Band

I don’t remember exactly how it happened. I have a vague memory of wanting to be in band because my brother was in band. Band was a big deal in the small town where I grew up. But I don’t have a clear memory of how I came to play trumpet—except for my dad finding a trumpet for free—at a furniture store!

So I started on trumpet in the 6th grade. And I started marching in the high school band in 7th grade. And somewhere along the way, my band director asked if I’d be willing to switch to mellophone. “It’s a marching French Horn,” he said. “You play it just like trumpet. And we need the harmonies.” So I switched to mellophone for my 8th grade marching band season. And then he handed me a broken French Horn for concert season. I learned to play it all wrong. But I managed to make Governor’s School my 10th grade year and meet the woman who became my French Horn professor through college, and I’ve stayed the course with French Horn to this day.

I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I’m so thankful that I chose band. Or that band chose me. Because sometimes we choose life. And sometimes life chooses us.

What is something that you’ve chosen or that has chosen you that you wouldn’t be the same without?

And more practically, what instrument did you once play? Your voice and the piano can be included in this discussion. Do you still play?

Please comment. I’d love to hear. It’s nice to hear good, positive news when so much in this world is sad.