Band. One of the only enjoyable things to do in middle school for me. Sadly, also one of the most dramatic things that has happened to me. Before I joined band back in 6th grade, I didn’t have many friends. I was lonely most of the time. After meeting a friend who was in band, they told me about how great it was. This influenced me to join the next year in 7th grade, partially due to the fact a lot of my family members also play instruments. My grandpa can play the drums, my uncle can play the electric guitar, and my mom used to play the flute. When I joined and tried playing percussion, my mentor told me I was one of the best percussionists. It would be revealed later on that this compliment was probably given to me because he had a huge crush on me, which you would think was a good thing, but no. Unfortunately, this specific person would make me feel uncomfortable and would be really physical, which was unsettling. This horrible experience has made me become more distant from males in general, and has solidified my stance in embracing my identity as gay.

Having to deal with being in beginning band means that everyone doesn't get to do as much stuff as the advanced and intermediate band. As a percussionist, we don’t get to play in every single song. Although it seemed fair, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit left out. I felt especially left out when there were a lot more percussionists who had more parts than I did. I couldn’t wait to be in intermediate band, until I told my friends that I didn’t like my mentor back. Days went by with more physical touching, until one of my friends decided to tell him the truth. They told my mentor that I didn’t like him back. Even though this was true, it caused everything for me to go downhill. He started to become distant and I really felt his cold shoulder. Before I knew it, I didn’t have a mentor to teach me new things anymore. I was too scared to ask any of the other mentors for help, so I forced myself to learn my parts on my own. Looking back on this, I am glad to have taught myself how to play. I saved myself from looking like a fool during our performances, but it still felt unfair. He started to teach other people more than what I knew. I felt so left behind, afraid to be the only one who didn’t know how to play everything. It felt like I was being punished for being true to my own feelings instead of behaving the way that someone with power over me wanted to behave.

Despite this experience, I have continued band in 8th grade. Ultimately, things did not get better. With the shadow of my mentor gone, I still have to deal with sometimes rude and racist behavior. I’ve been called a “chink” or “monkey” as a “joke,” but I’m beyond caring about it. Whenever I want help from the other percussionists, I hear the response “that sounds like a you problem” or “I don’t care.” This is what life is like in band, everyday, for me at least. Despite these negative experiences, I still enjoy playing in band because it’s something I’m now good at doing. Something I brought myself up from such a negative involvement, allowing me to be a better mentor to people who are joining band in their 6th or 7th year. Unlike my predecessor, I will be a good mentor to other people, regardless of other people's horrible behavior towards me. I will keep working on my own skills, and hope that someday, I can get good enough to duet with my uncle who plays the electric guitar.

© Caelyn. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.