venting stories

drumline

-----time?: some time around 9 or 10 am----
----date?: maybe October or November----
----place?: in school during band----

When I first transfered to this one school, I was put on cymbals because they had no idea how skilled I was. I was always 2nd chair for snare drum at my old school. I felt horrible. Since I never had any parts in the music.

Always 2nd and 4th beat. It was, sickening. I eventually just stopped playing. Always sat down and layer my head on a music stand, no one bat an eye nor cared. I mean I was just the cymbals. No parts. Didn't really matter.

That was 7th grade.

In 8th grade was when drumline started up for the first time again after COVID.
Still cymbals. Could have been snare if it wasn't for I lost my talent. Stuck on cymbals again.

I was the best cymbal player but yet I felt like I could do so much more. Me and the other cymbal player sometimes didn't even get the music due to we were put away from the precussion and the other band.

The drumline on certain days would go to a separate room and play just drumline songs. Me and the other cymbal player never really talked, but when I did?

I got laughed at.

When ever I accidentally missed a crash or a chisel, the lead snare would glare at me and roll his eyes. The two girl base drum players would pretend to be nice.

The other two base drumers never really cared for me.

The tenors guy tried to cheer me up but even he didn't like me.

At one point it got to where the snare and tenors would go into the band hall in first period (even though they should be in the field for athletics) and would play as loud as fucking possible.

The bus drop off was all the way across the campus and I could hear them. I told them to tone it down a bit because I couldn't even hear the conducter who was literally 3 feet infeont of me.

They just said: "we're drums! We are supposed to be loud!"

Another day where I was really fed up and wasn't in a normally neutral mood I hadn't played at all. It was all good and all until they all got mad at me. They would get mad at me? Someone who was genuinely feeling like shit and wanted to cry but couldn't?

Ha. That's funny ain't it?

One morning they told me I should just quit drumline. I almost cried right then and there. I LOVE drumline, but I really did think about it.

One or two weeks for a single period our only other snare didn't play because she twisted her ankle. Complaining how it hurt to much when she could literally stand on it.

I really wanted to say: "well such it the fuck up. I once had a twisted ankle and it hurt to do anything, get up, sit down, walk, or just fucking sit up. But I still did. I walked on it for 5 fucking days, because I was in Houston and San Antonio, and I wouldn't let that stop me. I fucking walked all over San Antonio, walked around a huge neighborhood in houstion, walked the fucking River walk 3 times, all with a twisted ankle and not a single pain med nor ankle brace" but I kept my mouth shut.

One time when it was around Christmas, I was assigned bells, the lead snare got mad as hell, because he wanted to do it but didn't even know how to play them. I had to teach him and the tenors how to play the bells.

One of the must hurtful moments in the drumline was when I announced that I will be transferring to a new school next semester (the school I'm currently at is the one I was transferring to). The teacher wasnt in there yet, he was still in the iss room. And every single one of them said the exact same thing to me. And all at the same time too!

"Good riddance"

Those words, have been engraved into my brain since then. And that was just last semester.  I fucking hate that school.

I hate the drumline.