Musings from the band class

Among the frapping sousaphones and squeaking trumpets, I’m frequently reminded that family can be found in the most unlikely places. From “preps” to “emos”, all the way to the perky blonde cheerleader sitting next to me, grinning like she always does when she's hit a wrong note.
Our director, a little bigger than an average man with the beginnings of a beard and mustache, watches with hawk-like eyes, waiting like he always does for the bell to ring and for class to officially start. As Wind Ensemble students, we have an early “curfew” to arrive by 8:15, class starting ten minutes later. In this “AP” Band, we are expected to practice until our lips split and our fingers become indented to the shape of our keys.
Band life in such a setting is as far from being nerdy as possible. The girl who leads the 2nd Clarinets wears all black, from head to foot, and plays with her bangs sheathing one of her eyes. The lead Trumpet dyes her hair every week to a new, often neon bright, color. My own section leader is one of my best friends, yet terrifying because of her outright nature to someone else’s mistakes. It is among these bonded misfits that I find myself, and together we make "one band, one sound". (Drumline)
There are festivals to practice for, landing two to five of us together at someone’s house, practicing while taking movie breaks in between. Our director is a man who looks very intimidating, but laughs amazingly to the tune of a soprano girl. He is our leader, our father, who without we would be hopelessly lost. He cares a great deal for his bands, shoving students who try to cram their way into our bleacher section at Pep band and making sure we have all of the right tools at our disposal to be and sound the very best we can.
Around me are my siblings. Some consider the downbeats of band the very beat to their hearts, while others are there treating it as a 'sluff' class. As father’s baton raises, none of that matters. What matters is hitting every note, playing out every dynamic, tuning in to our fellow section members. We laugh, we chatter, we are scolded and picked on, but we are always given a reason to come back tomorrow. In fact, we often linger after performances, until the famous line “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here” line from our teacher sets our smiles akin and our car keys start to slip out from our pockets.
My point? Family, friends, people to share your life with, can be found in places were you often take for granted. Once formed, their bonds become your safety net when other ‘families’ leave you. Life is too short to be wasted thinking your too good to enjoy people’s company.