Sunday, November 16, 2025
An Open Letter to My Daughter and the Flower Mound Marching Band
To the incredible students, parents, and staff of the Flower Mound Marching Band,
First, let me say this: I am so proud of you. Proud beyond words, beyond trophies, beyond rankings. What you have accomplished this season is nothing short of extraordinary. You reached the highest levels of competition in the nation—a stage where only the best dare to stand. That alone speaks volumes about your talent, your dedication, and your relentless pursuit of excellence.
As you make your journey home, remember that this year, you didn’t just compete—you dominated. You earned victories at BOA Mid-Regional, Super Regionals, and UIL contests, proving time and again that Flower Mound is a force of excellence. These achievements are monumental, and they reflect the heart and soul you pour into every rehearsal, every performance, every note.
Yes, the results of Grand Nationals were hard to swallow. It's alright to linger here for just a moment in the raw ache of it – facing that sharp sting of what should have been - because pretending it doesn’t hurt would dishonor the fire you’ve all poured into this. It does hurt. It’s okay to let that soreness settle, to rage a little at the unfairness, to wonder “why not us?” in the dark hours. I’ve seen your faces—my daughter’s, etched with the quiet/not-so-quiet fury of someone who gave everything; my bandmates’, streaked with sweat and unshed tears; our parents’, lined with the exhaustion of endless drop-off/pickups and midnight rehearsals; our staff’s, shadowed by the weight of guiding stars toward a sky that sometimes feels rigged. We lost. And that truth is a bruise we carry together. Many of us believe the outcome was unfair, the scores that didn’t add up, the whispers of bias hanging in the air like a sour note, the collective gasp from a nation of watchers who saw what we saw: your precision carving through the night like a comet’s tail, your visuals painting stories that tugged at heartstrings we didn’t even know were there, your music wrapping around us like a warm embrace on a chilly November evening. Flower Mound didn’t just perform—you transcended. And in the quiet aftermath, as the lights dimmed and the confetti fell for another, the world murmured what our hearts screamed: you should have held that trophy high. But here’s the truth: no panel of judges, no score sheet, no trophy defines your worth. You are champions—not because someone hands you an award, but because you carry the mindset of a champion. And that mindset will stay with you for life.
Being a champion is not about a single victory. It’s about resilience. It’s about getting up when life knocks you down. It’s about fighting for what you believe in, even when the odds seem stacked against you. Sometimes hard work brings success. Sometimes luck plays a role. And sometimes, even when you get everything right, the outcome isn’t what you hoped for. Every challenge strengthens character. Every setback makes you stronger. Every scar becomes a story of perseverance.
I’ll never forget the first time I truly understood what you took part in. It was the night parents were invited to preview your performance. I walked in expecting something good—but what I saw left me stunned. I was shocked, amazed, and had to fight to hold back tears. That same emotion returned when I watched you perform at Grand Nationals. It was a feeling I’ve never had watching any other band program. And to be fair, maybe bias played a part—but that doesn’t change the truth: what you created was breathtaking.
This year, you showed the world what a class act looks like. We congratulate Avon High School on their win—because that’s what champions do. And Flower Mound? You are the definition of grace, strength, and unity. You didn’t just perform—you inspired. You reminded us all that the journey matters more than the destination.
The reason we invest time, money, and effort into this program isn’t for a trophy. It’s for life experiences—the kind that shape who you are and who you will become. Marching in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade last year, performing at Grand Nationals this year—these are moments that will live in your hearts forever. Like those Picasso paintings, they are part of the mosaic of your life, forming the foundation of your future.
To the parents and staff: thank you for your sacrifices, your time, and your unwavering support. You are the backbone of this program. From early mornings to late nights, from fundraising to logistics, from encouragement to mentorship—you make these dreams possible. Your love and dedication have created an environment where excellence thrives, and for that, we are forever grateful.
To the students: you are gifted beyond measure. You are blessed with talent, drive, and courage. And we, as parents, are blessed to witness your growth. I love you, and I cannot wait to see what you achieve—not just in music, but in education, friendships, love, family, career, and the legacy you will leave behind. Carry this mindset with you because this weekend you proved it: you are champions, always. Live like it, and you will win—not just on the field, but in every facet of life.
And never forget the words that define your school:
“A world-class school educating tomorrow’s leaders.” You are those leaders. You’ve proven it already.
“Champions keep playing until they get it right.” – Billie Jean King
With pride and admiration (…and you’re relieved of dish-duty - but just tonight 😉),
Mom & Dad
