Just as every year one can count on the seasons changing, I can count on the consistancy of my annual session of band camp. For the last 3 years, I have suffered through this torture for one full week of hell (granted however, most of them I have psycologically blocked from my memory, they have been just as tromotising.) I mention this only because today it has begun again. Just in time for my internship (tear) to end. Today was that magical day when all the little freshmen and the section leaders come to share in the miseries that they will surely see more of in the days to come.
Bright and early, I was at Kennedy, grumpy and sleep deprived. I grumbled through all of the senior meeting and was certianly not happy about band starting so very soon. And I was still in a bad mood when the freshmen showed up and we had to go march, not what I wanted to be during that morning, but begrudgingly, I agreed. Then something amazing happened! Something so magical and fantazmagorical that I could barely contain my daft excitement! All of these freshmen (whom I must say I had much underestimated) marched wonderfully! They picked up so well; I was really amazed and delighted. Despite some disoplinary issues that will really have to be dealt with before the season begins, they actually did very well.
Later then in the day, we moved from marching to something (which despite a summer of practice, still seems to be challenging for them) that is rifle and flag work. Not so pretty. For some reason, these children won't practice on their own, so we are left with a pretty good marching color guard, who can't spin, not so good. Why must this season be so very stressful? And, more importantly why must this be my senior year, when the most pressure is put on me to look good and I want to be the best? Questions; all left unanswered.
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