Vincent, Quintin, and me

chapter 1. saying good-bye

     It's funny once you start to think about it. School, when you are in school all you want to do is get out of school. But now here I am, the very last day of my senior year in highschool.

     It's the very last time to walk these halls, see these faces, see these friends, see the band room. School is my second home. It's a metaphor, I guess thats what you would call it. Between the pity arguments in the hallway, to the wondering freshman who are happy that their 1st year is overwith.

     I have to say good-bye to all these amazing people. My friends are family. Yet another metaphor, except this one means something more. My friends are family. These people, my friends, they all are so amazing individually. Yet when we are together it's completely different, we aren't just Amazing, we're bulletproof. We are a team, we have each other's backs, we support each other, but most importantly, when one of us falls down the rest of us pick them back up on their feet.

     Have you ever seen a football team before their big game? They are all huddled up, arms around each other, whispering word of motivation. They are there for each other, on the field. Now, have you ever seen a Marching Band before the game? No? They are standing their insterments in hand, ready to March onto that feild like a bunch of graceful deer. They usually have that small chant they do before marching down to that stadium,

How are your feet?

TOGETHER!

Knees?

LOCKED!

Shoulders?

BACK!!!

Elbows?

BENT!

eyes?

WITH PRIDE!

eyes?

WITH PRIDE!

eyes?

WITH PRIDE!

attitude?

IN YOUR FACE!

Then you hear the 1,2,3,4 from the drum major and you go, left, left, left, right,left. When you reach that field, the lights shining on your uniform, slightly blinding you. You practiced all summer for this. The drum majors arms go up, and so does your insterment. You follow your steps, the. You climb the stairs to the bleachers.

      band is a perfect metaphor for a family. The drum major, the parent. The band itself, the family.

   Now I'm honestly sad to be leaving highschool. I'm going to collage, all alone. This is good-bye I guess. There's a tradition at our school for marching band kids their senior year go into the dressing room and write something, this is what I wrote.

Dear Marching Band friends and family,
      Together we have won and we have lost. We work hard, and practice even harder. When the crowd clapped we smiled. We are not just a band, we are a family. And family is important, this is important. With luck to all future marching band seasons and all marching band students. Good luck. I will be cheering you on, not here, at collage, but this will always be my home, this is forever my start and finish. Forever, EYES WITH PRIDE!
Love, Vaughn.