When did I decide that this was the place I wanted to be, standing here outside the venue, preparing to perform in front of thousands of people? All coming together under the same set of circumstances. All preparing for the same heavy task that may change what our childhoods look like. Whether we like it or not we are all united by knowledge but separated by chance.
Now unpacking my drum out of its case, my mind tries it's hardest to focus on one thing, but no matter how hard I try, the stress floods in. Worries of 'What if I don’t do well?' and 'What if I fall and forget how to get up?' flood my mind, as if it naturally wants me to fail. Even then, I regroup myself and find myself with a green, tacky microfiber towel that sticks to my hand. “Thats right” I think as I grab the simple green and spray it on the now damp towel. I meticulously clean the surface of my five-year-old drum, ensuring every spot is free of dirt, before setting it on its stand to be tuned to perfection.
No more than 5 minutes later, I squeeze into the body tight mixed material costume that makes me look like everyone else. What was that word they said they were looking for? 'Uniformity,' or something like that, I thought, as I finally got the zipper to lock me into this mesh of material. The mixes or yellow, creams, and browns all stitched and collaged together to create what is to be the outfit I wear with pride. “This is the culmination of months of work” I repeat over and over in my head knowing the final result isn't the numbers we receive or the piece of metal we could wear around our necks but instead the experience itself.
Soon after, we get called by our instructor for us to start moving to our zones. My heart starts to beat faster as I pick up my drum and join the line of people, as we fit in tight formation. We start moving together in one cohesive motion, all culminating at the same place in a parking lot. This time things feel different here, while I have competed here before, the air smelled different. The scent of incoming rain brought worry and newfound issues as we now rushed to get tarps to cover our electronics and drums. We eventually settled with the easy option and covered everything that was fragile in plastic trash bags to ensure that there would be no waterlogging. Unfortunately this meant that while we would be blessed still with a warm up area, the chance to have the proper warm up would be near impossible.
We made do with the space we had and got through our warm-up sequence with minimal stress, but bigger issues lay ahead. Now that we are done warming up, here comes the dreaded time. The time where we all huddle together as a group, say our motivational speech, trying not to let our emotions overwhelm us as we still need a sense of self control. We say our final words before silently heading into the arena at the nearby college. As we walk I let the pressure of the year fade away. The pain, the hurt, the stress, the anxiety, it all happened to lead me to where I was then.
We are now at the entrance of the tunnel leading into what will be the gymnasium. You can see glimpses of the arena, which is covered in blues, reds, and a slogan across the jumbotron stating ,”go yotes”. I put my drum down on the floor and as everyone else gathers together to listen to the group performing in front of us I separate myself. I find myself on the floor next to my drum with one focus, calm your nerves. I end up doing my pre competition ritual of meditation which helps me focus on our show and my nerves seemingly disappear. When I arose from this peaceful trance, the curtains opened and we rushed into the gym, putting our drums down in neat lines and then pulling out our show floor for all to see. This was our moment to display to the people and the judges what we have prepared for their eyes and ears.
As the set starts, I hold myself in a fetal position on the floor and begin the choreography I've been given for this piece. Executed flawlessly with every move I find myself becoming more and more embedded in this show. Feeling the rhythmic alterations made by the front ensemble, the emotions of the show overtake me. I found myself not just performing the show but becoming part of it. Now it is my time to show everyone what I have been given. As my solo starts I feel the nerves kick in, and while some of our group jumble notes together trying to be coercive we find eachother again and push back into the normality we would have in rehearsals.
After many seamless transitions between our many soloists and large ensemble impacts, we found the pressure back in my hands but now the stakes were much higher. My group was the closing solo before the great closing impact. While this provided stress and a large amount of nerves, I found myself on my own two feet lifting the music to the judges. Feeling the happiness that I've been a part of this great thing that shows not only the culmination of time and efforts but the culmination of humanity.
As the last notes play, we sit with tears in our eyes, smiles on our faces, and heavy hearts, knowing our efforts are fading away and the stress is now a distant memory. I run out of the gymnasium with excitement, criticism, and comradery as the group puts our drums down. We know not of the score or the judge’s opinions but to us, it doesn't matter. We were on top of the world and as a collective group didn't care about the scores as the friends we made along the way, the memories shared, and the goofy scenarios we have experienced have now meant much more to us than anything “some old people” had to say about us.
Awards came later that night with all of us in our costumes standing in lines by age and experience where the oldest people were in the front of the group leading us and protecting us from the impending anxiety of what the judges thought. As they called out “In fourth place, with a score of 90.525… Etiwanda High School” we applauded knowing that we were the forth best drumline in Southern California. What did this mean in reality though, that we worked hard and performed somewhat good? My takeaway was that the judges thought we were the fourth best not for the show or the music or the choreography but instead for the comradery and the ability to be so cohesive that we were undeniable.
This thought blossomed into a core memory and a worthwhile lesson that I never fully understood until now. So many have said that the moment is there until it's gone and then it's left in your memory forever. This has taught me that living in the moment is what truly has brought me closer to success than many others. The cohesiveness of friendship and the uplifting of spirits when times were rough, all lead to success, not the suffering of a group that only wanted the highest score of them all. Life is moments of a picture that you may never get back so while you may sit in them and stress about the future, that may never change the outcome, but blur the journey leading up to it.
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