It's a hot day in August. Students are lined up. They have gone at least two miles on the city streets. They are tired, they are sweating. Their backs and knees are hurting. Their mouths are dry, and they badly need a drink of water. One student had an asthma attack already this week. Other students are complaining that they are tired of moving and that they need a break. Still, to them, it's just another day at marching band practice. In high school and college, my fellow band members and I spent hours on the field preparing for marching band competitions, parades, and half time shows at football games. I remember running half the distance of the track just to get in line in time for the half-time show after cheering the rest of the game. Our band was one of the best in the area, and we proudly wore our gold wool uniforms and the gold hats with white plumes. We were very serious. Each step, each moment was important. Each one of us hoped we wouldn't be that on
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