happen and what I need.  And because I have attained success with God in the past, because I have persevered through difficult times with God, I know that whatever happens, I’m in good hands.

I’m sure there are other great analogies and stories out there that you pull your strength from.  But for me, it’s three years of pushing myself further than I ever dreamed, physically, mentally and emotionally with a person I completely trusted to prepare me for just about anything.  It’s what I learned from being a part of marching band.