Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story. 650 words
"Alright, kids, again!" the band director announced. "C'mon, run to your dot, we haven't got all day!" I saw kids limp to their sets, hearing a few mutter "I feel fantastic" with disgusting amounts of sarcasm. I lightly jogged to where I was supposed to be, shook out the sweat and soreness, got into attention, and yelled, "Get there and get set!" It was only a few moments later when the tapping of a snare drum began the next rep.
The late July sun was unforgiving. It scorched the grass field below it with its ninety degree heat and could blind with its overpowering shine. There wasn't a cloud to screen the sun's rays or a breeze to mitigate its radiance for even a moment. Yet, I never stopped marching, never broke attention. My head stayed up and my eyes stayed filled with conviction, always gazing out into the horizon. My legs kept moving and my toes stayed pointed upwards, always marching forward.
Was the rehearsal miserable? Definitely. Was the rehearsal necessary? Absolutely. Was the rehearsal fun? Maybe for the first few weeks.
Everything is or has a process. For every accomplishment or award, there must be something to be done to attain it. Some processes last for a couple of hours, some last for several years. Sometimes, the process will be fun at first. Perhaps someone walks their dog for the first time, and they'll love the fresh air, the beautiful scenery, and the soothing serenity. A few months later, they'll be complaining about the cold morning air, their companions defecating on their neighbors' lawns, and their dog chasing after cars. For them, it's all a process of getting themselves and their dogs fit. Yet, it didn't take long for them to forget about the goal and loathe the process.
People tell me that I can be stubborn. They tell me about how I'll staunchly defend my views and values, how I'll spend hours on end focused on a single job in mind, not relenting until I finish. They wonder how I can go at such arduous tasks without having my spirits broken. The answer is simple: I always remind myself of the reason I indulge myself in these processes, of the rewards and spoils that await me on the other side of the dark and dreary tunnel of work and procedure.
During my freshman year, I was part of the school's winter drumline. People that I worked with came for the process, trying to ease the pressure of attaining the intended goal, and losing sight of the goal they had signed up for. But not me. I whacked long and hard on my vibraphone until my hands were sore, whacked until I had some blisters popping up, whacked until I had to cover my fingers in Band-Aids, then whacked until the rehearsal ended. That year, we were so close to getting a taste of finals at the national event. The few hours spent on the charter bus afterwards stuck to me: people sobbed, people glared in anger, people stared vacantly in denial. But not me. I didn't let this "defeat" deter me from getting better. So, I put that year as part of the process and worked on helping others remember their goals. The following season, I shared the thrill of my ensemble when we heard we had become finalists. We wouldn't have been able to attain it a year ago. Not when we neglected the process.
Today, I help as a leader to get others through their processes. I remind them to respect the process, to always keep their goal in mind. As for me, I never stopped marching, never broke out of attention. My head is still up and my eyes are full of conviction, still gazing out into the horizon. My legs keep moving and my toes stay pointed upwards, and still I march forward.
