“Brooke, you’re up next.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I nodded in response. I stepped onto the podium and looked out at 800 eyes staring back at me. Quickly, I turned away to observe the A-Day game and avoid these hypercritical stares. I felt nervous, but I had prepared for this exact moment: the moment when I would audition to become a drum major for the Million Dollar Band.
I watched as the team advanced ten yards. First down. I turned while holding up the signal for the First Down Cheer and waited for the announcement to come: “First down Alabama! I blew the whistle and began to conduct the band while keeping an eye on the game. The player bent down to snap the ball, and I held up the signal for the band to stop. I exaggerated my conducting pattern and cut the band off in the middle of the song. After a few more minutes of conducting, it was over. I stepped down from the podium and nervously waited for my next turn.
A few weeks later, I heard my phone buzz and saw an email titled, “Million Dollar Band Leadership Team 2021-2022.” Holding my breath, I opened the email and searched for my name. I eventually found it, but not under drum major as I had hoped. Rather, I would become a Clarinet Section Leader.
Admittedly I was disappointed, but also excited about the upcoming season. As section leader, I would work with others to develop our peers, both musically and in marching technique. In this position, I was put in uncomfortable situations that helped me become a better leader.
During this time, we watched fans rush the field at College Station, Texas, we marched down the streets of New York City for the Macy’s Day Parade and made it home just in time to cheer on the Tide as they took the Iron Bowl victory in overtime. Not only did I make amazing memories, the entire season served as preparation for the next time I would step to the podium to try out for drum major.
“Brooke, you’re up next.”
A year later, the same words were repeated to me, but this time, they felt entirely different. The words were heavier because I knew this was my last chance; but in a way it felt less daunting because of my preparation the previous year. When I received the email weeks later, I once again held my breath, but this time, I found my name under a different title: drum major.
Months later, I looked into a sea of orange at Neyland Stadium in Knoxville, Tennessee. As I was getting ready to march onto the field as drum major to bring out the Million Dollar Band for our performance, I heard a roar from the stadium. But it wasn’t cheers—I was being booed by Tennessee fans!
I marched to the middle of the field, but I did not feel a sense of humiliation. Instead, I felt pride for The University of Alabama and the opportunities my university had given me—even the opportunity to be booed by the hundred-thousand strong!
At the final home game of the season, I stepped onto the podium with the other senior drum major to continue the tradition of conducting the band while singing the Alma Mater. We counted off the song together and sang,
Alabama, listen, Mother,
To our vows of love,
To thyself and to each other,
Faithful friends we’ll prove.
While singing the lyrics, I reminisced on my time at Alabama: performing every Saturday for 100,000 people, screaming along while conducting “Rammer Jammer,” performing our mace routine in front of thousands, rehearsing for hours, traveling the country, and celebrating every win with the team.
I thought about the lifelong friendships I built with directors, members, and the three other drum majors. As these thoughts coursed through my mind, I looked at the four hundred friends staring back at me and sang,
Faithful, loyal, firm and true,
Heart bound to heart will beat.
Year by year, the ages through
Until in Heaven we meet.
We turned towards each other, smiling, and ended the tradition by yelling, “What do we say at Alabama?” and the four hundred members of the Million Dollar Band yelled back in unison:
“Roll Tide!” TG
Images by Ryan McGill and courtesy Brooke Elder
