In today’s world, it’s easy to be caught up in negativity. We experience mass shootings in the United States almost daily. The great talking points of politics seem to divide us more and more along ethnic, racial, and religious lines. Even something as simple as helping those in need can be scrutinized in a hellish fashion.

But there is a safe haven. A little known activity that exists on the fringes of our society. An activity that, as far as I am concerned, the rest of the world could stand to learn from. Drum corps. I’m not talking about the Rock’s new show coming out next month (though I’m more than excited to see how that plays out). I’m definitely not saying we should all drop what we’re doing, grab the nearest trumpet, and march down Main playing Stars and Stripes Forever. But what I am saying is we should take a look at the norms of the activity and wonder why they aren’t normal in the rest of our society or why it’s taken the time it has for these norms to establish themselves.

In my two years with the Colts Drum and Bugle Corps out of Dubuque, IA, I was introduced to many ideas that I never would have thought about if not for my time in the activity. I was raised in a mixed family of Cuban immigrants and Mississippi natives, leading to a fairly conservative lifestyle in which the ideas of the Republican Party and the Catholic Church were law. So hearing things such as ‘marriage equality’ and ‘religious tolerance’ were, though not new thoughts, more widely accepted than I had previously imagined. Even harder to understand was how these people, high school and college students between 15 and 22, could be so insightful when compared to some of our leading political figures. Better yet, how they could be so compassionate to absolute strangers and so supportive of ideas which had zero bearing on their lifestyle and promised absolutely no benefit to them.

I recall, rather negatively, a three day span in late June of 2015. Housed at Evansville South HS, in Evansville, IN, we were on and off the field regularly to hydrate in the 103 degree heat. Schedule changes had moved our lunch back almost 2 hours without our knowledge and bickering was incessant. Quip after quip was followed by ‘reset’ or ‘pain device’ from the box. Several individuals were struggling as we continued to grind through the pain, sweat, and hunger. But one water break quickly changed the tone of rehearsal. My section leader at the time, Erwin, a giant of a Dane, announced the outcome of what was perhaps the legal and social victory of the year, if not the new millennium: Obergefell v. Hodges. Gay marriage was now legal across the country. We had a couple of individuals in the color guard who were directly affected, but for the corps as a whole, this announcement was so incredibly trivial that we should have taken as much notice as the ants on the field. But there was applause. Cheering. Shouting. Happiness and hugging. Here were people, who so loved each other and cared for people at large, that they were celebrating FOR others. For a change. Even those who were members of the inter-corps Christian group, Box 7 Ministries, were in the middle of the hugs. It continued to be a talking point for several hours and lifted our spirits in a way that seemed to make the number on the thermometer disappear.

I continued that summer for another week before tearing my meniscus. Returning to the Colts to age out (you can only compete in the activity until 21) this summer, I imagined what it would mean to finish a season. I imagined the glory and excitement of being one of the elite finalists. The top 12 drum corps in the world. What I could never know is how much the men and woman that I marched with on the tuba line would come to mean so much to me. 4 familiar faces and 10 strangers that, by the end of the summer, I would come to love and miss unconditionally. Because there’s only one thing you take away from drum corps: the people. The activity teaches you to care for others and pushes you to meet new people in a way that nothing else ever could.

We struggle so much in this world to be the best athlete, or the greatest thinker, or the most successful businessman. But we often forget about the human element. We forget to love our friends as family and strangers as our friends. Something that drum corps and my family at the Colts taught me how to do over two long summers in Iowa.