A Gathering of the Tribes

What a rich time these past two days have been! Out to breakfast with my host Tom Pierre in a Silver Spring neighborhood rich with black-owned, black-run, black-staffed, black-attended restaurants and stores and how refreshing it all was! Such warmth and humor and infectious social energy that makes me feel right at home even if my skin color suggests otherwise. 

 

Then to the hotel room to attend an online celebration of 100 years of Orff Schulwerk. The Guntherschule in Munich was where it all began in 1924 and there were some 95 people attending a historical presentation of photos, recordings and stories. I knew almost every one of those 95 folks tuning in from Thailand, Hong Kong, Iran, Greece, Germany, Czech Republic, Canada, the U.S. and more. A different kind of diverse tribal gathering and rich in a different way. 

Then back to the black community as Tom dropped me off at The African American Museum of History and Culture. Again, so many micro-connections with the packed house of black museum-goers—nods, smiles, greetings— and so many invisible connections with the athletes, musicians, social justice crusaders filling the walls and screens of this remarkable museum, re-showing footage that I had seen the first time growing up—Cassius Clay becoming Mohammed Ali, Willie Mays, Bill Russell, the Harlem Globetrotters, Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye, Angela Davis, Eldridge Cleaver, Martin and Malcolm, Tommy Smith’s and John Carlos’ raised fist at the 1968 Olympics and so much more. A few new insights— folks like Paul Robeson and Jessie Owens having their moments of being adored and revered and then thrown out on the garbage heap of systemic racism’s back yard. A picture of Bobby McFerrin’s Dad as the first black male opera singer to sing at the Met. And so on. 

 

That "so on" included three more floors below ground level, but I was overwhelmed and just had to save it for another day. So I grabbed an Uber to take me to National Airport to pick up my rental car and the serendipitous themes continued—the driver was from Ghana! He was impressed I guess which ethnic group he belonged to based on where he was from specifically—Accra and the Ga people—and we had a delightful conversation. In your face, driverless cars!! I don't know what it is that connects me to black culture, but no need to analyze. It just is. 

 

Rental car in hand, I went on to Annapolis to visit my old colleague/ friend Rick Layton and his wife (also an Orff colleague) Jacqui Shrader. Rick and I were brought together in 1986 by our mutual teacher Avon Gillespie and taught in the same course for some 34 years, even longer meeting every year at Conferences. A lot of delightful history between us and the three of us enjoyed sharing some of the old stories, telling some new ones about our Orff buddies, enjoying Jacqui’s delicious chicken enchiladas and bonding (me) with their dog Bella. A little lifetime spent in the home tribe of our chosen work and passion. 

 

That was quite a day, feeling like four different little lifetimes in a 15 hour span.

 

And the next, today, continued the same. Off the next morning to Alexandria where I met Inga, a German-born more recent acquaintance who is a lone crusader trying to bring the gifts of Orff into her Montessori world. She took my online Jazz Course several years back, invited me to present at a Montessori Conference in Florida and then came to Orff Afrique in Ghana. Every time I sit down and talk with her, I learn something else astonishing. She used to be an accomplished athlete (I believe running) in Germany, also a dancer, she met Duke Ellington on a plane and visited him at his home in New York and was a lifelong friend of Ginger Rogers! All these astonishing facts came out in conversations as little matter-of-fact anecdotes! So while savoring a muesli breakfast with intriguing side drinks at Zen Press Juice in Old Town, we had yet another stimulating conversation (no new revelations). 

 

Next I drove 20 minutes down the road to Falls Church, Virginia to have lunch with my cousin Grace and her husband Marty, both of whom I hadn’t seen in 12 years. Their son Daniel, who I knew as a baby, later went to his wedding and now he’s 52, came as well for a delicious Japanese meal and we caught up, climbing up and down the family trees and swinging from the branches. Grace, Marty and I walked back to their house via a lovely wooded pathway and looked through some of the old scrapbooks. It was an important re-connection and yet another tribe of homecoming, this one from blood and shared memories from over 70 years. 

 

Back in the car and on my way to Rehobeth Beach, Delaware, where I booked a hotel for the practical reason of needing to be a bit closer to my next stop of New Jersey and the silly reason of wanting to claim that I had spent time in Delaware, a place I had only driven through and so couldn’t count it as a state I actually visited. Now I can and it’s number 48. This January, I’ll hit 49 when I teach a workshop in Little Rock, Arkansas and I was supposed to teach in Mississippi last July, but the course was cancelled. If they invite me back to try again and the numbers are good, I’ll have hit all 50. Whoop-de-doo.

 

I opted for cheap over charm, so I’m in the Rodeway Suites on Strip Mall, Anywhere, USA, about 10 minutes from the actual beach which I’ll visit tomorrow. Set out to look for food and found a little Falafel place that looked more homey then the chains in the mall and in fact, was both cheap ($9.99 for falafel) and delicious. So both the cuisine adventures—from Soul Food to Mexican to New Age Zen Juice to Japanese to Middle Eastern— and the weaving together of my various tribes continues and it is all so happy. Whoever thought (or thinks) it’s a good idea to shut down diversity?!!! That we should claim one identity only? 

 

And so yet another day that felt like a lifetime and such a blessing to connect and re-connect with the marvelous people I’ve been privileged to meet. Let us see what tomorrow brings.