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By Kathleen Walker Azevedo ‘77 My pride as a Cal alum and the joy of motherhood came together in a rush of emotion at last year’s first football game. While the fans cheered for the Band’s flying wedge and the “Cal” spell-out, my husband Steve and I wept with pride. The story really starts in the fall of 1973, when I was one of the first women to join the Cal Band. It may be hard to believe that as recently as the 1970s the Cal Band did not allow women. Formed in 1891, the University Band is steeped in history and tradition; it remains, for example, one of the few bands in the nation that marches the demanding high-step form. When I was admitted to Cal in 1973, there was sincere and virulent opposition to having women in the Band. But I knew none of this history. Having marched previously in Memorial Stadium at a High School Band Day, I just knew I wanted to play in the Cal Band. I expected to have fun, as I did in my small-town high school band...but I had no idea what was coming. I made the near-terminal mistake of wearing a red outfit to the first day of the rigorous Fall Training Program, or FTP. The “old men” (upperclass Band members) surrounded me and sang “Lady in Red” until my face matched my clothes. I promptly removed all red from my wardrobe and became even more determined to make the cut. Training was brutal: ardent upperclassmen yelled in my face for missing a turn or forming a crooked diagonal. All week my legs were sore from high-stepping and my arms burned from crashing the cymbals.
It was only later that I found out I was in the inaugural class of women. The San Francisco Chronicle sports section ran an article about this milestone with my photo, captioned: “Another victory for women libbers.” That generated a big laugh from my sorority sisters, though I’m sure it had the Band’s old guard choking. As it turned out, I survived those first few weeks and more. I traveled across the country on the Band’s 1976 Bicentennial Tour, and made many friendships among Bandsmen that continue to this day. (They are still all “Bandsmen,” no matter what gender.) Fast forward to 2001. Though separated in age by a year, our sons Tony and Ben were becoming college freshmen at the same time. Admittedly, we dressed them in blue and gold at an early age and took them along to many games (where they were frightened by the cannon blasts), but we urged our children to go to whatever university was best for them. They allowed us to think they were considering other colleges and, when their acceptances to Cal came in, they both carefully weighed their options...and chose Berkeley. And both of them chose to join the Band. One day during FTP, I ferried some forgotten items up to Berkeley and found the boys at the practice field. Watching with some nervousness, I had to avert my eyes on occasion as the practice looked a bit like the Keystone Cops. I was not at all sure the Band would be ready in a week for its first game. But, as it does every year, the Band’s sharp entrance on that hot September afternoon proved that it truly is “the best damned band in the land.” I’m not sure whether it was pride in our sons or in the University we love so much that caused my husband and me to break out in tears. There is nothing like the mid-field explosion and the Band flooding out of the North Tunnel to get any alumnus stirred up. But this was something different, something special: a literal passing on of a University tradition to the next generation of the Berkeley “family.” Tony and Ben were so nervous that I doubt they recognized it at the time; but I know they, too, will always remember that day. We invite alumni to write about their Cal experiences for “Recalling Cal,” California Monthly, Alumni House, Berkeley 94720. Contributors will be paid $100 upon publication. Back to Top |
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