We're on to victory some day

It seems so small a thing in the grander scheme of what this day means, but my most profound memory of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day happens to be from the very first one. In truth some states (including Ohio) had celebrated for several years already, but it was signed into federal law in 1983 by Ronald Reagan who cited fears of losing federal dollars paying for "another day off" but was overwhelmed by enormous congressional support for the bill. The first nationally recognized King holiday was then set as January 20, 1986.

I was in the second semester of my freshman year at Capital University, still at that time a Music Performance major and playing in a couple of the Conservatory ensembles including the "Fusion Orchestra." [Actually the ensemble was called the "Fussion Arkestra," named in the 1970s when I'm guessing the faculty was probably a bit more… bohemian. But then, as now, I refused to use that drug-addled spelling outside of compunctious brackets.] The Fusion Orchestra had been through two different faculty directors in the first semester of that school year and in the second semester was taken over by Stan Smith, the Conservatory's guitar professor, then and now. I could write whole blog entries on what a talented and amazing player, writer, arranger and instructor Stan has always been, but suffice to say the lessons he tried to impart to me then are still bearing fruit in my playing to this day.

In our first two weeks under his direction we were asked to play at a convocation at the affiliated Trinity Lutheran Seminary, directly across College Avenue from Capital's campus. Stan suggested we play a few things we'd been working on from the rocky semester before and also brought in an arrangement of "We Shall Overcome."

"We Shall Overcome" is a hymn written around 1900-1901 by the Reverend Charles Albert Tindley and gained a broader audience as it began to be used in the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s, sung by notables like Mahalia Jackson, Joan Baez and Pete Seeger, and of course quoted by Dr. King himself in both 1965 and in one of his final sermons (if not his very final sermon, although I understand this is debated) prior to his assassination.

Despite 1986 being the first year of federally recognized and mandated holiday, Capital saw no need to give students the day off from Capital since they are a private school, so I recall attending classes as normal that day. Which, to be fair, meant that I slept through my 8:00 a.m. Music Theory class but I did go to the rest before grabbing my gear and heading over to Trinity's chapel.

Most of the convocation itself was laid back and informal with various Seminary faculty and students presenting brief sermon-like orations to illustrate how Dr. King's message was applicable to a far greater segment of the world's population than simply the oppressed minorities during the 1960s. There were discussions on Dr. King's combining of biblical and secular references and an overarching emphasis on the equality of everyone. [Which, in retrospect, is probably why I was so proud of the E.L.C.A.'s recent decision to "allow" openly gay pastors in the church, and why I remain so disgusted with those who subsequently broke off to "maintain traditional values," which I can only assume means to ignore the entirety of the New Testament.]

When the Fusion Orchestra began playing Stan's inarguably breathtaking arrangement of "We Shall Overcome," I think even he was a little shocked at the energy that began building when the entire chapel started singing the words of the hymn. Within one pass through the song's form it became something larger than itself. Despite having made the choice to pursue an education in music because of my deep and abiding love for its power over me, this was the first time I found myself so immersed in the feedback loop between performers and listeners that the drowning became bliss itself. I remember Stan directing us to repeat the form over and over again, asking individual members to take solos here and there while the attendees continued to sing at the top of their lungs, making so joyful a noise as to make real every piece of the message that Dr. King wanted us all to take away from his use of that hymn. The truth of that message really could set us free.

I wonder now how much of that moment not only drove me to change my major just enough to add in as much learning outside the Conservatory in arts and sciences as I continued to have in music; how much it kept the fire alive inside me to constantly pursue music's truth and that performer/listener feedback loop; how much it propelled me into my now very non-musical career of fighting for the rights of every child brought before me in the justice system. It may seem inappropriate to discuss my own story on Dr. King's day, but then again, every holiday of recognition should be a day of introspection to see how much we live up to the beliefs and aspirations of the one being recognized.

And where we don't live up, we strive to overcome our limitations.