This Fall, I have had several students express a healthy amount of fear to me about the future of the world. With such high tensions in a society that has forgotten how to love their neighbor, the last eight years have been such a beat down. Everything is so black and white with no room for understanding, and a “you’re either with me or against me” attitude has been a disease that spreads faster and lasts far longer than COVID ever did. Each word we read online seems to be dripping with hate and laced with accusation. Violence is having its day in places where there is no war. Empathy is in short supply, and compromise has caught the last train out. There comes a point when we cannot bear the noise, even for one more moment.
We all need a break… thank goodness for halftime.
138 young people — each with their own varying beliefs, opinions, backgrounds, income levels, and lifestyles — gather together and cast their differences aside to create something magnificent, to define their own purpose, and to be a part of something bigger than themselves. A group of high school students have managed to figure out something so simple that the rest of the world seems to have forgotten. They choose to be their brothers’ and sisters’ keeper… to be about each other. When the world tells you that you are wrong, broken, or worthless, band tells you that you are important. In the Pirate Pride Band, everyone knows that it takes everyone, and that the only way we win is together. Welcome to the island of misfit toys, where we deal with challenges that many will never know… and we’re better for it.
To reiterate what I have said before, our differences are what make the whole greater than the sum of its parts. If everyone would put down the myopic lens through which they view life for only a moment, they would see what these kids already understand: This “island” is 24,901 miles wide and has a population of 8 billion. It is with great certainty I will assert that music and marching band teach you things that simply cannot be put into words. When you have been it, you know what I am talking about.
At the Area A marching competition in Midland this year, after the finals performance and after the Sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, we were scattered between the buses in the parking lot preparing to re-enter the stadium to hear results. It took forever for the band to change out of their uniforms that night; It’s difficult to find zippers and clasps when tears are impeding your vision. The Pirate Pride Band had just given the performance of the season and the realization suddenly set in for everyone: They may have just performed Of Pawns and Queens for the last time.
Crying and hugging. A strong sense of pride coupled with looming uncertainty. I saw it in their faces: Every last one of them would have signed up for another month of Summer band in a heartbeat, right then and there, if it meant the opportunity to take the field just one more time. I was on the field as results were being announced and, even though they were far behind me up in the stands, I could feel weight fall from their shoulders as the fifth place band was called and they were assured an advancing top-four finish. Lubbock-Cooper High School was going the 5A State Marching Band Championship for the third consecutive time. They would have given anything for just one more run, and they earned it.
I believe that the kids see me as someone who generally doesn’t express a high level of emotion, but they might be surprised to know how much I struggle to keep my composure sometimes. When they stepped onto the field at the Alamodome, turned around after the announcer finished introducing them, and lit up the rafters with those first four notes, what I heard was every single rep from August until that moment merged into one powerful statement.
The difference between a pawn and a queen is the journey. If you look back and have regrets about the person you used to be, it means you’ve grown. Likewise, if you feel trapped and struggle to see any end to what you’re going through, keep going. When you reach the other side, you will be the most powerful piece on the board. Marching band is built upon a maxim: That there is nothing noble about being superior to one’s fellow man, and that true nobility is found in being superior to one’s former self.
The band would go on to finish 27th out of all 5A bands in the state after a solid performance in San Antonio, but for me the image of this season that is burned into my mind happened under the lights in Midland. When they finished that opening set, standing with their arms at their side, I could see so many smiles that confidently broadcasted a unified message: “Watch this.”
To my seniors,
Every moment that we have spent together these last four years was not by chance or because I had nothing better to do. I chose to be here with you because you get it. Life in 2024 may be riddled with despair, but you give me hope. You exude a selflessness that tears down walls, you hold each other accountable in the best possible way, and you stand for each other unconditionally. When you leave this place and begin your life as an adult, you should expect a wave of resistance to these qualities. Prepare yourself.
If there was anything I would ever ask of you, it is to fight to keep them close to your heart… fight like your life depends on it. We need more people like you. I am so proud of you, not for anything you’ve accomplished on the field but for who you are. I will have your back every day of the week and twice on Sundays.
When I look out at the rest of the world, I see the confused masses who live life only for themselves, always missing the point. But when I look at you, my friends… I see all good people.
