My high school no longer exists.
Neither does its rival. If you asked the people of my hometown, I believe you would hear them say that it was necessary for logistical reasons. The buildings were old, they were in the wrong locations, the needs of the population had changed... While I won’t refute that those are among the reasons, none are the truest reason for not preserving the names, the mascots, or the attendance zones for the Wichita Falls and Rider high schools when it came time to make updates.
Those who were there—and who got out—know quite intimately the cultural disaster that was the “Old High vs. Rider” rivalry. They know the extensive property damage, the threats made upon lives, and mutually destructive lack of progress that this adversarial relationship caused in matters of education, infrastructure, and economy. Like a long-abandoned garden overrun with burrs and rot, the only path toward a better future was to simply dig it all up and start over again.
Call me once-bitten twice-shy, but in the time since the announcement of Liberty as the second high school in LCISD I worried much about the future of our district. Here we are now, three years since it opened. Do you, dear reader, understand what it is you have? Truly? No one can know the value of water as surely as the man lost in the desert, but perhaps I can—in some small way—help you to see as I do. The rains have fallen gracefully upon Woodrow. The fruits of success flourish in our fields and the relationship between the Lubbock-Cooper and Liberty high schools is in bloom. What a beautiful sight it has been.
Though no district is perfect and I am not blind to bad actors, what I have seen is a community that cheers for its neighbors and celebrates their success.
In only their third year of existence, and with the odds stacked heavily against them, the Liberty Patriot Regiment found their way to the 4A State Marching Band Contest for the first time in 2025. It was not an accident, they did not stumble into it. This year, the top five bands at the Area-A contest advanced to State and the Patriots knocked the gates down with a third place finish. They did it despite their diminutive size, despite their relative age, and despite having never made finals before.
I wish everyone could have seen what happened next.
Patriot Regiment and Pirate Pride Band drum majors celebrate together at the Tumbleweed Classic.
Before the Liberty band could even make it to the bus after retreat, most of the 139-member, red and black band from just down the road was already blowing up social media and their messages with words of celebration. I haven’t shared this with anyone until now, but I had several members of the Pirate Pride Band messaging me even before Area Finals retreat begging for results. My inbox was filled with questions; “Did Liberty make State?” and “How did Liberty do at finals?!”
A week and a half later, the Pirate Pride Band crowded the newly-minted median in front of their high school to cheer and wave as the charter buses carrying the Patriot Regiment drove past on their way to San Antonio. A few days later, the Patriots would respond in kind as they lined up to see the Pirates off on a trip of their own to the same place. For the fourth consecutive year, Lubbock-Cooper High School would see their ticket punched to the Alamodome and—guess who was the first to congratulate them after their Area competition?
Rain upon my desert. If you only knew.
The things that Band teaches you that have absolutely nothing to do with music… This world, if it ever paid attention, would be unable to contain its jealousy. More than 200 billion dollars each year is spent fighting for your attention and working to shove content in your face, curated with surgical precision, made to fill you with outrage and pit you against your neighbor. Imagine if we all shut it off and, instead, were simply about each other like these kids are. I spend more time with these bands than not during the school year and it should be no wonder why. This life is arduous, and they give me strength.
Many hands make light the load, and the rising tide raises all ships.
To my kids: It is up to you to grow what we’ve started here.
To Put On a Show
Each year, these marching bands start working on their performance in the Summer, weeks before school begins. They rehearse in the blistering heat and, eventually, in frosty cold mornings late into October and early November. Hundreds of hours, thousands of reps, and untold boxes of pizza later they compete for a chance to perform for just seven to eight minutes on the biggest stage in high school marching band. There is a saying, you have to love it enough to hate it, that applies to this ‘sport’ more than most other extracurricular activities in my opinion. Marching band requires a different kind of discipline and forces you to rely heavily on the people around you in order to be successful. Qualifying for the State Marching Band Contest is a tall task, and any ensemble who earns their way onto the turf at the Alamodome is, doubtless, fortunate to be there.
The Liberty Patriot Regiment’s 2025 show was called Swarm, and featured music by Benjamin Britten, Frank Ticheli, and Mikhail Glinka.
The Pirate Pride Band’s 2025 show was called No Vacancy, and featured music by Gershwin, Shostakovich, Mozart, and The Eagles.
A mere five years ago, it was a dream scenario to see Lubbock-Cooper High School make the State Marching Band Contest. Today, we have not one but two bands who can claim that accomplishment as their own. While we should have such high expectations of ourselves, we should also never undervalue these achievements when they happen.
Bands, let’s be honest with ourselves. Liberty, you might have been disappointed when you saw the woodwind score. Lubbock-Cooper, that was a very quiet bus ride back to the hotel for a reason that we all understand. You’ve done something incredible, and yet you also feel like you could have done more. I get it. How do you find the balance between accepting that you have something to be proud of and still wanting to do better? All I can tell you is that you’re not going to find it on your own. When the answer comes to you, it will be when you are working with 50 to 150 of your closest friends. The road back to the Alamodome in 2026 starts today. Trust your band mates, trust your directors. The only way forward is together.
There are individuals in these bands who had considered, for one reason or another, that they might not have been with us this season. Yet, here you are. Seeing you in uniform this year was a privilege. (For those who are considering not doing band again next year, you’ll be hearing from me.)
To my seniors: I am so proud of you. The road does not end here. You will take us with you wherever you go, along with everything that you learned. The person you have become over these last four years is the person who will face whatever comes next, knowing that you are better for having been a part of the amazing thing we have going on here. Thank you for everything that you have given to these programs, and for being my friends.