On our first day of camp, I was informed that our pit instructor, Chris Martin, would no longer be teaching at our high school, and that we were unable to obtain a replacement. With the other upperclassmen on the drumline, or the snares, bass drums and quads that march on the field, I was the oldest pit member, and the most knowledgeable in the way pit-percussion operated. With three new freshmen, one of whom had never played an instrument in his life, and two sophomores, everyone in the pit looked to me for guidance. With no professional pit instructor available, I was asked to teach the pit. Although the task felt overwhelming at the time, I accepted and made the best of my situation. On that first day of camp, I didn’t know how to start. My first thoughts were, “my god, what have I gotten myself into?” Eventually, I was able to clear my head, and I remembered back to my freshman year, when I was still a rookie. Thinking back on my own instruction, I began to teach the way Chris had taught me: we started with the basics and worked our way up.
We began with scales on the mallet instruments, and I taught everyone how to properly use the different gadgets within the pit. With the majority of the students being highly inexperienced, several