Oh
Alabama
Can
I see you and shake your hand
Make
friends down in Alabama
I’m
from a new land
I
come to you and
See
all this ruin
What
are you doing?
Alabama,
you have the rest of the union
To
help you along
From “Alabama”
from Harvest by Neil Young (released in 1972)
When the first chords of any Neil Young guitar
lick—as recognizable as my mother’s voice—hit my ear, I perk up
immediately. In the middle of a show at the Narrows from their strong new
album, Duende, a member of the Band of Heathens said, “This is for Jeff
Sessions,” and ripped into “Alabama,” Neil Young’s lament about southern
racism. After the raucous applause
which included a yell of “Fuck Trump,” to hearty crowd affirmation, the lead
singer grinned. And then he said, “Music
is about bringing people together, not splitting them apart.”
I had a similar experience attending a live
performance of The Moth at the Zeiterion Theatre last week. It seemed like everyone I knew, from my
mother-in-law to my yoga teacher to my colleagues to my students knew about
this radio show/podcast except for me.
When I asked what it was about, they just said, “It’s so great!” It turns out that the Moth is comprised of
stories. The host opened the show by
noting that stories were for everyone, even in this acrimonious time. Five people came onto the stage and shared 10
minute personal narratives of varying humor and pathos. Even though Donald Trump played a major part
in one of the stories, the point was not to praise or to denigrate; but simply
to tell the story in which he was a character.
These experiences, along with listening to some of
my favorite music this week (Avett Brothers, Frank Turner, Wailin’ Jennys,
Mavis Staples and of course Hamilton),
helped me understand and embrace the role I want to take in this divisive and
scary time: that of someone who brings
people together. I am not a moderate in
my political beliefs: my lefthandedness and my leftist priorities are in
harmony. That said, I think it’s time to
widen the tent.
It troubles
me to make this kind of space in some ways.
For example, I never thought I would be cheering on billionaire Eli
Broad, a pariah to public educators, except in his vocal
opposition to Betsy DeVos. I also
wonder about those folks against abortion who name themselves as
feminists. Do we have to turn in our
leftist credentials to include them in an anti-Trump movement? It’s fine for us to question each other in
ways to get each other to think, as in the women of
color noting and critiquing the whiteness of the women’s march. Where were white women in the Black Lives
Matter movement, they ask? I supported
that, but I also felt a little queasy seeing it written across a white girl’s
stomach at the Newport Folk Festival two years ago. I have spoken to many white middle class
women who don’t quite know what to do.
We don’t want to be colonialist,
and we are not sure how to be activists and not speak for oppressed people instead of with them. I hope this
larger resistance will create space for all of us to feel comfortable talking
and listening to each other.
In this larger tent of resistance, I think of Jesus
with the loaves
and fishes, expanding who can be nourished.
We need the ranters
who seem to be at the forefront right now, but we also need strategists
and spaceholders. How can we cultivate unlikely allies such as
Eli Broad, anti-abortion feminists and radical people of color? How about moderate conservatives in Congress
who have been afraid to stand up to this administration and their
leadership? Do we all not at least agree
that we want Trump and Pence out of the Oval Office? Even as there may not be compromises on
certain issues, I hope that inclusivity and peace can be the hallmarks of this
resistance.
Let’s remember:
-We are the majority.
-We want love and justice for all people.
-Politicians want votes and corporations want our
business.
That is, we have immense power. Let’s use it.
Together.
