AN AGE OF HOPE OR DESPAIR

AN AGE OF HOPE OR DESPAIR
It is a perplexing juxtaposition that one of the darkest chapters of human history, namely the enslavement of African Americans before the Civil War brought the beginning of emancipation, was fraught with some of the most hopeful music of recorded history. The southern black plantation slaves sang songs of great hope in the cotton fields, and somehow endured the tyranny of that period with grace and heroism. Likewise in the great depression, the aftermath of the stock market crash of October 24, 1929, brought about in the early 30s, hopeful joyous songs. Those most often performed and enjoyed were titles like “I’m singing in the Rain”, “I’m Sittin’ on Top of the World”, “Look for the Silver Lining”, “When You’re Smiling”, and so forth. Is there some correlation with enduring a difficult situation by espousing hope through the music of the time. We are witness to the reverse of this situation at the end of this millennium. We certainly have our challenges, but there is hope smiling brightly as never before. We have made major steps in curing major illness and improving human condition. Technology has opened vistas for employment that never existed before. The future generations have more hope for employment and the ability to make a difference than ever before, and yet, our music is laced with despair, rancor, hostility and vengeance. I was in Los Angeles a few years ago, just before the uprisings of vast destruction linked to the Rodney King case verdict. I was stopped at an intersection next to a young black man who was listening to a rap piece which was articulating in very deprecating terms the plight of the black man in America. It was an expose of vitriol and hate. It was completely unfounded in it’s premise, but performed with such conviction and passion as to clearly command the attention of the listener. It caused my blood to run cold, because it took the lifetime work of noble crusaders such as Dr. Martin Luther King and Eleanor Roosevelt, back half a century. It is no wonder with such persuasively powerful propaganda being spewed forth on the public air waves, that retaliatory behavior is the response. What a tragedy. Can we not learn from our own history? While traveling to Oregon some few years ago to present at a conference on the power of music in the healing industry, I turned on the television to try to assimilate community. It is a contrivance I have adopted in my loneliness of travel, to “trick” myself into thinking that I am not alone when the voices join me in a room through the technology of television. I did not seek out a program as I was unpacking my materials, but it fell upon an MTV channel in the middle of the afternoon. The song being enacted was geared toward the up and coming generation and postulating the idea that life held no hope for the future, and that it is vain to assume any degree of success because others have made that impossible. The only recourse is to get even, and such was the recurrent refrain. One of the verses proposed the idea that our money will ultimately become worthless given the fact that the world’s money is controlled by a handful of oil magnates. With that a group of Saudi Arabian, regally dressed gentlemen walking through the desert were shot down with machine guns to the refrain get even. Another verse dealt with policies being made by feeble old men in high political positions. A distinguished, white haired man was seen giving a patriotic speech in front of a large American flag. When the refrain get even was repeated, the man was shot through the head. I refer back to my statement of responsibility. What kind of promoter or producer would promulgate onto the public such vile, rancorous fodder? What possible good could come from such bilge? Is there any wonder that actions such as Oklahoma City, Littleton, Colorado, and senseless rampages of assaulting carnage in the workplace continue to escalate. Words do have the potential to kill. Whoever coined the ridiculous adage that sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, was either a clever propagandist, or a load shy of a mental brick load. Words do hurt! Words do kill! And when coupled with the monumental power of musical setting, they can move generations.