A Noted Voice
The soft cool echo of the trumpet feels refreshing, as the dry heat of the sun slows down everything else. The subtleness of the piano helps slide along the music, guiding the rest of the instruments along like their conductor, keeping everything in time and together.
A vivid picture is painted inside my head, one that is different from what would’ve been painted had I been listening to it at an earlier time. The picture is not yet complete, but it is hopeful — it has the direction of promise and beauty. It’s imagery is familiar, almost recognizable, except I know that it is new.
The artist that was so smoothly and effortlessly painting this picture through his music was jazz icon and innovator Miles Davis. An artist whom I was unfamiliar with and was luckily recommended to by a good friend.
It was dauntingly beautiful. Yet, it was hauntingly sad.
Jazz was always something I considered just “background music”. It was more of a mood-setter rather than something that could hold its own. And it wasn’t until I approached it with a different and open mindset, that I was able to understand its beautiful complexity.
I realized that it’s strong. I realized that what some people believe isn’t lyrics, actually has the loudest voice I had ever heard.
I realized that people have different ways of voicing themselves. Sometimes, one voice should be louder than the rest, because it’s their turn. It’s not their job to make you feel comfortable, it’s actually your job to hear their voice and listen.
Nowadays, people are so quick to dismiss unfamiliarity and stick to the comfort of what they are used to. The unwillingness to have a conversation, or the incapability to empathize with an opposing view of their own, plagues our more-than-capable generation more than anything.
With that being said, there is a spot and a role for everyone to be involved in a movement as big as the one that is currently foregoing in our nation today. These roles may be different depending on the person, but to think there is nothing you can do is the same as giving up on it.
The only thing worse than being uninvolved is close minded, and not listening to someone’s voice because “it doesn’t affect you”.
It wasn’t that I had never heard jazz music before, but I had never delved below the surface. It wasn’t until I listened deeply with the intent to learn and understand, that I began to truly hear it.
To Miles Davis, I thank you for your music and your funk. Your intimacy made it easy for me to want to listen and learn, and has done/will do the same for many more.
To friends, who have kept me and many others educated during these crucial times. I thank you for your words and your bravery, it has been heard by so many and is truly inspiring.
To the black community, I hear you. And I for one, will never stop listening to what you have to say.
To everyone, keep your mind open. Challenge yourself to take risks that make you uncomfortable. Change the familiar narrative for yourself, and be a spoken factor to others who need a voice to listen to.
The echo of the trumpet wouldn’t be as effective if it weren’t for its brother and sister instruments. Just like our voices, which are much better heard and understood when they’re together.
As the music fades, the piano once again leads us to the next song. It’s time to turn the page…
