Forward/Still

When I see what the brave people of Minnesota are doing to resist fascism, sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough. I write and protest. I make phone calls to my reps and senators, and with a shaky voice I demand better for our state. I volunteer and make posters. But some days, it doesn’t feel like enough. Does it even matter? Am I making a difference?

Over the weekend, I attended the Seminole County All-County Honor Band concert for middle and high school musicians; my son played in the high school ensemble.  Each of the bands played five songs, and the talented student musicians in Seminole County never fail to impress. This year was no exception.

One of the pieces the high school ensemble performed was written by the contemporary, award-winning composer Omar Thomas. The first time I’d encountered Thomas’s music was two years ago when my son performed Of Our New Day Begun at the Florida All-State convention. This gorgeous, haunting, and hopeful piece honored the nine people gunned down in an act of domestic terrorism at the historic Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. An emotional journey through pain and horror to grace and forgiveness, Of Our New Day Begun is rooted in the traditions of the Black American church and incorporates parts of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” also known as the Black National Anthem.

Having purchased the recording of this song, I’ve listened to it at least a hundred times. And every time it makes me cry. I highly recommend listening to it during this bleak time in our nation’s history.

Political songs help ground us. They motivate us. They move us. They connect us to our emotions and to one another. We turn to music and art during tumultuous times because it’s the artists who capture moments and feelings when words fail us. My son and I have discussed this often – how writing and music, poetry and dance are acts of resistance. How now, more than ever, we need the artists to give voice to the voiceless through melodies, rhythms, and chants of rage and refusal. How the artists are the tuning forks of a people, resonating with our collective hope, our relentless, chronic insistence that we can make a better world for everyone.

My son shared our conversations during a rehearsal break with the conductor for the All-County concert, Dr. Cheldon Williams. Together they discussed the current moment we’re living in and the importance of political music. Dr. Williams told my son he was planning to read Omar Thomas’s program note to the audience before the band played the piece Forward/Still. He postulated that it might upset some folks, but he was going to do it anyway. My son agreed and shared with Dr. Williams my love of Thomas’s music. “My mom is a social activist,” he explained.

I would never characterize myself as a social activist. I’ve never been tear-gassed or arrested. Every time I call to protest yet another horrible bill in the Florida legislature, my voice shakes and my palms sweat. There are days I’m so overcome with sadness and disbelief that I hide in my bed and zone out to episodes of The Great British Baking Show.

But this weekend, as I listened to young musicians play moving music something shifted in me. I realized that small acts of resistance do matter. I was reminded that our children are always watching us, noticing, and absorbing how we’re meeting this moment. I remembered that fascism isn’t defeated by a few, brave heroes, but by millions of ordinary people who have shaky voices and sweaty palms. If we all do what we can, if we all inch toward a better future together, if we pool our resources, and if we join our voices in chants of rage and refusal

WE. WILL. WIN.