Marching for Social Justice

War, political and social inequality, poverty, and other obstacles to economic and development prospects have all sparked protests calling for social justice as an alternative to the status quo.  Although social justice is frequently associated with politics, many justice movements have employed music to encourage and encourage widespread participation in their cause.1 One form of music that has been involved in many protests is the ‘marching band’. The history of marching bands may be traced to the Middle Ages, when musicians were used by feudal armies to inspire and motivate their troops. Although the bulk of countries still use marching bands in their military facilities, America has started using them in classrooms. In the majority of high schools and colleges across the country, music ensembles are now an obligatory subject. Even though marching bands were predominantly white, that did not stop people of color from making use of this brilliant genre.2 We can hear recordings of marching bands dating all the way back to 1923, as seen in the recording done by ‘Victor’ recording label and ‘Sousa’s Band’.3

In the picture above4, we can see the March 3, 1913, National American Woman Suffrage Association parade in Washington, D.C. The parade’s organizers deliberately timed the procession to take place the day before President-elect Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration, which further boosted interest in the occasion. This tactic was effective. The women marched from the U.S. Capitol toward the Treasury Building, where they were met by thousands of spectators, many of whom were in town for the inauguration.5 The all-women marching band, added to the huge spectacle of this parade, is credited in having an active role in the passing of the Nineteenth Amendment, signed 7 years later. Protests, like the National American Woman Suffrage Association parade, highlight the importance of music as a medium for social justice.

Although we see marching bands used as a medium for protest all the way back in the early 20th century, we can see bands making their way to protests still today. At the Honk! festival of activist street bands, which began on Thursday and ran for five days, it was difficult to determine where politics ended and the party started. Honk! Fest takes place in Somerville, Massachusetts, around the weekend of Indigenous Peoples’ Day. The Rude Mechanical Orchestra, whose ‘fists-up anthems’ encouraged the spontaneous dance party on Saturday, was directed by sousaphone player Matt Arnold, 39. “It’s kind of a band jamboree, something we all look forward to,” Arnold said. Eight years ago, this marching band came together to express its disapproval of the Republican National Convention in New York. Since then, it has performed at each Honk! festival, taking a break from a busy itinerary that includes picket lines, antiwar demonstrations, and, as of last year, Occupy Wall Street rallies6.

 

1 “Music and Social Justice | Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy.” n.d. https://iep.utm.edu/music-sj/.

2 Hall, Sophia Alexandra. 2021. “How the Marching Band Became a Staple of American Music Education.” Classic FM, November. https://www.classicfm.com/discover-music/music-education/marching-band-american-schools/.

3 “High School Cadets March.” n.d. The Library of Congress. https://www.loc.gov/item/jukebox-117939/?

4 “Woman Band – Suffrage Parade.” n.d. The Library of Congress. https://www.loc.gov/item/2014691491/.

5 “This Day in History: The 1913 Women’s Suffrage Parade.” 2016. Whitehouse.Gov. March 3, 2016. https://obamawhitehouse.archives.gov/blog/2016/03/03/this-day-history-1913-womens-suffrage-parade.

6 Wikipedia contributors. 2023. “HONK!” Wikipedia, August. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HONK!

Whiteness portrayed in JP Sousa’s Sousa Band

John Philip Sousa,1 commonly referred to as the “American March King” was a pivotal figure in not only conducting “American Music” starting from the end of the 19th century, but also spreading the term “American Music” outwards to countries outside of North America. Branching out the new style of music certainly gained popularity as other countries began to include styles such as ragtime, blues, and jazz into their musical framework. Little did these countries know that the composed and performed music of John Philip Sousa and the Sousa Band weren’t authentically composed from his ideas, but rather that of stereotypes and thievery of cultures appreciating this music long before “Americans.”

The stigma of whiteness in music is carried by the “broadly conceived European conceptualisation of music as a non-verbal symbolic system which becomes an object of verbal discourse, interpretations, and assessment in all human cultures. Talking about music allows people to organize sensed meanings, and further objectivise them,”2 says Professor of Musicology at University of Warsaw, Sławomira Żerańska-Kominek.

When new treatments of American Music were discovered during the late 1800s into the 1900s, white composers and musicians tried desperately to get their hands on it and make it their claim. JP Sousa was one of the many to do so, and was successful while doing it. Sure, many of his marches were authentically composed out of the musicality in his head, but many other compositions and performances were created out of stereotypes of traditions of non-white Americans. 

First, take a listen to Sousa’s Band perform “Indian war dance,” written by Herman Bellstedt (1902)3. The 2:31 recording features an array of band members making sounds with their mouths, in an attempt to represent native indian songs. Not only are the sounds utterly racist to native indian songs, but the concept of the song itself proposes red flags to the “whiteness” of native indian music. Notating when band members should scream, while a band plays assorted notes based on traditions the Europeans passed down to American music theory creates an “us” vs. “them” feel. When diving into the composition itself, the song is all white interpretation based on non-lived experiences of the “others,” being native indians.

Another example of “whiteness” immersed into non-white originating music can be heard in Oscar Gardner’s “Chinese blues” (1915)4 performed by Sousa’s Band once again. The 3:55 song highlights a stereotypical idea that Chinese music is different because it is light and dainty. The entirety of the song features trills and bouncy melodies. News flash: not all Chinese music is light and dainty, but the misconception of white, American composers writing Chinese music completely misses this point. And to make matters even worse, the composer decides to throw on the term “blues” at the end of the song title. American writer Amiri Baraka describes The blues as being what was “conceived by freedmen and ex-slaves – if not as the result of a personal or intellectual experience, at least as an emotional confirmation of, and reaction to, the way in which most Negroes were still forced to exist in the United States.”5

What is the problem with the blues, in Chinese blues, you may ask? There is no element of blues in the song! Instead of implementing notes of dissonance to signify the pain and struggle the blues originally conveyed, the song sounds of joy, happiness, and music that would get crowds of people on their feet. Sounds a lot more like ragtime to me.

Although song titles are no longer extremely racist or stereotypical, this doesn’t take away from the past of American music, and how horrible acts could be seen as ways of entertainment to white populations. This is why it is important to reflect on our pasts. The past can never fully be forgotten, and Sousa’s take on “whiteness” in non-white originated music is one prime example of this statement.

 

HBCU Marching Bands Take the Big Screen….Now the Stage

Historically Black Universities and Colleges (HBCUs) have been known for their marching bands for over a century. Marching band competitions flood most of the southern states throughout the marching band season with the big competitions such as Nationals and the Honda Battle of the Bands being greatly anticipated. It wasn’t until 2002 when Charles Stone decided to showcase HBCU marching bands and the culture that has been born from this musical community. The film is labeled as a drama, musical, comedy, and romance and features a young man from Harlem who joins a Southern university’s marching band but antagonizes the musical director and its leader. There is a coming-of-age element to the film as the young college student finds his way in college and the band.

Almost a decade later in 2011, a new version of Drumline came out for a different audience. Drumline was made into a theatre production.

 

When researching the culture behind black marching bands from HBCUs I was intrigued when coming across not only the Drumline Film but also the Drumline LIVE production. It is curious to note the audience that usually sits for a marching band performance and a football game is not usually an audience that would sit for a theatre production.  

 

 

 

Reading into a newspaper article from the Philadelphia Tribune on the year that Drumline Live came out as a theatre production it was clear that the production made quite an impact on the audience and was a surprising success.

“Drumline Live” is the brainchild of Atlanta native Don P. Roberts, a former Florida A&M University (FAMU) drum major who began his musical journey as a trumpeter. An educator who has served as the instrumental music coordinator of the DeKalb County School System since 1996, Roberts was recruited by “Drumline” producer Dallas Austin, an accomplished drummer who is also an Atlanta native, to serve as executive band consultant for the film.”

It was a booming success amongst HBCUs, BIPOC communities, musical communities, theatre-goers, and so many others. Roberts could not keep himself from boasting of the accomplishment that was Drumline Live.

“This show is absolutely the most dynamic, exciting theatrical production to come out in years. These are big words, but every time people see the show, they tell me I was right! I don’t think there’s anything that’s comparable, and I go to shows all the time. I feel like there’s some really good shows out there, but there’s nothing like us. We touch every emotion in your body. We’re going to make you sing, we’re gonna make you shout, we’re gonna make you cry, we’re gonna make you smile, we’re gonna make you laugh – we touch all of the emotions. You will totally be surprised by the things that you see in the show, and that’s one of the beautiful things about it.”

As I read through the newspaper clippings, looked further into the film and the comparison of the theatre production, one question kept coming to mind: Why this way? I do not have an answer for why these two avenues of art would be chosen to inform an audience of the culture of a HBCU marching band yet it was. What art forms are we using to spread knowledge of something that doesn’t seem like it should fit there?

 

Bibliography:

Drumline Live. 2011-12-03. Retrieved from the Digital Public Library of America, http://hdl.handle.net/11134/510002:20109259. (Accessed November 24, 2021.)

Roberts, Kimberly C. 2011. “‘Drumline Live’ Thrilling Audiences.” Philadelphia Tribune, Oct 21, 6-7. https://www.proquest.com/newspapers/drumline-live-thrilling-audiences/docview/903433037/se-2?accountid=351.

 

 

 

 

 

The Complicated Legacy of Music and Forced Assimilation – Stewart Indian School, Nevada

Carson City. A sleepy small town in the Eagle Valley of Nevada. Surrounded by brown hills and the mighty Sierra Nevada to the West, the town seems even smaller. In Nevada it is common to spray paint the hills with the letter of the local high schools. In Carson City there is only one public high school, Carson High, and looking to the west you can see a giant C on the hill – we call this C hill. But if you look to the east, you’ll see another letter spray painted on the hill – S hill. But S hill is not the site of high school teenagers yearly pranks and shenanigans like C hill is. It’s a remembrance. A remembrance of the residential boarding school that operated in Carson City for over 90 years.

C Hill

Stewart Indian School, also known in its history as Carson Indian School or Carson Institute, was built as part of the assimilationist era policies of the late 19th century that forcibly removed Native children from their families to be trained at residential schools. The school opened in 1890, first taking students from the local Washoe, Paiute, and Western Shoshone tribes, but later expanding to take students from all across the Western United States.

This snapshot is from the Board of Indian Commissioners Bulletin No. 34 in 1917, and is representative of the white savior complex that was common at the time and associated with Stewart

There is a lot that can be said about residential schools and about Stewart in general, such as the way white people viewed and operated the school, the drastic differences in experience of students across the school’s 90 years of operation, and the historical trauma and reclaiming of the space by the Nevada Indian Commission today. I encourage you to learn more at their website. But for the purposes of this blog, I’m going to focus on one element of the school – the band.

Considering Stewart’s legacy of forced assimilation and the punishment of students’ cultural heritage (like language, music, and traditions), I expected to be writing a post about how the school’s band was just another tool of assimilation and erasure. But while it was undoubtedly part of that same structure of assimilation and cultural violence, my research led me to view the Stewart band’s legacy as more complex than just that.

Since documentation was much harder to find for the earlier years of operation, I’m focusing on the last 40 or so years of operation, from the 1940s to 1980. Looking through many school yearbooks from this era, I found that the band was always featured prominently. It had at least it’s own page and often many pictures, sometimes accompanied by a description of the band’s accomplishments. The band was public facing, competing at competitions, performing at the Nevada Day Parade, and giving public concerts. I managed to find an aural resource, a description from the son of former band director Earl Laird (director from 1930-1939) which described Laird as a beloved teacher, and an interview clip of an alumnus of the band from the 1940s who described playing in the Nevada Day Parade as “the biggest highlight”.

Based on my preliminary research in the yearbook archives and the audio recording, my impression is that the band was important to the students, at least in the later years of operation. So despite being part of an institution of forced assimilation and being inextricably linked to this horrible legacy, perhaps within the context of the school itself the band offered some sort of relief. More research is necessary to fully understand the Stewart band, but one thing is certain – it has a complex legacy.

 

Bibliography

Nevada and California Indians. Board of Indian Commissioners Bulletin No. 34, 1917. American Indian Histories and Cultures. https://www.aihc.amdigital.co.uk/Documents/Images/Ayer_MS_911_BX05_1/110
Tara Williams, and Susan M. Tracz. “Taking Back the Fire: Schooling Experiences of Central California Indian People Across Generations.” Journal of American Indian Education 55, no. 2 (2016): 75–98. https://doi.org/10.5749/jamerindieduc.55.2.0075.
“Stewart Indian School ‘Home of the Braves.’” YouTube, YouTube, 24 Feb. 2021, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGP2nxlgA6E&t=1255s.

“Stewart Indian School Trail Map.” Stewart Indian School, https://stewartindianschool.com/walking-trail/.