In recent days, I’ve been doing a lot of listening. George Floyd’s murder ignited a broad conversation about systemic racism in our country, and I am deeply committed to being a part of that conversation, listening deeply, and amplifying the reality. I have been quiet for three good reasons and one bad reason:
- I always want to listen and understand before I speak.
- I am deeply introverted and mostly use my social media platform only for sharing about family and celebrating my students.
- I don’t want any friend to think that something I say was tossed off lightly, without adequate reflection.
The bad reason is that I made a rule long ago to not post about political issues because I want to be able to reach all of my students without any political divides. It should have been clearer to me sooner that writing and speaking about systemic racism in American is not a political issue, even though it’s treated that way. It’s a humanity issue.
To that end, I wanted to share what I’ve been doing, both in recent weeks and in my life journey, what I haven’t done yet, and what concrete action steps I intend to take both personally and professionally, going forward.
What I’ve been doing (recently)
First and foremost, I have been listening. I have been digging deep on social media, particularly through hashtags like #amplifymelanatedvoices and #BlackLivesMatter and by adding additional black voices into my feed. The good news is that I was already doing pretty well in following many remarkable voices; the bad news is that there were even more I wasn’t listening to, because of my bubble. My go-to method of growth is mostly reading/listening; so I’m reading anti-racism books, blog posts, Twitter threads, Facebook group posts, listening to podcasts, and basically whatever else I can find to enhance my understanding.
Second, I have been sharing. I’ve been sharing news, advice, and art. And I’ve been sharing with my own children, in the clearest possible terms, the scope of the problem and some ideas for a solution. My kids are all little idealists, so the conversations have been deep and important.
What I’ve been doing (in my life journey)
I grew up in a town notorious for its long-standing systemic racism. As the child of two progressive thinkers, I wasn’t quite as susceptible to inherited racism as some of my classmates might have been, but there was a lot to unlearn. I have been unlearning through deep reading and listening (surprise, surprise). Poetry, fiction, and non-fiction written by people of color has been a staple of my reading since high school, when I fell in love with the writing of Ralph Ellison, and the many literary windows I have looked through have been vital in my growth.
Of course, for the past quarter century I’ve also been a student of jazz, and especially jazz singing – steeping myself in a musical tradition created and perfect by African Americans. I have dug deep, studied the artists and their stories, and done my best to honor the truth of the tradition in my work.
As an educator, I have always sought to program a diverse repertoire, and to perform it authentically. I can grow in my knowledge and in my ability to communicate musical and cultural understanding with my students, but I am confident I have been on the right track here. To quote this excellent article from PBS, “As I think about what I do as an educator and as a parent, I am not 100 percent confident that my rhetoric and actions have always matched. But when I know better, I do better.”
As a commissioner of new music, I’ve worked hard to commission repertoire from under-represented communities, including black, female, LGBTQ+, and more. With the Michigan Choral Commission Consortium (MC3), I’m particularly excited to have commissioned the wonderful composer Dr. Rosephanye Powell, a black woman, to write for this year’s consortium, which is featuring women composers for all three commissions. Last year I commissioned the marvelous Stacey V. Gibbs to set a spiritual, “I Can’ Tarry”, for MC3 among two other composers. It’s not enough, but it’s been an honest and deeply held commitment. (To paraphrase something Lin-Manuel Miranda said recently, I am proud of what I have done, and I can do better. I can always do better.)
What I haven’t done yet but intend to do (My personal work)
- I haven’t yet done the work of connecting with my black students (current and former), friends, and colleagues. In recent weeks, I’ve desired introspective conversations, and have seen fellow white educators who have done this work, but I’ve held back for one big reason – I don’t want to burden them with my work when they are already carrying so many burdens in these heavy days.
- I haven’t done enough in my own community to actively engage our community’s racist history and actively move it forward. I love much about my adopted hometown, but we need to take big steps forward towards diversity in hiring, in teaching, in communicating. I have been a quiet voice when I should have been a bold voice, and my personal work is in working to use my privilege for the good of those less privileged.
- Alongside many fellow jazz & choral educators, I am committed to amplifying black voices in my music-making, by commissioning music, by hiring them for clinics and masterclasses, and by making time in my rehearsals for a broader conversation around the cultural heritage of the music we sing.
What concrete action steps I’m committing to, today.
- Speaking out. I am amending my personal social media rules in a significant way. I will continue to draw a hard line about politically partisan posts on my social media BUT I will recognize that there are many things I had previously lumped under “partisan” which belong under “human” and which merit me using my voice. (This includes not just systemic racism, but also LGBTQ+ equality, the environment, and any number of other issues. My voice is small, but I am recommitting to using it.)
- Recurring donations. I recognize that the hot-button news of today can be marginalized tomorrow as the world moves on to other breaking stories. By committing to recurring monthly donations to several organizations, I am committing to making sure this issue isn’t swept aside quite so easily.
- Seeking Teachers. I’m mindful of the gaps in my education; despite working in an African American musical tradition, I have only had, to my recollection, one African-American teacher. That teacher is one of the most remarkable teachers I ever had, the amazing Duane Davis, but one man cannot make up for a lifetime of lack. (Even my beloved African American Literature class in college was taught by a white male English professor. Oof.) As I seek mentorship and growth in my education and understanding, I will actively prioritize learning from people of color.
- More Writing. I interact with the world by writing about it, and I intend to devote more time to specifically addressing systemic racism in music and society, through personal blog posts and longer-form writing. This spring saw the publication of Feminist Fathering, a book in which I had a chapter titled “To My Son.” In the editorial process, my editor asked why I didn’t specifically touch on the intersectionality of feminism and anti-racism; I responded, genuinely, that my reflections on that topic would double the length of the chapter and merited their own piece. I’m working on that piece right now.
This post is overdue, just as my action is overdue. I trust that my allyship has never been in doubt, and I commit to taking steps beyond performative allyship and embodying the change I wish to see in the world. (This post also has more “I” than any post I’ve perhaps ever written; that’s right for today as I speak to my journey, but going forward, you’ll hear me reflecting others’ voices rather than offering my privileged perspective.)
I challenge white allies in my sphere to share their own reflections, the work you’ve been doing, and the actions you plan to take.