There are days when I am beaten. Days where I am almost broken. Days where no matter how hard I try, everything I do is a mistake. There are days when I feel like a mistake. Not many can tell, but I am hurting inside. I can mask my pain and fear just as well as anyone else can.
There are days when I have to drag myself up for school in the mornings. Days where I'll study as hard as I can, and barely manage to pass. I'll muddle through my work, doing, doing, doing, but not feeling. I have days where I'm numb to the world around me.
And on those days, when I walk into the band room (earlier than anyone else), I'll sit in my chair in the very front row, smack dab in the middle. I'll get my things ready to play, still trying to wake myself up.
My director walks in, smiles, and asks me how I'm doing. I'll answer truthfully. It has been okay. Not horrible, but definitely not perfect either. He'll nod and smile, and then others will start to flood into the band room.
I can't help but smile when one of the saxophones cracks a joke. Someone walks up to me, and asks how my cross country meet went. I'll tell them it was fine - I didn't get a personal record, but I wasn't horrible either. They'll congratulate me.
When everyone gets settled, we'll start playing. Our director cuts us off, providing some feedback. We'll play again, and we're better. We're listening to each other, blending and balancing, not only with sound, but with emotion as well.
And suddenly, my bad days begin to melt away like ice cream.
They didn't melt away because we played better. It was because we connected with each other that I began to feel better.
Outside of band and my own family, no one goes up to me and says I'm important. I have value. I matter. They assume that because I am generally a happy person, that I don't want to be told that. They assume that since I get good grades and don't get mad often that I don't need encouragement or support. They assume that I live a flawless life because of how I appear.
But in band, people let me know that I am important. They don't just say it, they show me I do by how they act. Upperclassmen let me know that I matter, and that they are impressed by my passion. Freshman and eighth graders slowly befriend me, no matter how anti-social I can be. My director puts up with my band and music rants, no matter how repetitive they can be.
My days aren't brightened by how good we are as a band. My days aren't brightened because I feel like I'm great on my instrument, and want others to see me perform well.
My days are brightened because of how close-knit we are. My days are brightened, because every time I walk into the band room, no matter how rough a day it has been, I know that these people will be there to back me up every step I take. My days are brightened because these people care.
Band isn't just an extra-curricular activity. It isn't just another class. I've grown so much in the past four years I've been in band, and these people have seen me through it. These people aren't just my friends. They're so much more than that.
They are family.
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