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Archive for the ‘Music’ Category

It could have been me

But instead it was you

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two

I’ll be a student of life

A singer of songs

A farmer of food

And a righter of wrong

It could have been me

But instead it was you

Well it might be me, dear sisters and brothers

Before we’re through

But if you can live for freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom

If you can live for freedom I can too

 

Students in Ohio

Two hundred yards away

Shot down by a aimless fire

One early day in May

Some people cried out angry

“You should have shot more of them down!”

But you can’t bury youth my friend

Youth grows the whole world ‘round

 

It could have been me

But instead it was you

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two

I’ll be a student of life

A singer of songs

A farmer of food

And a righter of wrong

It could have been me

But instead it was you

Well it might be me, dear sisters and brothers

Before we’re through

But if you can die for freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom

If you can die for freedom I can too

 

The junta took the fingers

From Victor Jara’s hands

They said to the gentle poet

“Play your guitar now if you can!”

Well Victor starting singing

Until they shot his body down

You can kill a man, but not a song

When it’s sung the whole world ‘round

 

It could have been me

But instead it was you

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two

I’ll be a student of life

A singer of songs

A farmer of food

And a righter of wrong

It could have been me

But instead it was you

Well it might be me, dear sisters and brothers

Before we’re through

But if you can sing for freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom

If you can sing for freedom I can too

 

A young girl in the jungle

Ten thousand miles away

Studies late into the night

And defends a village by day

Although her skin is golden

Like mine will never be

Her song is heard, I know the words

And I’ll sing it ‘til she’s free

 

It could have been me

But instead it was you

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two

I’ll be a student of life

A singer of songs

A farmer of food

And a righter of wrong

It could have been me

But instead it was you

Well it might be me, dear sisters and brothers

Before we’re through

But if you can fight for freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom

If you can fight for freedom I can too

 

It could have been me

But instead it was you

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two

I’ll be a student of life

A singer of songs

A farmer of food

And a righter of wrong

It could have been me

But instead it was you

Well it might be me, dear sisters and brothers

Before we’re through

But if you believe in freedom

Freedom, freedom, freedom

If you believe in freedom I can too

I can too…I can too

 

I’ve always loved this song. I first learned of it when I saw Holly perform at a concert in Madison, Wisconsin back in the early 1980’s. Madison was the first place I moved to after I left Gallaudet College, and it was a very instrumental city in shaping me into the person I have become today. It was a rather liberal town in those days, and continues to be to this day…although perhaps not on quite the same level. Back then Madison was teasingly (but not so erroneously) referred to as “an escape from reality.” It’s where I got involved in two things that continue to be a strong part of my identity today – Feminism and Paganism.

Madison had a strong women’s community, and it wasn’t long before I got involved in it. I had moved to Madison as the result of a friendship I had begun with a woman I met at Gallaudet – a woman who was herself a feminist and lesbian, as well as being involved in a Deaf services program at a local mental hospital. She was also a lover of women’s music, and it was through her that I was introduced to the music of individuals like Holly Near, Meg Christian, and others. These women were considered “pioneers” of the Women’s Music Movement, and thirty years later their names and their songs are still fondly remembered.

Holly was always my favorite. She frequently performed with a sign language interpreter, which of course was quite beneficial for me. I always enjoyed watching her in concert (I think I have attended three or four of them over the years.) After attending the first concert, I purchased one of her albums, the one that includes this song. It’s been one of my favorites ever since, although there are several songs of Holly’s that I really like.

Obviously it is a political activist song. I can’t say that I have ever really viewed myself as a strong political activist, although there are certainly causes that I will and do take a stand for. But the stories told through this song are ones that I can identify with, and support.

“Students in Ohio” refers to the students of Kent State who on May 4, 1970 participated in a protest against the Vietnam War, in which four students were killed by members of the National Guard. I’ve always been pretty much anti-war, and I’ve participated in a protest or two myself. It’s not that I don’t support our military, and the brave men and women who put their lives at risk to protect our country – I do. But I don’t support our government’s use of the military. I don’t support the billions of dollars being used to fight wars in other countries when we have plenty of problems right here at home that need such financial support.

Victor Jara was Chilean poet, theater director, songwriter, and a social activist who led a movement in his country for democracy, and an ending of tyranny and dictatorship. When the country was overthrown by a coupe, Victor was seized, tormented and shot to death. I didn’t know anything about him until this song… but I have to admire and applaud his willingness to sacrifice his life for something he believed so strongly in. Could I do the same? I’m not sure. There are things that I do indeed feel very strongly about, but to the point of dying for them? That’s a hard call. Of course, I doubt that Victor himself really wanted to die or even intended to do so – it was his fate to suffer such a consequence for his actions and beliefs. But he knew he was putting his life at risk, and that is admirable. I suppose that while I have no desire to die myself, there are things I would fight to the death to maintain – my proud identity as a Deaf person and everything that represents to me…my freedom to practice my spirituality as I desire…the equal opportunity to achieve my dreams and goals. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

The final verse talks about a young woman attempting to maintain her status as a student while engaging in battle at the same time. I’m a big believer in education, but I don’t feel we should have to fight a war for it…so it saddens me to have to think that even today there are women out there who are in fact having to do so. Education shouldn’t have to come at such a high price. I’m not sure if I can say that I do know the words to her song, but I will certainly dance to the music…and I will continue to play the song as long as I know that there are women out there who are not free to study, to learn, to explore all the possibilities.

So let’s examine the chorus here. That’s the part of the song that I truly enjoy…

It could have been me, but instead it was you.

This begs the question…who is “you?” Who does s/he represent to me?

The first thing that comes to mind is my mother, and our mutual battle with cancer (Mom’s being breast cancer, mine being uterine). She lost her battle…I survived mine. I do think about that, although I have become somewhat silent on the whole cancer topic of late. However, I do support cancer causes – I participated as a Deaf representative in the Cancer Parade that took place at Churchill Downs before the running of the Kentucky Oaks in 2011, to honor my mother and all Deaf women who have battled/are battling/died from breast cancer.

When I think of this line in connection to the Deaf Community, I am reminded of a scene from the TV show “Switched At Birth” – in which Marlee Matlin is scolding a student for goofing off in a Deaf Culture class where they are discussing famous Deaf leaders from the past. Marlee tells the student “These Deaf leaders broke open the doors to give us the opportunities we have now. You will not disrespect their achievements by slacking off in my class!”

I loved that scene. I loved the power that it invoked. Whenever I start to feel powerless or start to feel like I can’t do anything, or start to feel oppressed as a result of being Deaf, I remember that scene. I start to think of these people as the “you”…the ones who in spite of all the obstacles, pushed forward and made things happen so that I might be able to succeed in their shadows. I owe them a great debt of gratitude, and I promise not to slack off in their class.

As a Pagan, the “you” makes me think of the thousands of men and women who died in the name of witchcraft during the “Burning Times” – the Inquisition, a time when the witchcraft craze swept through Europe and many lost their lives due to fear, paranoia, greed, revenge, and a lust for power. Interestingly, the majority of those who died during this time were not witches, even if they were accused as such. “Witch” simply became a convenient catch-call term to label someone you didn’t like…

Someone you wanted to get rid of.

Of course, as a modern-day Pagan I bear little resemblance to these individuals who were put to death in these olden times, but I still experience some of what they did – the fear, the ignorance, the misunderstandings, the labels. Even in this modern age, witches are still thought of in outdated ways. I’m still not totally free to come out of the broom closet and declare myself as a Pagan to any and all…although for the most part I am pretty open about my spirituality.

So I’ll keep doing the work you were doing as if I were two…

It’s important to me to remember that every right I have as an individual – as a Woman, as a Deaf person, as a Pagan – was won for me by people fighting hard. There are children being born right now who won’t even have the same rights I do unless I act to maintain and extend the range of equality. The nourishing stew of civilized life doesn’t keep bubbling on its own. It’s up to me to put something back in the cauldron for the people in line behind me.

I’ll be a student of life…

I’m always curious to learn more about what life has to offer…what makes the world go round, what makes people tick. I would love to travel more and experience more. I want to be able to live life with gusto, and enjoy every moment of it. I’ve experienced a lot in my own life and it hasn’t always been pleasant, but I like to think that all those experiences have taught me something…and will continue to teach me until the day I pass on.

A singer of songs…

Okay, maybe not a singer. I fear that if I was to try and sing, I would drive everyone out of the room. But I do like music. I grew up the only deaf child in an all-hearing family, and attending hearing schools until I went to Gallaudet. So music was a part of my life, and it continues to be – although I am not as up-to-date on the latest musical hits. I tend to prefer the “oldies but goodies.” While at Gallaudet, I was part of a performing group that translated songs into sign language. I still enjoy doing that from time to time, but don’t get the opportunity to do so very often any longer. I do find that sometimes I use songs I know to express what I am thinking or what I am feeling.

A farmer of food…

I love gardening. Both sets of grandparents had farms, and I grew up in the country. As a child, we had a garden at our house, and grew our own veggies. There’s nothing better than home-grown tomatoes, green beans and sweet corn. We would pick blackberries from my grandparents farm and make cobbler. Sometimes one of my grandparents would kill a chicken and we would have that for dinner – fried, roasted, or stewed with dumplings. There were fresh eggs, and fresh milk from the cows. My grandmother taught me how to make my own butter. My family also fished a lot and there were lakes at the farm. I grew up on a lot of fried bluegills! My father was a hunter, so sometimes he would bring home squirrel, quail, and other game. So I really did grow up with the concept of either growing or hunting your own food. I do prefer eating fresh food – I rarely eat anything out of a can. When it can’t be fresh, I do frozen. I like to eat local when possible, so I do enjoy farmers markets, where I can buy locally grown produce and other food items. I’m hoping that perhaps this year I can put the garden in the back yard that I want, and grow some of my own stuff – herbs, vegetables and the like.

And a righter of wrong…

I have been an advocate for most of my adult life. Much of my advocacy efforts have been in the area of deafness, but I have also advocated for women’s rights, gay rights, religious freedom, anti-violence, ending war, animal rights, environmentalism, and other issues that I believe in. I feel it is important that if you object to something, you need to speak up and do something about it. We can’t just sit back and let things happen without trying to make some kind of changes. If nothing else, we can educate and try to replace ignorance with knowledge.

As Witches and Pagans, we can use all of our magickal skills to dig into the world and push it into better shape. We can try to clean the air and the water. We can try to make the justice system work. We can bring the day a little closer when the rich and privileged have to live by the same standards as the poor and outcast. We can try to stop the next war now, BEFORE it starts, to keep old men from sending children away to die.

I won’t promise that we can right every wrong in this world, but we might at least be able to make enough changes to allow ourselves to bask in the feeling that all in all, things do seem to be moving in the right direction.

But if you can live/die/sing/fight for freedom, I can too…

That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? Freedom is a nice thing, but it comes with certain responsibilities…the biggest one being an obligation to help maintain it. That doesn’t mean we have to sacrifice our lives for it – although there are people who risk and do such on a daily basis. It does mean that we need to remember to never just take it for granted, and to do what what we can to extend those freedoms to others who desire it.

But if you believe in freedom, I can too. 

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Recently a pal of mine put up the following post on her Facebook wall:

Woke up with an overwhelming need to sob – is everyone I love okay? Please check with me or by text. Wow, not kidding, never felt like this before.

And in checking with some of my other friends, I find that this case of the blues seems to be going around. People are feeling a uncontrollable urge to just “sit down, have a good cry, and get it out of my system.”

good cry

I don’t think such a feeling is all that surprising right now…in fact, I would be more surprised if you weren’t feeling this way.

We are coming up on the Sabbat of Imbolc – the first Sabbat of 2013. We have said goodbye to what was – for many of us – a difficult and trying period in 2012. We may have survived our own personal Tower Time, but we are still dealing with the after-effects. And those after-effects are leaving many of us feeling rather raw. As those raw feelings come to the surface, they often get expressed in the form of tears. Don’t be ashamed of such tears, for they can be quite healing…a cooling and soothing balm for our emotions.

Tower Time is over. The tower has fallen, and we have taken our own tumbles along with it. We stand now amidst the ruins – a sometimes painful reminder of where we’ve been – and contemplate where we go from here. And the tears fall. Even as we welcome the changes this new year brings, we must also take a moment to grieve that which we have left behind. Change means letting go, and that doesn’t always come easy.

fallen tower

For many of us, Imbolc occurs at the coldest time of the year – when temperatures plunge and fierce icy winds chill us to the bone. But those winds can be a positive thing also. I am reminded of what my friend Byron recently shared on her own Facebook wall:

Let this brisk and scraping wind blow through the spiritual and emotional detritus in your life and send it off to be composted. Allow this crisp air to cool your confusion and self-doubt and make way for clear forward motion and effective action.

Yes, let these winds blow. As cold as they might feel, they serve a purpose…blowing off the dust of debris from fallen towers, stripping us bare that we might stand shivering and exposed, confronting our own stark nakedness. Yet let that nakedness be a sign of your own rebirth, as you take those first steps forward.

arcadefire-coldwind

I am reminded of a song from one of my favorite musicals – “Morning Glow” from the Broadway production Pippin. While the scenario for this song within the play may not be the greatest, I do feel the lyrics in and of themselves are appropriate for a celebration of Imbolc as they speak to us about the “winds of change”…

Why won’t my hands stop shaking
When all the earth is still
When ancient ghosts are waking
So many steps need taking
So many plans need making
I think I will
I think I will

Morning glow, morning glow
Starts to glimmer when you know
Winds of change are set to blow
And sweep this whole land through
Morning glow is long past due

Morning glow fill the earth
Come and shine for all you’re worth
We’ll be present at the birth
Of old faith looking new
Morning glow is long past due

Oh, morning glow, I’d like to help you grow
We should have started long ago

So, morning glow all day long
While we sing tomorrow’s song
Never knew we could be so strong
But now it’s very clear

Morning glow is almost here

Morning glow by your light
We can make the new day bright
And the phantoms of the night
Will fade into the past
Morning glow is here

At last!

The winds of change herald the dawning of a new day. Yes, there are many plans to be made, many steps to be taken. But Imbolc brings with it the promise of hope – the light has returned and we can indeed look forward to morning’s glow. We have survived, and now old faith can shine anew.

So dry your tears…wrap yourself in a warm blanket…face the wind…then light some candles and watch those phantoms of the night fade into the past.

And may morning glow bring you a most blessed Imbolc.

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On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, my Goddess gave to me…

twelve drummers drumming.

women drummers

On this, the final day of the twelve days, I have chosen to once again focus on a book in my own personal library…

When the Drummers Were Women is an inspiring history of feminine power and spirituality, a shamanic journey to call the beat back into our tribal hearts. Layne Redmond, herself an accomplished musician and expert on the ancient history of women in music, has written a book that delves deeply into the chronicle of women as drummers and leaders of rituals.

drummers book

As Redmond explains in the introduction of her book, handheld frame drums are among the oldest known musical instruments, and the rituals of the earliest known religions evolved around the beat of such drums. These religions were founded on the worship of female deities – the Divine Feminine, Mother Goddess herself. In these days of old, women’s bodies were considered sacred – due to their ability to procreate life. As a result, it was women who were the first priests, and sacred drumming one of their primary skills.

In modern times, drummers have been almost exclusively men, but more and more women are rediscovering their ancient birthright. Every year there are more professional women percussionists – including Dame Evelyn Glennie, a Scottish percussionist who although profoundly deaf, still mesmerizes audiences with her musical skills.

1_evelyn_glennie

Women today are on a spiritual quest, prompted by a deep longing to understand who they are and what their purpose in life is. Part of satisfying that longing is in rediscovering an ancient wisdom that teaches them how to connect – to themselves, to one another, and to the sacred energies of the universe. Drumming becomes a big part of making that connection, of raising those sacred energies. Everywhere women are coming together in sacred drum circles…seeking not merely to make music, but to create special bonds of consciousness and healing.

Modern archeology has discovered examples of drumming in ancient cultures around the world. From the caves of the Paleolithic to the pyramids of Egypt, from the temples of Greece to the palaces of India…sacred sound has had its place in the practices of ancient spirituality. And with such sound, the priestesses gave honor to the Great Goddess herself who went by many names.

ancient drummer

The ancient Cretan goddess Rhea sat in her cave and played her frame drum. The Egyptian goddesses Hathor and Sekhmet are depicted with drums on the walls of temples along the Nile. Durga, the Hindu warrior goddess, carries a damaru – a small double-headed, hourglass-shaped drum used for meditative practices.

But perhaps the best known goddess associated with the drum is Cybele, whose rituals traveled with the trade winds throughout the Mediterranean world. She arose from the remains of the Neolithic goddess of Catal Huyuk, an ancient city in what is now Turkey, that flourished from 7200 to 5500 B.C. In the classical world she became known and worshipped as “Cybele, the All-Begetting Mother, who beats a drum to mark the rhythm of life.” Indeed, her frame drum was one of her most important objects – symbolizing the moon, and the primordial egg of creation, whose beat is the pulse of life.

400px-Bronze_statuette_of_Cybele

With the onset of Christianity, the role of women as sacred priestesses and musicians was suppressed:

Women are ordered not to speak in church, not even softly,

nor may they sing along or take part in the responses,

but they should only be silent and pray to God.

~ Didascalia of the Three Hundred Eighteen Fathers, circa A.D.  375

Christians are not allowed to teach their daughters singing,

the playing of instruments, or similar things because,

according to their religion, it is neither good nor becoming.

~ Commandments of the Fathers, Superiors and Masters, circa A.D. 576

But the music did not die…nor did the women who offered up their sacred rhythms to honor the Divine Feminine. It continued in the guise of feminine angels singing the praises of the Virgin Mary…

angels with drums

Today, the beat goes on. More and more women are reclaiming their role as drummers, and writing the next chapters to the ancient history which is told in this book. Not only WERE the drummers women…they continue to be.

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On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my Goddess gave to me…

nine ladies dancing.

Terpsichore

Mention dance, and you are apt to be drawn into a terpsichorean discussion of plies and pirouettes, Rumbas and Reels, Twists and Tangos…all in reverence to that goddess of the dance ~

Terpsichore.

In Greek mythology, Terpsichore is one of the nine Muses – the goddesses considered the source of all knowledge; the inspiration for literature, science, and the arts. The Muses are the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne – the goddess of memory. They consisted of Calliope (muse of epic song/poetry), Clio (muse of history), Euterpe (muse of lyrical song/poetry), Melpomene (muse of tragedy), Terpsichore (muse of dance), Erato (muse of erotic/love poetry), Polyhymnia (muse of sacred song), Urania (muse of astronomy), and Thalia (muse of comedy).

Muses_sarcophagus_Louvre_MR880

Terpsichore is generally depicted as seated with a lyre, thus accompanying the dancers with her music:

Muse-Terpsichore-Hermitage

She is also sometimes said to be the mother of the Sirens, those “femme fatales” who lured mariners to their deaths with their enchanting song and voice, thus shipwrecking them upon the rocks along the coast of their island home. A Greek epic of the third century B.C. writes of

“The clear-voiced Seirenes (Sirens), Akheloos’ (Achelous’) daughters, used to bewitch with their seductive melodies whatever sailors anchored there. Lovely Terpsikhore (Terpsichore), one of the Mousai (Muses), has borne them to Akheloos, and at one time they had been handmaids to Demeter’s gallant Daughter [Persephone], before she was married, and sung to her in chorus.”

Even in modern days, Terpsichore is still remembered and referenced…

Fred Astaire expresses his desire “to flirt with Terpsichore” as the reason for wanting to learn to dance in the 1936 movie Swing Time, which paired him with one of his best-known partners, Ginger Rogers, in what has been considered their best dance musical. Rita Hayworth played the role of the muse in the 1947 film Down to Earth; and Olivia Newton-John took on the role in the 1980 film Xanadu. Even the “Chairman of the Board” Frank Sinatra pays homage to the goddess of dance in the lyric “what an evening for some Terpsichore” from the song Come Dance With Me.

And on a daily basis, somewhere someone is invoking Terpsichore whenever they make a move on the dance floor.

dancing couple

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