This is a time of justified anger, rage, and desperation. Two hundred years of institutionalized slavery, followed by 200 more years of de facto slavery through sharecropping, Jim Crow laws, the War on Drugs, and the prison-industrial complex—all of these have relegated Black communities to the status of second-class citizenship in North America. Outline the “progress” we have made so far, and you will find it is very little. In the words of Malcolm X: “If you stick a knife in my back nine inches and pull it out six inches, there’s no progress. If you pull it all the way out, that’s not progress. Progress is healing the wound that the blow made. And they haven’t even pulled the knife out, much less heal the wound.”
400 years since being forced onto the shores of America via the schemes of profiteering colonists and various European crowns, Black people still have not been granted the freedom they innately deserve. In fact, the very notion that human dignity and freedom must be “granted” by one party to another vandalizes the supposed innateness of human rights. The claim that Black people are theoretically equal to whites under the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments loses all credibility in the face of reality. How can this stand true when administrations like Nixon’s simply decided to abandon all notions of governance and constitutionality by specifically painting Black people as criminals and legislating against them?
When dealt injustice today through the forms of police brutality, lynchings, white supremacy riots, and racial profiling––all of which are systemic because our institutions refuse to hold the perpetrators adequately accountable, if at all––there is a clear disadvantage. Black people are politically disenfranchised due to unconstitutional gerrymandering and voter ID laws that Republicans have routinely employed in order to stifle proportionate representation for Black communities. Black people are not afforded the same power that is wielded by the government and the systems they perpetuate. We can strive for justice by acknowledging this basic reality: the legal and criminal justice systems are rigged against Black people, and we must fix this injustice through comprehensive legislation and profound social change.
Some of us may be at a loss for words over the series of injustices against Black folks, of which the murder of George Floyd was a major tipping point. Some things language just can’t convey. Maybe we are each seeking a different medium through which to free our trapped emotions and long-needed cries. Our voices, each with a different timbre, register, and rhythm shaped by our histories, are best projected through mediums that suit us. Through any medium with which we can channel the desires stirring relentlessly in our souls, together we create a movement of change, justice, and peace that is firmly rooted in our shared humanity and which acknowledges the profundity of our individual identities.
The process of finding our individual voices is a daunting one that will probably occupy much of our lives, but it is necessary in order to create the sort of change we want to see. Self-discovery is a lifelong practice that actively encourages us to witness and assess the growth of our personal identities, alongside the growth of the movements to which we contribute. Part of this process involves engaging with diverse communities and encountering the voices within them. This is the journey. We can’t simply teleport to a time where we have achieved “perfect voices” and where our growth has reached a peak. In this process, we must understand the meanings behind our words and learn about the people who bestowed them upon us––their struggles, identities, and histories that provide their words with phonology and inflection. As an American, I’d like to reflect upon the place jazz music had in the American Civil Rights Movement of the mid-20th century in order for us to gain perspective on how unity, allyship, and personal expression come together to inspire a movement of change—and how we can emulate this spirit in our movements today.
Descending from the blues of the American Deep South, jazz is a fundamentally Black artform. Although it took inspiration from many different sources in its early stages in New Orleans, at its core are Black musicians such as Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, Oscar Peterson, Louis Armstrong, John Coltrane, and Art Blakey, among many others.
The dynamics between Black and white jazz musicians were wrought with contention, especially regarding whether it was acceptable for members of the two groups to collaborate—a criticism largely imposed by white critics who viewed jazz as something “savage” and “barbaric.”
One example of allyship in the face of racist critique comes from Dave Brubeck, a white pianist who, in the early 60s, toured with his quartet, which included Black bassist Eugene Wright. Out of 25 concerts, the quartet cancelled 23 because they would only be allowed to perform on the condition that they replaced Wright with a white bassist—a demand which Brubeck categorically rejected. However, during one concert in the South, the quartet was offered a gig as long as Wright was kept hidden in the background. Brubeck defied the order and encouraged Wright to play at the front of the band—effectively integrating the school that very night. He recognized that jazz was a Black artform and used his white privilege to help Wright gain the platform he deserved.
As a form of expression, jazz had also branched into avenues of civil rights activism and spirituality, both of which often intertwined to convey a message of love and cosmic equality with all things.
In 1957, three years after the Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision declared racial segregation in public schools unconstitutional, nine Black students had enrolled in Little Rock High School in Arkansas. They were prevented from entering the school by both the students and the governor, Orval Faubus. This breach of federal authority prompted President Dwight D. Eisenhower to command the Arkansas National Guard to protect the nine Black students’ education.
In 1959, Black bassist Charles Mingus released his album Mingus Ah Um, which featured a racially integrated personnel and a song titled “Fables of Faubus,” which was written in response to the Little Rock Nine incident. The scornfully satirical lyrics, which Columbia Records refused to include but which Mingus released later with Candid Records in a song titled “Original Faubus Fables,” are as follows:
Name me someone who’s ridiculous, Dannie.
Governor Faubus!
Why is he so sick and ridiculous?
He won’t permit integrated schools.
Then he’s a fool! Boo! Nazi fascist supremists!
Boo! Ku Klux Klan (with your Jim Crow plan).
It is clear that Columbia Records, a company so rooted in elite society at the time, wished to avoid any potential fallout resulting from the controversy of a Black man challenging the authority of a Southern governor and his vision of America.
Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald, two of the most famous voices in jazz, demonstrated the importance of Black women in the civil rights jazz scene. Holiday’s solemn performance of Abel Meeropol’s song “Strange Fruit” evoked the horrors of the South’s rampant, cold-blooded lynchings. Constant and lucid reminders of America’s injustices are necessary to apply consistent pressure on those in power and remind them of our ever-growing list of grievances. At that time, jazz acted as the perfect vessel for Black artists to express their frustration over society’s ills.
Ella Fitzgerald broke racial barriers with her widespread popularity. Her impressive discography, talent, and contributions to jazz led her to become one of America’s biggest names and most important cultural icons. She utilized her reputation to ensure segregated venues would not distinguish between “white” and “colored” seating. Fitzgerald’s influence teaches us that no matter our position in society, we should be inspired to wield whatever social reach we may have to amplify the voices of Black people.
Free jazz musicians advocated the message of spirituality and unity to varying degrees. They utilized improvisatory and compositional techniques that broke down typical musical conventions in jazz to create music that was entirely their own, and that adhered to their personal philosophies of unity, religion, and love. Sun Ra, Pharoah Sanders, and John Coltrane were all extremely influential figures of this movement. In the freedom and meditative sound of their music, one can clearly hear the intimacy of every note. A breakdown of convention was required to convey the unrestricted universality of the human experience, or, alternatively, a rebellion against Eurocentric aesthetic structures, thus representing an ideological struggle against the white-dominated intellectual traditions.
John Coltrane was one of the most influential jazz musicians and saxophonists of all time. His commercial career spanned about 13 years, during which he had a revolutionary impact on music theory and improvisatory techniques. A Love Supreme, his best-selling album, is a deeply personal and spiritual experience. As its title suggests, the album reflects Coltrane’s desire to spread joy through the universal medium of music, and that we have all received God’s blessings, a love supreme that we all equally share with each other.
Pharoah Sanders is a saxophonist who played with John Coltrane before the latter’s passing in 1947. Sanders is a Muslim who incorporated blessings of peace and cosmic aural imagery in his music. In his most famous recording, “The Creator Has a Master Plan,” he replicates on the saxophone what are, to me, the trumpets signaling the Day of Judgment in Islam, until it suddenly changes to a celebratory rhythm as if to welcome a new peace.
I had the honor of seeing Pharoah Sanders in concert in 2016, and at that time he was about 80 years old. It was easily the most sublime and transcendent performance I will probably ever see. He came out on stage in Adidas sandals and soccer coach dad sunglasses and began a series of unpredictable antics. He shuffled around the stage and introduced all the band members several times over in the same song. He played every solo with the power and grace of someone a quarter his age. In the middle of his solo, he would shout into his horn and somehow enchant the crowd into shouting and singing alongside him. As he jigged, so did the audience in their seats. A single man––a single voice––moved an entire auditorium full of people.
There are so many more musicians to discuss, all of whom have made significant contributions to music, American culture, and the Civil Rights Movement. All the musicians discussed in this article challenged the status quo through direct action or by offering philosophical fodder for the Civil Rights Movement. They all contributed in ways that aligned with their individual personalities and backgrounds and spoke out against racial injustice authentically, using jazz as a platform that innately facilitates innovative, unabashed individuality and expression.
But not all of us have to use jazz to make our impact. Be it through outreach, newspaper editorials, music, art, donations, protesting, or some entirely new medium, try to make an impact and be a voice for the Black Lives Matter Movement wherever and however you can. Be tact. Be brazen. Say what needs to be said. Engage with Black media. Seek out resources and educate yourself more and more. Listen attentively and genuinely to the voices of Black people. Share their work and help their voices attain the reach that they have long deserved.
Seek truth and justice to their fullest. Let us all share a love supreme.
I would like to thank Professor Michael Woods of Hamilton College and Professor Cornel West of Princeton University for inspiring me to write this article.
Recordings Mentioned and Artists to Listen To:
Count Basie & His Orchestra
- April in Paris
Dave Brubeck
- Time Out
- Live at Oberlin
John Coltrane
- A Love Supreme
- Giant Steps
- Duke Ellington & John Coltrane
- John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman
Miles Davis
- Kind of Blue
- Bitches Brew
- Milestones
Duke Ellington
- Live at Newport
- The Ellington Suites
Ella Fitzgerald
- Ella and Basie
- Ella and Louis
Aretha Franklin
- I Never Loved a Man the Way I Loved You
- Aretha: Lady Soul
- Hey Now Hey (The Other Side of the Sky)
Herbie Hancock
- Head Hunters
- Empyrean Isles
- Sunlight
- Secrets
Billie Holiday
- Strange Fruit
Rahsaan Roland Kirk
- Simmer, Reduce, Garnish & Serve
- The Return of the 5,000 Lb Man
- Kirkatron
Charles Mingus
- Mingus Ah Um
- Blues & Roots
- “Original Faubus Fables” in Charles Mingus Presents Charles Mingus
Sun Ra
- Sun Ra with Pharoah Sanders and Black Harold
Pharoah Sanders
- Karma
- Africa
- Message From Home
- Jewels of Thought
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