On Jan 16, 2020 I confessed in front of a room full of people that I was in fact biracial. On that same day I read ‘I dream a World’ by Langston Hughes in front of those same majority white elderly people. And then I proceeded to sing Hughes’ text set by white men that wholly reflect who I am.
I sang ‘What good would the moon be?’ which depicts a woman who chooses love above all else and independence instead of conformity. I sang ‘To be Somebody’ and ‘Prayer’ to help me plant myself. I sang ‘My People’ and ‘Joy’ as I realized this was my place. This was the music I had always been meaning to share. Music that was my story as well as theirs. Music that begs for others to listen. I’m just breaking the tip, but I’m looking forward to digging further into this genre of music.
Afterwards I received numerous compliments and an offer to perform the program again in February (details on my events page). Amongst the compliments there were two that really stood out to me. One by my partner in crime 'Kristine Denton, who earnestly looked at me and said ‘When you sing, people listen.’ This seems like a surface compliment if I come at it from another perspective, but to me it is everything. It has taken me years to come to the conclusion that I hold ample power as a white-facing biracial person. To hear that people not only listen to my spoken voice and social media words, but also the song that exudes out of me is a more powerful statement than I could ever have imagined. I ponder that compliment often and I find myself thinking ‘it was always me wasn’t it?’ Not in an arrogant way, but rather an embracing, loving way. For years, I was taught to hide parts of myself and to bare it all and have it heard, well that’s everything.
The other compliment I received from an African American Thursday Musical member. I watched him play piano last spring. I remember thinking ‘how powerful to see this man playing a spiritual arrangement next to the classics’ I remember thinking about how much it might mean to a little black boy to see him playing there. And I remember thinking how lucky I was to be able to choose when I disclose that I am biracial. He was the person whom I saw in the audience that day and hoped that he would come speak with me. He said, ‘I had a feeling just based on your picture that you were biracial, but I want to thank you. Thank you for showing people that we can and thank you for singing it with your voice.’ It took everything in me to not start crying. He commented on my position on the board and how, that too, was equally important. I am still in disbelief almost two weeks later. Me? Me?!? Really?!?!? An African American older classical pianist just thanked me for bringing forward some of our plight, and not only our plight, but mine specifically. The one that is quietly unnoticed, but the one that means so much to me and now others. The struggle of singing with a unique voice, that is so evidently ‘thicker’ and more ‘colorful’ than those of European decent alone.
I look forward to continuing down this path and finding more underdone repertoire and to perhaps find the biracial voice in classical music, or perhaps create it if it comes to that. If you know any biracial composers or musicians who are biracial please share them below! I would love to contact them!