“Sometimes you hate it,” Patrick said, and that’s when I knew I wanted to join marching band.

I was a “theater kid” in high school, so I spent lots of time hanging out in the hallway of the fine arts wing—the place that housed the auditorium as well as the band room and choir room. Most of my theater friends were also in either band or choir (or both) so we all hung out together. I’d heard the “marching band sales pitch” a million times.

“You should join band!”

“Band is AMAZING.”

“We have so much fun at competitions!”

None of that was very convincing. It was sometimes annoying (and even a little cultish) to hear the way the band kids tried to recruit the rest of us. From the outside, all I saw was my friends giving up three or four evenings a week, their Saturdays, and who knows how much time over the summer for rehearsals and competitions. I didn’t even play a band instrument. (I also didn’t entirely understand how marching bands could compete against each other. Did they use the clarinets as swords?)

Despite my friends’ relentless positivity (or maybe because of it,) I didn’t find myself even remotely persuaded to join the marching band.

Until the night I sat across from Patrick on the bus. The theater department took a trip to see a university performance of Into the Woods, and we were on our way home late at night. The bus was dark and mostly quiet as many people had fallen asleep on the drive from Chicago to Fort Wayne. 

“Have you ever thought about joining marching band?” Patrick asked me.

He was a senior and the drum major of the marching band. I was a freshman and a bit starstruck by any member of the senior class, so I welcomed the conversation even though I was sure I’d heard it all before.

Patrick explained the rehearsal schedule and that band camp was only a week long (not the entire summer.) He assured me that they really could use me even though I didn’t play a band instrument (yet.) They needed people for the front ensemble, and since I already played the violin he was sure I’d learn fast. He acknowledged the intensity of the time commitment, but pointed out it was only for a few months. He talked about how he and his friends worked on AP Calculus homework together in the band room.

Maybe it was Patrick’s personality, or maybe it was God’s hand nudging me towards something that would become a significant part of my life, (or maybe a little of both,) but for the first time I was able to picture myself becoming a member of this group.

When Patrick admitted, “Yeah, it is a lot. Sometimes you hate it,” I believed him. And when he followed up by telling me it was absolutely worth it, I believed him again.

I heard what I’d never heard before when my friends talked about marching band: honesty.

Unlike marching band, motherhood is something I always knew I wanted. My kids are amazing, and being a mom requires a lot of time, energy, and emotional investment. I have so much fun watching my children grow, and sometimes I hate doing “mom things” all the time. These little kid years are intense. They’re also temporary.

I joined marching band my sophomore year. Near the end of my first marching season, I had decided to quit. I didn’t want to do it again the following year. It was a lot of work and the schedule was demanding. It took up too much of my time—time I could be spending on other things. I still barely knew what I was doing and I didn’t feel like I really belonged. I was tired, and ready to be done.

At the last football game of the season, I sat in the bleachers after we’d performed at halftime. I thought of sitting in those same bleachers next year, watching the band out on the field performing without me.

I knew I’d want to be out there with them.