Last night, before our gig, my friend Dawna showed up. Dawna comes to so many of our performances. She dances and sings along, bringing friends and family -- and sometimes arriving alone.
So many times last year she'd show up, grateful to hear some music. 2016 was the year of the celebrity die-off, with beloved musicians from our youth suddenly passing. It seemed to start with David Bowie, and the news just got worse and worse. Dawna would come to a gig mourning and soothing herself at the same time. We got it. 2016 was tough.
And here we are in 2017. Celebrities keep dying (Death, you need to take a freaking holiday).
Oh and by the way: We have a new regime in the White House. It's a week into the new order, and I think no matter where your politics lean, this is an anxious time for all of us. Some of us who work in human services (i.e. me) are terrified to look at the news every morning, preferring to look at otter videos on YouTube (one woman's cat is another woman's otter). Mankind cannot take too much reality, indeed. I'm overloading on it.
What will become of the people we support if funding is eliminated? Does anybody outside of my industry understand the vast need? That people are sick, through no fault of their own? And -- let's face it, folks -- what kind of society have we created if we have treatments and cures, medical freaking miracles, but people can't possibly take advantage of them... because they have no resources?
This makes me crazy. And sad. And anxious.
So five days a week I fight for the people who need supports in our Darwinian world, where rich people hold the keys to the kingdom (okay, I lean WAY LEFT... I still am allowed!). And a couple of times a month, I put it aside, choosing to communicate the human experience through music. The Bards perform other people's songs; we increasingly write our own. Last night we played our first original -- "You Ain't My Table" -- and I marveled as I saw people tapping their feet and singing. SINGING.
Times are scary. The social structure is uneven. The American Dream is hard fought, changing, and may be something like a long, agonizing childbirth. Maybe new life will come out of all of this. Right now, I am somewhat paralyzed by the labor pains.
But there is music. And it binds us in shared humanity. It reminds us that in spite of these deeply divisive times, we are one. At gigs, everyone gets up to dance together. I beg myself as much as all of you: keep the faith, whatever that faith may be. Stay kind. Stay true to yourself -- and take care of each other. Please.
P.S. Thanks to Dawna, for her faith in it all.
