My oldest got in the band...and that brought up a flood of memories

My oldest daughter is headed to 6th grade.  Junior High! eek! Where has time gone? Part of that right of passage is taking the band test.  She wanted to be in the band SO bad. I remember that feeling.  Anyway, she took the test, she made it, and she is so happy.  I also remember that day.  That got me thinking about my junior high and high school years, and I began reflecting on what I want for my daughters.

I want my daughters to be themselves. I want them to have the strength of character and faith to know who they are - in themselves, and in Jesus.  I want them to have confidence in their abilities.  I want them to be "whatever" girls (previous blog talked about whatever).  I want them to follow dreams and ideas if their heart and God lead them there - even if its tough. That made me remember my story.

I loved the band.  I was fortunate enough to go to a school with an AWESOME - and I mean really awesome high school band program.  I loved every minute of it - even the sweat filled, want to cry because my feet hurt and my keds were melting to the pavement of Alabama summers type moments.  Our practice field was a parking lot - talk about HOT during the summer.  I am not kidding when I say shoes melted.  I was me in the band.  I wasn't the best, but I wasn't bad. I loved every single second of it.  I was an overweight, shy, poor kid - which means I was overlooked a lot.  I had some great friends in the band.  We were "somebody" in the band (band was cool in our school bc we were so good - often better than the football team, and we won lots of competitions and went to lots of cool places).

The hardest decision I ever made up to that point in my young life was to quit the band between junior and senior year.  High school is tough enough to navigate when you are a kid like me, why on earth did I quit the one thing I loved with every fiber of my body you ask?  To follow a dream.  I had marched with my high school band since 7th grade.  But I had a dream - a dream bigger than high school, bigger than the horrid senior year I would face, bigger than anything up to that point in my life.  From the time I was oh, about 5, I wanted to be a biologist.  A real, honest to goodness biologist - marine, to be specific.  I poured over magazines from National Geographic, I watched PBS specials, I checked out library books about Cousteau, and others.  When I was a junior, my chemistry/physics teacher told us about a program on Dauphin Island - 4 weeks  in the summer learning about marine science.  I knew my parents could never afford it, but I applied anyway.  And I was accepted. My chemistry/physics teacher, she paid the tuition, room and board. I have been grateful to her ever since.  My parents had to get me there, and provide some spending money.  I was over the moon.  Problem?  The session I was accepted to included the band camp dates.  The band director told me in his office I had a decision to make - band or science, but I couldn't have both. I wouldn't be the last time I chose science over music, but it was defiantly the hardest.

I knew I had the talent to miss band camp and be ok - I had done it before. He wasn't there, but when I was in 6th grade I wasn't picked to march in 7th. And when I came back to school in 7th, a trombone player had quit.  They pulled me up from the "bench" after school started back and the band knew almost all of the show. It was hard work, and it took the entire trombone and most of the low brass line to get me up to speed - and it took nearly half the season, but if a rookie could do it, surely some one with 5 years of experience could do it.  He wouldn't let me though, so that day, 3 or 4 weeks before the end of my junior year, I quit.  I walked from the band hall to the office and became an office assistant 7th period for the rest of the year. I held my head high, until I got home. Then I was a puddle.  Not only was I quitting the thing I loved with all my heart, my best friends were seniors.  So, here I was was, headed to a senior year with no band, and no best friends.

I went to that 4 week summer experience.  I loved EVERY SINGLE SECOND.  I found my home. Standing on the bow of that vessel was the best moment of my life up to that point. I knew, beyond a doubt I made the right decision. Hiking in sand dunes, learning coastal ecology, learning about long shore currents, I had found my element.  Also, I was with a whole crowd of people who didn't know me.  I was myself. I made friends - friends who's letters helped me survive senior year.

I survived senior year, thinking of how close I was to being able to get out.  The 4 week experience showed me that there really was more outside of my hometown, and I could reach it.  I didn't become the next female Cousteau, but I did become a stream ecologist.  I may not be in National Geographic, but I make a difference.  And I followed a dream. 

So what if I was miserable, unnoticed and plain in high school? So what if I didn't have a boyfriend - or even a date?  So what if humiliating things happened to me over and over?  They weren't the end of the world, in fact they were the beginning. God had a plan.   Not having a boyfriend or dates protected my fragile heart until God gave me my husband.  I missed a lot of heartache, disaster, and other things that some girls went through. I didn't have to face some decisions and destructive behavior some other women I know walked through -I'm grateful now for Gods protection during those years.

Above all, no matter what heart ache or heart break the girls may face, I want them to realize there is more. They have a purpose, a destiny and a God has a plan, and they shouldn't be afraid to go for it.