I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. We sang these words last March when we performed Joel Thompson’s “Seven Last Words of the Unarmed,” which uses use the final words of Michael Brown, Amadou Diallo, Kenneth Chamberlain, John Crawford, Eric Garner, Oscar Grant, and Trayvon Martin, using the text structure of Joseph Haydn’s Seven Last Words of Christ” and inviting reflection on their humanity, their value, and the tragedy of lives lost too soon.
George Floyd called out “I can’t breathe” last week as police officers kneeled on him and bystanders pleaded for his life. His name is added to an already too long and ever expanding list. The killing of people of color by persons under the color of authority must stop. The devaluing of life must stop.
We decry every expression of violence against brown and black people. The recent examples are the latest in our nation’s 400-year history of violence and oppression against people of color.
We are angry. We are grieving. We are worried. We don’t know what’s going to happen next. We are holding our collective breaths.
Breathing is fundamental to life and is the essential ingredient for singing. We raise our voices to advance the cause of justice and peace for all, and especially for those who are black, brown, indigenous, immigrant, persons of color and further intersectionalities who are the rainbow of the LGBTQ+ community.
Music builds bridges, enhances communication, breaks down stereotypes and humanizes the “other” in powerful ways. It has the power to transcend boundaries and create connection among people from different backgrounds, languages and beliefs, and has long been a central part of social justice movements, especially protest songs. There was plenty of singing and chanting at the Stonewall riots which were launched by the resistance of Black and Latinx trans women.
Dr. Martin Luther King said “A riot is the language of the unheard.” The unheard are speaking. It’s time for us to listen. It’s time to join the voices that are demanding justice. It’s time to sing out.
We’ve seen hearts melt, minds open and change happen at our concerts whether they’re in Jordan Hall, in towns around New England, Poland, the Middle East or South Africa. We’ve seen and felt how the breath of music inspires change and builds community.
Our instinct and our need is to come together and sing for each other and for the world. COVID-19 makes it unsafe for us to gather, to comfort each other and to make music. While we’re holding our breath to come together again, we will not stay quiet. We thank the protesters in Boston who are spreading the message of peace and demanding change.
We seek a country and a city where all are equal and safe. Only then can we all exhale.