Jazz, Joy & Justice

 

                        Little Sally Walker, sittin’ in the saucer

                      Cryin’ and a’weepin’ over all she has done.

                      Rise Sally rise, won’t you wipe your cryin’ eyes

                      Won’t you turn to the East, Sally

                      Turn to the West, Sally

                      Turn to the very one that you love the best.

 

What I’m trying to get across to teachers, what I’m trying to model and trying to live, is teaching as a call and response. You grow your repertoire song by song, dance by dance, piece by piece, your imaginative ways of teaching each activity and bringing it fully to life, your deep reflection on why you chose that activity and what it might mean to human development and how to think about it and talk about it with your students. All of this happens class by class over many years and the more years you do this with constant consideration about how you might do it better or differently, the more authentic and powerful it all becomes. Then before you enter each class, you plan your lessons meticulously and once in the mix, you feel what the group needs, what the moment calls for and with all of this stored in your own body and memory, you respond to what’s needed. Just like a good jazz musician who does the work to learn some 500 tunes, knows all the changes of the chords and scales and tempos and grooves and comes to the stage alert to what the others are playing and responding accordingly. 

 

How different than so much—too much—of what I’m seeing in even that most creative and radical approach to teaching called Orff Schulwerk. More and more, I’m seeing Power-pointed steps and genuine flowing process reduced to ice cubes of nouns all taken from their uniform trays. Where the waters should be flowing, they’re frozen and packaged and sold under the fantasy of This is Orff Schulwerk. Well, what should I have expected from a culture based almost exclusively on marketing and monetizing and shopping and owning things. It leaks into every facet of the way we live. 

 

All of this is a long prelude to the moment yesterday when my tears came forth publicly in front of the group without apology, released by once-again watching a video of Nina Simone singing “I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free.” It was time to play Little Sally Walker. I walked into the center of the circle going down to the ground to “sit in a saucer” and cry and weep over all we have done (me included) to cause and perpetuate the human misery of racism mixed with misogyny mixed with profits over people, those three great evils that have poisoned the human spirit. Then (follow the text here) rise up into hope, healing and redemption, wiping away the tears and point to the East and then the West and then with eyes closed and arm extended, turn in a circle to the last phrase, stopping on “best.” Then opening my eyes and whoever I pointed to comes in and joins me while we repeat the song. From 2 to 4 to 8 to 16 to 32 and there we all are, singing and moving together, ending in a circle with arms around each other. 

 

And then my words to the group: 

 

The song is teaching us what we need to know to begin to turn things around. Go down into grief. Let the tears flow and feel the full pain and shame of what we have done. But don’t stay down there and wallow in it. Rise up with renewed determination to do better and to do whatever it takes to create a happier future. But we can’t do it alone. So turn around with eyes closed and whoever is in the room, whoever has made the effort to join the circle and share their true heart is someone worthy of love. You don’t get to choose based on all the superficialities of difference, attracted only to those who look like or think like you. Just close your eyes and when you open them, whoever you pointed to is the one you will learn to love and the one you’ll bring by your side to go down and rise up together with. 

 

At the end of the matter, after all the fun and frolicking and playful approach to learning a fabulous repertoire of games, songs, dance, instrumental pieces from the world of blues and jazz, that’s what this course is really about. And here in Memphis, I can testify that every one of these 30 beautiful teachers are ambassadors of jazz, joy and justice. 

 

 

Outside the walls, the horror continues—the latest attempt to shut down conversation and needed information with the cancelling of NPR and PBS, the devastating news that the CBS is cancelling the Stephen Colbert show, the ongoing repulsive actions of elected representatives afraid their unearned power and privilege will be threatened if the population learns our history and is trained to think. Lucy snatched away the football of hope yet again and again and leaves me wondering, “When will this end?”

 

But end it will, the truth will out and a lot of damage with be left in the wake of its tornado of shameless decisions, but we will rise again. My friends, please keep the pathway to grief open, the determination to rise alive and every day, turn to the one that you love the best and grow who those people are so we can do this together. 

 

On to the closing day.