I love the message in Theodore Roosevelt’s The Man in the Arena. His eloquent words embody my feelings regarding competition. He said:
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
For 30 years I was blessed to work with students “daring greatly,” students who withstood incredible challenges, who stumbled, failed, and triumphed together as they worked to create and share a masterpiece. They didn’t choose the safety of the sideline. Instead they chose to enter the arena, a place where failure at some point was a probability. Even knowing that the desired trophy was likely out of reach, they still dared to enter—and they weren’t alone. Each fall they joined with hundreds of thousands of high school students across the country who also made the choice to be in a competitive marching band.
One may ask, “Why do you compete? Why subject yourself to a panel of subjective judges? Why not just put together a show for football halftimes and call it good?”
Avoiding competition is obviously the easier path, and the one with less opportunity for failure. But as Douglas Malloch pointed out, “Good timber does not grow with ease, the stronger the wind the stronger the trees.” In other words, we are defined by the depth of the challenges we face in life. I have literally watched bands perform in “strong wind” reaching 70 miles per hour, but weather is just one obstacle they may need to face.
For some, just marching in step is a huge challenge. For others the challenge may be simply finding time to get homework completed for multiple honors courses. In fact, for many teenagers marching band is the hardest thing they have ever done in their life. A student of mine once described marching band, and specifically being drum major, as “the toughest thing I have ever had to do, but also the most rewarding.”
With all this in mind, why do so many teenagers join marching band? If you asked ten kids you would probably get ten different answers, but one reason may be that they have discovered that the hard things provide the greatest reward. Regardless of the reason, the life lessons are numerous. Following are just a few:
No matter what arena you enter, there will always be someone sitting on the sidelines ready to criticize your work. Don’t listen.
There are multiple definitions to winning. Taking first place is one of them. Completing a masterpiece you are proud of is a better one.
The trophy isn’t important. Doing your best is. Doing less than your best may still result in a trophy. Hold yourself to a standard that is higher than a piece of plastic.
Accomplishing hard things prepares you for harder things.
Always remember how much courage it takes to enter the arena. Show genuine respect and support for your fellow competitors both on and off the field.
