50 Harvard Essays

Essays are for reference only. Do NOT copy or imitate anything! 
Plagiarism is severely punished! 
into any essay of this form. The challenge is to identify and highlight conclusions 
unique to the situation. 
 
 
 
“One Hundred Pairs of Eyes” 
“One Hundred Pairs of Eyes” 
--by Patricia M. Glynn 
Awareness. An awareness that all eyes from one hundred yards of green grass are 
focused on a certain point in space is what drives through my thoughts as I stand 
poised. These eyes disregard the peripheral chatter of spectators, the cold wind 
whistling in the night air around them, and the harshness of the white lights over the 
field. They focus only on this one spot before my hands and, to begin their show, 
they wait for a simple motion, a mere flick of the wrist. As a tingling sensation arises 
in my fingertips, I lift my hands in preparation. One hundred pairs of eyes breathe 
in unison across the hundred yards, and my hands descend in a practiced pattern 
toward that one point in space. It is that point where the hundred pairs of eyes 
release their breath into their various instruments, where the music is created, and 
where the show begins. 
This experience is one that I get to relive every Friday night while conducting the 
Plymouth High School marching band in its weekly half-time performance for the 
football fans. While I have performed as one of the pairs of eyes, as conductor and 
Senior Drum major I feel a greater part of the show than I ever did before. I feel 
every note and every phrase of music from every instrument, and I pull even more 
music from those instruments. Their intensity is sparked from my intensity, and 
mine builds on theirs. The intensity is not only from the music; it comes from the 
eyes. It’s my eyes scanning the field, scouting for problems, and brokering 
confidence that command an intensity in response. This is the greatest feeling in the 
world. 
As my motions become larger and larger and my left hand pushes upward, I demand 
volume from the band while it crescendos toward its final notes. Building volume 
and drive, this music sends a tingling sensation from my fingertips through my 
wrists and pulsing through my body. My shoulders ache but keep driving the beat, 
and my emotions are keyed up. As the brass builds and the band snaps to attention 
in the last picture of the show, the percussion line pushes the music with a driving 
hit. Musicians and conductor alike climax with the music until reaching that same 
instant in time. With a rigorous closing of my fists, the music stops, but the eyes 
hold their focus, instruments poised, until a smile stretches across my face and my 
features relax, tingling with pent up emotion. Applause. 

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