Dear Marching Band,

To put it simply -- thank you. Thank you for making me into the person I am today. For forcing me to bear all kinds of weather, and still be able to play my instrument. It's a skill that requires years to master.

You taught me how to have school spirit, even if it was pouring rain, 90 degrees out, or the perfect weather for a game.

You taught me how to work as a team, whether that team is made up of two people or 500 people. Even if I wasn't thinking about it, we always were a team -- everyone on that field is always a team.

You taught me that family isn't just those related to us by blood. Family can be those who spend hours upon hours playing notes at the exact same time, and walking in different directions to make shapes on the field.

Practice makes perfect. Sometimes I don't always believe that in every aspect of life, but with marching band, I believe it with everything I have. Sometimes your director yelling "One more time!" does make the difference in a show going great and going OK-ish. Meaning, it was probably a little shambly.

Patience. I never knew that patience could be so difficult when you're waiting for that clock to hit 00:00 before the halftime show, but we do.

Thank you for giving me my best friends. The ones who speak the same crazy language that I do, and who understand the feeling of having to march a halftime show when you really have to pee. The ones who will sit with me and help me memorize music or visuals.

You showed me that I can be on a bus for a ridiculous amount of time and not have a problem with it.

Most importantly, you showed me that I don't need to change who I am to fit in -- that there's a group out there who loves me for who I am, and will wear matching outfits while we do what we love.