I am sick of the dirty looks for being on drumline.
I should not be called a slut when I choose to wear my drumline hoodie. It’s my body, I earned my hoodie!
I should have never been questioned multiple times in middle school for carrying my drumsticks in the hall to the band room,when a friend next to me was carrying his and didn’t get questioned for carrying a “weapon.”
“Like a girl” should not be used as an insult for my musical talents.
I shouldn’t have to deal with the bullshit of people telling me that I will never be able to march drum corps because I have boobs!
I am tired of people doubting my abilities because of my gender.
I should not have people looking down on me in the lot at a competition.
“Oh you will never get a boyfriend since you are on drumline. Boys like quiet,reserved,ladylike girls. All you do is hit shit and hangout with guys!” Excuse me, is this the 1900s? I’ll hangout with who I want whether that be guys or girls. I’ll hit shit with the support of my boyfriend for your information.
I should not be questioned when going to get my varsity jacket that I’m a girl on drumline by a grown woman.
Being a girl who is a percussionist should not define me in a negative way.
I need feminism because all I want is to be treated as an equal…not just a girl.
Summary: “I honestly couldn’t have finished the show without you.”
The lights flashed brightly, displaying red and white across the ecstatic crowd of people. It was near midnight, but you felt as if you had just woken up. It was the third time listening to the same set list backstage, but each and every time the songs were played it was like an energy electrified them with a new power. You could feel the sound of the drums resonating, which sent chills up your spine.
Mark, a family friend, made a few connections and got you on board for a small nationwide tour with a band that just so happened to be your favorite – Twenty One Pilots. You grew up a few doors down from him and your families became close friends over time. It wasn’t until recently that you reconnected, turned out he still acted the same and your friendship continued as if nothing had separated the childhood bond. In honor of your nineteenth birthday your parents were allowing you a year of traveling before college, thus allowing you this first freedom away from home.