I joined the drum line as a practicing percussionist with a week before the first marching band performance of the season. Between classes and homework I managed to learn the required crash cymbal parts for the half time show (the first performance of the band). Five days before our first performance the band director came up to me and asked if I thought I could play in the half time show. Without hesitation I said "yes!" My exclamation must have been very convincing, because he said okay great and walked away. Meanwhile inside my head I was trying to come up with solutions and work-around's for every part of the upcoming performance:
- I knew I wouldn't be able to include my guide dog in the performance, mainly because of the noise among other things. So who would be willing to watch my guide dog?
- How would I march in formation?
- How would I know when to stop, start or turn with the band while marching?
- How would I get on and off the football field without getting lost?
- How would I know if I was lined up correctly on the field in front of 10000 spectators?
- How would I travel safely and independently during these activities?
I'll stop here and explain why I immediately said "yes!" to the band director when I knew I had a half a dozen questions that I needed to answer first. I have learned by experience that if a person with a disability, like myself shows any sign of hesitation or concern the person they are talking to will most likely assume that there is a major problem and that maybe it would be best if the person with the disability doesn't do this particular part. I knew that if I didn't give my band director a confident response of "yes!" it would be very likely that he would have suggested I only play with the band during timeouts while positioned stationary in the bleachers. That is not who I am and that's not why I joined a university marching band. I have always worked hard to do what everybody else is doing, and performing in the marching band is no exception.
So to answer the above mentioned questions:
I knew I wouldn't be able to include my guide dog in the performance, mainly because of the noise among other things. So who would be willing to watch my guide dog?
This was the first and most important question I had to answer. A guide dog and handler are a team, and both parties look after each other. I knew if I couldn't safely, confidently and effectively find a suitable place for my dog, Angelina to be during performances as well as practices I simply would not be playing in the marching band until I found such a place/person. I needed my guide dog to help me get to the music building, so I couldn't leave her at home. A good acquaintance of mine lives near the university. They are well aware of the specific training and needs of a guide dog. We worked it out so we would meet before the performance and they would dog-sit Angelina while I used my white cane to get around. Afterward we would meet up and Angelina and I would go home. It is a little challenging for some guide dogs, including Angelina to randomly be separated from their handler, because a guide dog and handler are together 24/7. It's best to introduce the guide dog to the person who will be dog-sitting before hand. Let your dog-sitter take your guide dog on a little walk. This gives the dog a chance to get to know the person who will be watching them.
During marching band practice, which is held three times a week Angelina hangs out in the music department office. She would of course rather be with me, but at least the sound of 17 drummers practicing won't damage her eardrums.
How would I march in formation?
Let me just start by saying that in order to march in a marching band non visually you must be a little fearless, a little crazy and a little smart about the whole thing. Nothing is going to be perfect, but is anything perfect? I'm drawing off of knowledge that I gained from playing in the marching band in high school, as well as my determination to participate in the marching band. It is important to note that after reaching the music building and picking up my cymbals my white cane is of no use to me. I have no hands to hold it, no way to use it and nowhere to cary it on my person. From here on out I'm relying on members of the band and drum line to help me out as well as my own instincts and reflexes. When marching in formation I always try to be in the middle of the row, so I have people on each side of me to use as a reference. Often times I don't ask for verbal cues, because it's too loud and is not uniform with the rest of the band. Instead I localize the sound of the drums and cymbals beside me, in front of me and if necessary behind me. I have learned to track the sound projecting off the drums to either side of me. I aline myself with the percussionist in front of me to ensure I'm directly behind them. Again I'm localizing the sound of his or her drum. I'll admit, I'm not always perfectly in formation, but I'm usually within one or two steps to either side. Not bad; if you march in a band, try doing that with your eyes closed and see how good you are.
How would I know when to stop, start or turn with the band while marching?
If the sound moves forward, I move forward. If the sound is directly on either side of me, we have stopped marching, and I too stop. If the sound begins to shift to the left or right, the band is turning left or right. Unfortunately this set of work-arounds works best if the drum line is playing a cadence or song.
What do you do if the band is traveling? (walking silently from one place to another)
This takes yet more concentration and the use of my ears. I sometimes can hear the footsteps of the musicians around me, but more often than not I listen for the sound of creaking drum harnesses or the occasional rattling of a set of crash cymbals. nearby, and follow their sound. If I can't hear that I turn and ask somebody to please help me out.
How would I get on and off the football field without getting lost?
During the final rehearsal before our first performance the marching band practiced our formations in the empty football stadium. I knew that getting on and off the field, as well as lining up correctly would require the assistance of a sighted person. Finding such a person wouldn't be hard; there were 149 band members to choose from. However, finding a person who was comfortable assisting me, and finding a person who was actually supposed to be standing next to me during the performance would limit my selection. It's also a delicate art asking for assistance in these situations, because you don't want to make the person you are asking feel obligated or responsible for two people. I want this person to understand that I'm like everybody else, I'm a contributing member to the marching band, but I need just a little bit of sighted assistance. I didn't have to search long before I asked a fellow crash cymbal player standing next to me while in formation on the field. It quickly became apparent that we would make a good team. Unlike the rest of the band, crash cymbal players have no way to hold the sheet music while they play. The alternative? memorize! You may be thinking "crash cymbals, they sound good anywhere, and they must be so easy to play." Wrong! In order to play them correctly you have to follow the sheet music or count measures because the whole point of crash cymbals is to emphasize a specific part of the music. Miss a climax (where the volume and intensity of the music increases to the highest point in the section) and you could embarrass yourself by creating a gigantic crash on the one, silent, downbeat of the song. I'm a master at memorizing and counting, so I could help the crash cymbal player next to me remember the part. In return they would assist me on and off the field by giving me verbal directions.
How would I know if I was lined up correctly on the field in front of 10000 people?
Fortunately I joined forces with the crash cymbal player who stands next to me in formation on the football field. I instructed this person to be brutally honest, "if I'm not in line, just say so!" I said at the final practice before the first performance. This person gives me simple verbal cues while we are lining up such as:
"Take two steps to your right," or "Back up one step." When entering or leaving the stands this person simply gives me verbal cues about what's ahead like "two steps going up, then turn right and climb about twelve steps." Sighted guide is not an option; my hands are both occupied by the crash cymbals.
How would I travel safely and independently during these activities?
There is a point where I have to set my need to be independent aside while playing in the marching band. The way I see it (no pun intended!) is the whole band sticks together while we are performing, so there's no need to travel alone. It takes a great deal of mental as well as physical strength to successfully play in the marching band non visually. I have to take calculated risks, and employ every physical and mental resource as well as rely on my sighted band members for assistance. To some, it sounds radical and maybe even foolish to give up the travel aids that help me safely navigate my world in an attempt to do an activity that does not accommodate the use of these travel aids. I wouldn't have it any other way. I love playing music and it's been a long standing goal to play in a university marching band. I would rather fall down a flight of steps, injuring myself and damaging my instrument, then sit at home wishing I could participate, bound by fear of that risk.
As for the performance itself? It went off without a hitch and I felt completely natural, crashing away on the cymbals, playing my part. All of my systems, work-arounds and favors worked as I had intended them to, and to make things even better our football team won the game!
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