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Marching Band Reflection

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In every cilché high school drama movie, the marching band is depicted as dull and its students are often characterized as outcasts. Being a naive middle schooler who has seen several of these types of movies, I believed every word of it for the longest time. Despite this stigma I had, I still joined our school’s marching band program, and every opinion I had built up about marching band completely changed within a single year. I now know that the decision I made to join marching band completely changed how I would experience high school. At the end of my eighth grade year, I had to choose my classes for the upcoming year. I had taken band three years prior and I was inevitably going to continue on with it, but there were two options for band at Pattonville High School. I had to pick between marching band and concert band. Concert band would be similar to the setting in middle school, which is what I was so adjusted to. Marching band, on the other hand, was a whole new concept. Marching band consisted of moving around the football field while playing music, which on the surface appeared too complicated for me. My brother participated in marching band prior to me, so I already formed an opinion on the activity on my own. I definitely was not going to join the marching band, well at least that was what I thought. “You’re joining the marching band,” my mom declared as she erased the small check mark I placed on the registration sheet. She took a black ink pen and checked the marching band option for me without hearing my argument.
“Mom, please. I really don’t want to join.” I was practically begging at this point, but she refused to listen. I pleaded with her all night until she became fed up with my complaining.
“You will join marching band,” she stated sternly, “but if you don’t like it after one year you can quit.” She handed me the bright yellow sheet. I grabbed it from her and studied the small black mark on the sheet. I contemplated crossing out my mother’s selection and picking concert band once again. I had a mental battle for a couple seconds as I intently stare at the piece of paper in my hand. Evidently, my conscious won, and I just slid the registration sheet in my folder. While everyone was

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