I first wrote A Night of Firsts in 2012. I like to re-publish it every couple of years as it is my most downloaded/viewed blog ever. I know of more than a few directors who annually read it to their band or send it to their parents in advance of their first performance. Feel free to do the same if you are so inclined.
This Friday night, after seven weeks of rehearsals, my youngest son will take the field for the first time as a part of the Basha High School Bear Regiment. In honor of this I decided to revisit and rewrite this content. I hope you enjoy my new take.
This is the free September edition of my e-zine
A NIGHT OF FIRSTS... AND LASTS
Admit it... There's a secret part of you that’s excited that the football season is FINALLY here. Gone are the long hot days of band camp and basics and now it’s finally time to see the kids in uniform! YEEEESSSS!
You're likely just as, or more excited than your students.
For many of your students, this Friday will be full of some very special firsts;
First pep-assembly
First high school football game
First time loading the bus
First time putting on a uniform
First time performing in front of a large crowd
First time under the stadium lights
First post performance pep-talk
It will also likely be full of some not so special firsts:
First wrong notes and out of tune chords
First missed drill spots and out of step students
First dropped toss
First "time tear"
First electronic malfunction
First time where the melody can't be heard because of the drum line
First time a freshman cries out of fear and another out of joy!
Yes, today will be full of firsts, but not "lasts." All of these things will likely occur again (and again and again). Yes, not all firsts are good ones, but they are still special none-the-less.
Knowing how special this evening is, I encourage you to try and take it all in the good, the bad, and the ugly. There will be plenty of time for reflection and rehearsal afterwards, but THIS performance is different, for your students and for you!
For just ONE night, set aside your well trained ears and teacher goggles and enjoy the smiles on your students' faces. Take pride in the the memories you helped them to make and the lessons you helped them to learn. Enjoy the tear filled eyes of your freshman parents. Enjoy being under the lights instead of the burning hot sun. Enjoy the feel and smell of fresh cut grass instead of hot asphalt. Enjoy the friendships this activity fosters and the life lessons that are being learned. JUST ENJOY!
Saturday? That can be about analysis and correction.
But Friday, let's let that be about celebrating the process and not the product, the people and not the performance. Let's celebrate the children who choose music and the impact you have on them.
The first performance will be far from perfect. It may not even be good. But it sure beats the alternative, kids who have nothing to do, no friends to do it with, and no music in their lives.
But as we celebrate the firsts, let's remember that Friday night will also be a night of lasts.
And this is where it gets personal.
My oldest son Brayden had his band experience profoundly impacted by the pandemic. After a disappointing experience, distant learning, cancelled seasons and eighteen months of mitigations, he left band to join choir (and had a GREAT experience). He never really had a TRUE band experience. Something I regret and mourn to this day.
But I have another son, and another chance.
Evan is my second and youngest child. He is a freshmen in the Basha Bear Regiment. We chose this school because of the band program and two incredible people who lead it. They are fantastic educators and even better human beings.
So even after thirty-two years in this profession, Friday night will be full of firsts.
But it will also be full of lasts. Friday will be the last time I will:
Burst with pride and excitement for the first time.
Watch his mother (my wife) tear up with excitement when she sees him in uniform for the first time.
See his eyes light up as the drumline warms up for real.
See him be simultaneously terrified and excited.
See the light bulb turn on as he first understands what the last eight weeks were for.
See him experience his first pre and post-performance pep-talk by his directors.
Smile and give him five bucks for ice-cream with his section after the game.
Get to ask him after the game, "What was it like?"
I know that many more firsts and lasts lay ahead; competitions, festivals, bus rides, trips, and memories are still in front of him. So is hard work, commitment, long days, and late nights. The band, which is already demonstrably good getting better - but it will all pale in comparison to Friday night.
The first time is different. It's special. I still remember mine forty years later
I will do all of this and more...
Because it's possible that his first time will also be my last time.
If I'm being honest, it's possible this will be the only time he has these experiences. I hope it isn't so, but it's possible. The pandemic taught me that nothing is guaranteed. So I cautiously prod, question, cheer and support. I desperately want him to catch the "band-bug." But he is getting to the age where he has to make his own decisions, and I have to accept them.
But I know that regardless of how many times he has these experiences, I know that this season and these experiences will change him in meaningful and profound ways. Ways that his mother and I can not.
I know this because our older son did not get these same experiences.
So, because of all of this, and my thirty-two years as a music educator and nineteen years as a parent, on Friday, Leah (my wife) and I will savor and treasure all that this evening and season holds; the good and bad, happy and sad, and the firsts and lasts. Because the entirety of it all is what makes this incredible activity so special - for my son and his proud parents.
Happy first performance Evan. Be sure to enjoy the moment. I know your mom and I will.
Have a great week.
Scott