grad band.

Pomp and Circumstance: Edward Elgar’s most widely known work, played at high school and college graduations all over North America. This evening’s event is the former, and the seniors, soon-to-be freshmen, march forward, over three hundred strong. They walk forward, roughly a foot of space between each one, eager to sit, stand, grab their diploma, and march right on out of there, smiling all the way.

The band is located behind the audience, shielded from the graduates by thirty rows of chairs. Each band member has been specially outfitted for the occasion in navy pants, white dress shirt, and garishly yellow tie. Somewhere within this group of students, awkward freshmen, cynical sophomores, and envious juniors is a story.

On the left of the high school band lies the woodwind section. As the graduation song passes the three-quarter mark three students can be seen, far left side, front row. They all wear the same attire as the rest of the band, and stand out merely because they are closest to the audience.

Farthest from the left is the only female of the group, shoulders slightly bent, hands lightly holding the oboe she’s playing. Her light brown hair is tied back into a simple ponytail, and her legs are crossed. Although her eyes are fixed on the music stand, a smile plays about her lips. There’s a joke that only she knows.

To her right is a tall boy, slouched over so far that the bottom of his clarinet is inches from the floor. He wears large, brown boots, his left foot lying so that its ankle is on the ground, his right foot on top of it. The music stand blocks off his face, but his fingers work the keys with practiced skill.

At the very corner sits the next musician, back ramrod straight. The clearly Asian boy seems to notice nothing but the music, and his eyes never stray once. His legs bob up and down, his toes pushing against the floor, left and right, on and on. His pants are clearly too short for him, and each bob reveals stretches of white sock.