Wearing a heavy, uncomfortable uniform with a feathery plume strapped to my head while simultaneously playing an instrument and stomping around a football field does not sound very glamorous at a glance. However, this is how I chose to spend the majority of my Saturdays and Tuesday nights when I signed up for marching band. Enticed by the promise of a magical and musical trip to Disney, I had no idea what I had gotten myself into. I suffered through hours upon hours of music memorization and painstakingly trying to perfect my form and sync my steps to everyone else’s. The goal is to move as one, to melt into one band whose sounds and movements are precise, identical, and smooth. Every week I stood in the fields as the sun set around me, all
