Vocal Activism

Dear Friends & Fellow Rascals, old & new, known & unknown … Welcome to October, my favorite month, when we get to experience duality at its finest. Light Waves dancing on raindrops as muddy boots trudge through tomato vines.

It was Goethe who said:  One ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words. 

Stepping across the threshold to October I say let’s give Goethe’s suggestion a try.   A little bit of this and a little bit of that. A Fall Harvest Smorgasbord, perhaps.  First the picture, followed by one of hundreds of “good poems” I might have chosen, and then, hopefully, a few reasonable words about Vocal Activism .  Thanks for hangin’ in there with me. I would love to read your afterthoughts.

The poem, “Invitation”, by Mary Oliver, begins this way:  Oh do you have time / to linger / for just a little while / out of your busy / and very important day ….   Hmmnn.  That is the question, isn’t it?

What do we have time for? What do we make time for?  And how do we use our voices in service to a greater good?  You’re right … ‘do’ is definitely an action word.  And what is ‘vocal activism’ supposed to mean, you ask.  Well, the short answer would be, of course, simply using your voice to bring attention to something that is important; like Melanie DeMore, a singer/composer, choral conductor, music director, and three-time Grammy nominee, who says without apology … “I use my voice as a weapon of mass connection.”  The link that you just bypassed will take you to an interview in which Melanie, who trains choirs and choir directors, says this:   …  people ask me, “What do I have to do in order to be able to sing with you?” And I say, “Are ya breathin’? Good. That’s the only qualification.” …, I’ll be talking a lot about why we need to share each other’s music and how important that really, really is, because of what’s happening, because of this huge movement in choral music that we should only sing music in our own culture. Wrong. Poison.  

Hmmn. Maybe worth a click and a few minutes of your time. Oh, and if you have time to linger … you might want to check out another brilliant woman of color who is using her voice to “lean into the dissonance”. In addition to being the Assistant Professor of Music Education and Social Justice at Portland State University, Coty Raven Morris is the founder of Being Human Together (BHT) a community rooted in music education that strives to normalize and navigate difficult topics like mental health, systemic oppression, diversity, and inclusivity. On a personal level, Coty can’t help naturally encouraging and empowering others to become their best Self. Here’s a song she wrote, sings, and directs. Beautiful noise, yes?

And then, of course, there is Andrea Gibson.  Bold, Brave, Beautiful Being … a force to be reckoned with!

During a time when lies
are invading the land of truth,
let us know hope is just an idea
If it doesn’t lace its boots.
–Andrea Gibson, they/them

If you’ve got time for just a little more Vocal Activism you’ll want to see what the Portland Raging Grannies have to say about WAKING UP.

Then … if you’ve got time for another poem, here’s one of mine from Words That Dance.

Seasonal Inventory 

Three days of rain and summer's garden, having
danced across the full calendar page. begins to drag
its muddy feet. What's left of the sunflowers bow
their heavy heads as if in prayer, a hard freeze
predicted for the weekend.

Leaves just last week lush on elegant vines
curl inward, yellowing, turning brittle, letting go
into the wind.  All last night it rained, cold and
hard. What can the weatherman tell me that
I don’t already know?

Eyewitness updates of natural disasters and
humanity's failings dominate the morning news
screen, flinging images of hungry children with
vacant eyes and bloated bellies, the latest count
of deaths from the virus, earthquakes, drought, fires,
famine and war … always war.

I turn off the TV and go out to pick the lavender
and baby's breath. Hanging them gently upside
down to dry next to the goldenrod, I can almost
feel their assurance of transformation.

Finally, gathering the green tomatoes and
snipping the last of the basil, I remind myself,
Take a breath. Ignore the news. Plant the bulbs.

And if you’re like me … fond of anything that contains the word plowshare, please join me in ending our time together  today with this version of Spencer LaJoye’s beautiful “Plowshare Prayer.”  Until we meet again … let’s try to sing & dance a little every day, smile at strangers, and

Be Kind Always.