Marching On
Sweat dripping down my face and butterflies fluttering around my stomach as if it was the Garden of Eden, I took in a deep breathe and asked myself: "Why am I so nervous? After all, it is just the most exciting day of my life." When the judges announced for the Parsippany Hills High School Marching Band to commence its show, my mind blanked out and I was on the verge of losing sanity. Giant's Stadium engulfed me, and as I pointed my instrument up to the judges' stand, I gathered my thoughts and placed my mouth into the ice-cold mouthpiece of the contrabass. "Ready or not," I beamed, "here comes the best show you will ever behold." There is no word to describe the feeling I obtain through music. However, there is no word to describe the pain I suffer through in order to be the best in the band either. When I switched my instrument to tuba from flute in seventh grade, little did I know the difference it would make in the four years of high school I was soon to experience. I joined marching band in ninth grade as
This year, the dream of my freshman year came true. Furthermore, I joined marching band in the first place to enhance my playing skills, but the knowledge I acquired thereof was so much more. I knew exactly what dedication and hard work it would take to win the championship trophy at Giant Stadium, and I refused to settle for anything less than my best effort. It took a bulk of my time, but the sentiment of knowing that I was an important part of band made it all worthwhile. Most significantly, I feel that although victories don't come easy, as long as I work as hard as I can and persevere through pain and anguish, I can achieve a lot more than winning first place in Giant Stadium. My endurance and my effort to play the best show without complaining about the weight paid off when I received the award for "Rookie of the Year. Nevertheless, I pointed my toes high in the air as I marched on, passionate about the activity. After four seasons, I can truly say that I became a commendable leader as well as an excellent marcher and player. I became Drum Major of the PHHS Marching Band, along with being a soloist on timpani for the percussion feature. As a result, my band instructor saw my drive toward music and I was named Quartermaster for my junior year, being trusted with organizing, distributing, and collecting uniforms for all seventy-five members of the band. My experiences in marching band has brought me tons of friendships and pleasant memories I will never forget. During practices, I always attempted to ease the discomfort as the sousaphone cut through my collar bone, but eventually my shoulder started to agonize and bleed under the pressure. It was a test of persistence, passion, and commitment in life, as I managed pass with flying colors. Whenever the band had practice, followed by a football game and then a competition, my brain would blur from fatigue and my body would scream in agony.
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Acceptance Essays
