普羅沃高中如何邁向州錦標賽的榮耀

What does it take to stand tall as a State Marching Band Champion? What does a day in the life of a marching band student look like?

“Sometimes it’s 20 degrees outside, my valves are freezing, and spit is coming out of the bottom of my instrument.”

That’s how Mackenzie, the drum major for the Provo High School Marching Band, describes any given fall practice– it’s a side of Marching Band rarely spoken about, but we think it’s a perfectly suited quote regarding the UHSAA 4A State Marching Band Finals. Each student, regardless of experience or position, fought tooth, nail, and bone in their march towards finals. She continued:

“You know, marching band isn’t always easy, but it can be a lot easier when you’re enjoying time with good people.”

And it was from the efforts of these many students that Provo High made their mark– top marks.

This year, Provo High swept the competition by earning top marks in music, visual, and percussion. But, as Mackenzie’s comment alludes to, it wasn’t an easy win.

Just one year ago, they placed second, edged out by Ridgeline High School, a powerhouse that had dominated the circuit. This year’s triumph is a story about overcoming failure to come together, sharpen your edges, and claw your way to the top together.

The students behind this victory come from diverse musical beginnings.

For some, band was a family expectation. “I have five siblings who all did music,” Mackenzie explains. “It was just what you were expected to do.” For others, music was discovered by chance. Eleanor Wardell, the flute section leader, recalls seeing someone play the flute as a child and having “stars in her eyes.” Jared Busker, a trumpet player, describes himself as initially curious: “I was like, ‘What’s marching band?’”

Hany Alvarado, a sophomore who moved to Utah from Honduras just over a year ago, had no background in music before joining the band. “Yo realmente no sabía nada de música… pero aprendí tanto en tan poco tiempo.”

“I didn’t understand anything at first, but I learned so much in such a short time.”

Elisa, another Spanish-speaking student, echoed her friend ‘s sentiments: “Aprender a tocar un instrumento y leer las notas fue difícil, pero lo logré en menos de una semana.”

“Learning to play an instrument and read notes was hard, but I started learning to do so in less than a week.”

Provo High’s Marching Band is as exemplary of the rich, cultural tapestry of Provo High itself– and it was by each person’s efforts that their Marching Band took state. Not that they didn’t have their lion’s share of setbacks.

Winning a marching band championship demands more than any one person’s musical skill. As Eleanor puts it, “you have to learn how to walk differently.” Marching isn’t just movement; it’s precision. Each member has a designated “dot”—a specific spot on the field they must hit at precisely the right moment. “You don’t just walk around,” Eleanor explains. “You have to learn how far to step, how to line up perfectly, and how to trust the people around you to hit their spots, too.”

These dots come together to form intricate pictures—triangles, circles, squares—that can only be appreciated from above, where judges watch from “the box.” Performing to the box is its own challenge: “You have to play to the box so the judges can see every move you make. You have to make your motions obvious,” Eleanor says. Beyond marching, students act, dance, and tell a story through their body movements. “It’s like geometry– but harder.”

Rain, snow, and freezing temperatures only add to the onslaught of challenges. The weeks leading up to State tested the band’s resolve. Rain, snow, and freezing temperatures forced them off their instruments. “We had to put our woodwinds away,” Eleanor explains. “You can’t play outside when it rains.” Branson Allphin, a baritone player, remembers the pressure of that final week: “Tensions were high because we knew we had to lock in.”

On the day of State, Branson sprinted to a pose, his knee buckling in the cold. “I had to march the rest of our three movements with a cramp and knee pain,” he says. But quitting wasn’t an option: “But I got up and played it off. I couldn’t let my band down.”

Band Director Deven Halcolmb knew they were asking a lot of their students, pushing them to rehearse in tough weather. “They were marching in the snow, which felt a little evil at the time,” he says, chuckling. “But we needed that practice.” The payoff came in their visual score, an area they had struggled with all season. Halcolmb watched the students improve in leaps and bounds: “To see all that work come together was so rewarding.” And from the looks on the students’ faces as he recounted this story, there was no doubt it was true.

Throughout the season, Provo’s scores hovered just shy of Skyview’s dominance, ending their season narrowly in second place. At the end of the season, the gap closed dramatically. At the start of the season, Provo trailed by as much as ten points—a daunting margin. But through relentless practice, their scores began to climb. By the final weeks, they were neck and neck with Skyview, often trailing by mere fractions of a point. At State, Provo delivered a performance so sharp and unified that their score leapt to 71.763, overtaking Skyview’s drop to 70. “It’s hard to wrap your head around,” Jared Busker explains. “At most competitions, you work for a one- or two-point improvement in a week. We jumped three points at State. It was wild.”

At State, Provo delivered a near-perfect performance. Mackenzie recounts the suspense of the awards ceremony: “Last year, we got second place after taking first all season. It felt so wrong.” This time, they took nothing for granted. When Provo earned the percussion caption—the first award of the night—Mackenzie was stunned. “I said, ‘Hold on a second. You said what?’” One by one, the captions fell: visual, then music. “I started yelling at my friend,” Mackenzie said. “We just took State, baby!”

Provo’s victory wasn’t just about winning. Sky View had pushed them all year, forcing them to improve. Mackenzie describes the camaraderie that exists even in competition: “After awards, one of Sky View’s drum majors came up to me and said, ‘Hey, that was a great show.’ And I told him, ‘Thank you. If it weren’t for that fight, I wouldn’t have been able to get my band to beat you guys.’”

For many students, this season has been transformative. Jared, who served as a section leader, discovered a love for leadership. “It felt good to unify everyone,” he says. “I learned that I like teaching. I learned that I can lead.”

Eleanor, who battled anxiety to perform her flute solo in front of thousands of onlookers, found new confidence by overcoming the challenge: “I learned I can do more than I think I can,” Eleanor reflects. “I learned I could overcome anxiety and other mental barriers to do my best.”

In the end, it’s about more than trophies. As Mackenzie says, “It’s the memories we made. We left that field knowing we gave it everything we had.”

It is the result of hundreds of hours spent drilling dots on a frozen field, breath fogging the air, feet sinking into slush as they fought for precision. It’s the product of countless moments of frustration—valves freezing, knees buckling, instruments silenced by rain—and the unspoken promise that no matter the obstacle, every member would hold the line for their fellow bandmates.

Despite the challenge that comes with competition, each student recommends the experience to interested students, noting that this is a single step in their musical journey.

“I want to keep learning,” Hany said, “because I enjoy making music and getting to know other people; it’s something very beautiful. And I would recommend it to anyone– even if you are shy. Because I’m very shy. And I don’t know how I got myself into this– but I learned so much.”

We thank our students for allowing us a visit, and thank Deven and our many fine arts staff members across the district who take the time to gather and raise our students up.