This week has been one of the most elucidating this entire semester. After the haze of back-to-back exams and intermittent studying between them, the momentous onslaught of graduations followed. And, following them, were the graduation receptions and family gatherings that 4+ years of hard work and dedication deserve. It was at one such party that I met some family members of people I consider family.
My favorite exchange of graduates interacting with their families was the interaction between my former rank captain, Cymbal Dad Spencer Rankin, and his grandfather: A brief verbal discussion centered around one grandson providing his grandfather with a plate of food, despite said relative not asking for a plate to begin with. It was all in good spirit, but it was also an opportunity for me to glance into the homelife of my Cymbal Dad—and boy, did it explain a lot about the kind, generous, yet witty and humorous guy who welcomed me to the Marching Virginians last year.
It goes without saying that each section in a marching band has a culture, and that elements can be seen shared not only at different schools, but also in different times. Some of the traditions that the Cymbals have now, for instance, started years ago when some former MV decided it would be fun to play with this technique, or to host dinner parties for the entire section. This can be seen even in the greater Virginia Tech Drumline, with the presence of “family gatherings,” in-person or virtual, on most Thursdays; or even in the entirety of the Marching Virginians—*insert 135 degree handwave here*. How members of a section affect the culture of the section, and even future members down the line can be thought of as a lineage of sorts. In the Cymbals, some of the traditions of Keli McClure (the former former rank captain) was passed onto Spencer, who then passed it onto myself and the new rank captain, Celie Anderson, who will then pass it onto the next and so on.
This is all well and good, but why care—why even consider the MVs as a pseudo-Greek Life organization, we don’t have bigs and littles. And to that, I say you’re right, but only technically.
Rank Captain Celie Anderson said on the condition of the band this past year, “Our section may not always be together, but when we are, it’s always like we’re a family. We are able to find things to do together and get closer.” She’s absolutely right in this regard, finding ways to include and welcome the new cymbalists to the line this past season in an even better way than we were welcomed the year before. First-time cymbalist Neffisah D’odoo pointed out in our discussion, “Even in a pandemic, we were still able to find ways to hang out and bond,” a sentiment felt throughout the cymbals.
When asked his opinion on what being a part of a band family means to him, Tuba player Depends said, “The moment I got my nickname, I was a Tuba.” People in and out of VTubas refer to him by that nickname, and the same goes for the other Tubas respectively. Mr. Ends continues with his reflection, “ We had a party that night [I got my nickname], and told each other why we were called that… I want the Tubas to continue what we do best: Have fun. I want them to continue stuff like singing songs, it’s something that even though it annoys people, it’s unique to our section.”
Elsewhere in the brass section, M. Darby claimed “I don’t think I would be in the same position if I had chosen [the people in my major] to be my major friend group. I mean, sure, I would still be me, but I may very well be asking the same question right now if I hadn’t chosen the Marching Virginians, just with a different look on life.” For him, like many others, the band continued to be his core group of friends going all the way back to his first year of marching in high school. “They changed me. They allowed me to be who I am without question. They love me, and I love them: Isn’t that what family is about?”
To those who graduated this past week, I commend you on a good 4+ years spent in your studies. To those who marched alongside us this past year (and years before), thank you for changing my life for the better. I don’t think I would be the same person I am today without the life lessons, the confidence, and the friendship and companionship you have given me the past years.
Thank you for letting me be a part of your family.