I'm
not ashamed to tell you that I was a dyed-in-the-wool band geek. My geekdom
lasted far beyond high school (where our uniforms had little red satin capes), into
college and through my entire teaching career, a panorama of tall fuzzy hats, pants
with stripes down the sides, and white bucks that required the kind of polish
they make for baby shoes. I have marched in at least 200 parades. I also know
what it feels like to have a piccolo adhere to your lower lip, via frozen
saliva.

And--I
have a certain animosity toward people who ridicule student musicians, or underestimate
the efforts of school bands to provide music for community occasions.  Kids who join the band and stay with it over
several years just love to play. They like the rush of making music with their
friends--and as they grow older, they become part of a time-honored cycle of performances
and commitments that student musicians fulfill for school and community:
football games, pep assemblies, the nursing home at Christmas, Honors Night, commencement.
There are special traditions--the hot cadence a talented drummer wrote back in
'88, or gathering outside the band room to play the Alma Mater before
graduation. These are meaningful and healthy activities for kids, a way to
share their talents with the wider world, to be responsible, and part of
something good.

So
I was surprised to see a nasty letter to editor in the local daily, criticizing
the high school band in the next town over for wearing their summer uniforms
(shorts and band T-shirts) on Memorial Day (which was warm and sunny this year).

Several hundred people were in attendance to watch our
show of respect for the fallen men and women of our armed forces. This was also
a time to give respect to those who have served and are currently serving our
nation. My discernment (sic) is the fact
that our high school band did not show the respect deserved of these men and
women. Marching down the center of Main Street in tennis shoes, little orange
shorts and white T-shirts just doesn't do it.

Naturally, this was
followed by the usual range of low-information comments on the slug-like nature
of kids today, and why bands don't swing their instruments and high-step any
more. (Answer: marching styles go in and out of fashion. The question was the
equivalent of asking why cars no longer sport those attractive fins.) Some
people defended the band, and thanked them for showing up-- for 60 years in a
row--and playing in the Memorial Day parade. All in all, however, it was
discouraging.

My bands played the
local Fantasy of Lights parade when the temperature was in the single digits,
and Homecoming in a freezing sideways rain, but summer parades are often the
toughest. I was always happy, waking up on Memorial Day, to see cloudy,
50-degree weather, because I knew heat stroke was not going to be a problem. Wool
uniforms are hot and heavy, and plastic hats trap heat. Students are reluctant
to drink  sufficient water, because they
can't drop out of a mile-long parade to use the porta-john. Wearing lightweight
clothing was an eminently practical choice--a decision that had nothing to do
with respect.

On Memorial Day, high
school trumpeters got up at dawn to meet members of the VFW and play Taps in dozens
of little country cemeteries across the county. Band parents transported trailer
loads of marching gear, flags, chairs and stands to parks and parking lots, and
teachers conducted the Navy Hymn and America the Beautiful once again. And in
the midst of their final exams, graduation, prom and regional sports events, high
school band geeks showed up--once again--to march down Main Street in honor of
those who sacrificed to make such a small town parade possible. Showing up,
rain or shine, year after year. That's respect.

Image: Flickr/Creative Commons/dbking