Can You Still Hear "America" Singing??
In Response to Walt Whitman and Langston Hughes
Can you still hear "America" singing?
(The word betrays our arrogance...
As if Canada, Mexico, Guatemala, or Venezuela
Were any less a part of the Americas.)
Or have we plugged our ears up with electronics..
Tied to umbilical cords of charging stations,
Blind to the voices of our fellow humans?
I enter the Amish farm market
And am serenaded by a woman's angelic singing voice.
Her plain clothes signify no dreams of commercial success...
Just the sweet contentment of a happy worker.
I hear "America" singing.
My ancestors arrived on the Mayflower,
Escaping religious persecution.
I hear their thankful hymns
As they unwittingly bring smallpox
To their native hosts.
The tribes drumming and chanting mixes with the sounds of birds
As red blood mingles with white in marriage vows.
I hear "America" singing.
The United States...
The Great Experiment.
Ben and Tom pen the words of self-evident equality,
Blind to the their biases of race and gender,
And give us the hopeful framework.
A raucous chorus of "Yankee Doodle"
I hear "America" singing.
Jim Wallis calls racism America's original sin.
I hear the spirituals sung in sun-scorched fields
Of scarred, sweaty black bodies
Foretelling of night flights
In a secret, subterranean railroad.
I hear "America" singing.
White faces are distracted,
Praising the progress of more visible trains
Connecting East with West
While drowning out the shrieks of red-skinned ghost dancers.
The genocide of the Trail of Tears...
But I can still hear "America" singing.
Ragtime and bicycles-
Ships of immigrants greet the Lady in the Harbor
Weaving tunes in their native tongues
While toiling in unsafe factories.
I hear "America" singing.
Sister suffragettes linking arms,
Songs of solidarity to fend off assault
Learning to dance the suffrajitsu
I hear "America" singing.
Despite being conceived in sin of racism,
Muddied in colonialism,
Seduced by Gilded Age greed,
"America" has birthed some epic music.
The hardships of Jim Crow begat the Blues,
Jazz tunes wafted through Harlem and New Orleans,
and Billie Holiday sang "Strange Fruit."
Scotch-Irish ballads nourished Appalachia
The very soil of traditional Folk
And the dust bowl and union-busters
Brought forth Woody Guthrie and the Protest Song.
J Edgar Hoover created the Red Scare,
Blacklisting and muffling Pete Seeger
Until Johnny Cash gave him his voice back...
Yes, Johnny Cash and the evolution of Country music.
Native American drumbeats, Rhythm and Blues, Boogie-Woogie, Doo-Wop
All rolled into rock-and-roll
California Surf sounds...
And what of Motown and Soul?
The soundtrack to MLK's Dream.
That morphed into the Rock of the Civil Rights Era
Psychedelic, Heavy Metal,
Folk Rock War protest songs.
Latin rhythms infusing Disco...
Then came Hip Hop
The cadence of black preachers evolved into Rapp
The list goes on...
St Joan Baez
Our Lady of Perpetual Wisdom
Said #45 was elected because we were not listening....
"America" has sold her soul at the Crossroads,
Seduced by concern for those yet to be born
And wanting cheaper eggs.
The voices of the vulnerable have been drown out-
The school yard rhymes of children already here,
The psalms of lament from the poor,
The dirges of fleeing refugees,
The lyrics penned by prisoners,
The protest songs of immigrants,
The shouts of the rocks and trees.
The cries of the Earth itself.
Yet, I can still hear "America" singing.
I hear her music in the vocalizations of my nonverbal friends,
My friends with intellectual disabilities.
I hear her in the whistled tunes of volunteers
Who build houses for Habitat for Humanity.
I hear her in the worship songs
Sung faithfully at the local prison Bible Study.
I hear her in the Muslim call to prayer
When I think of a sweet Afghan refugee
Who fled the Taliban and forced marriage.
I hear her voice in the ocean surf,
The rustle of wind in the trees,
And the crack of thunder in the sky.
In every loving act of ordinary people,
Every bird chirp and bee buzz,
I hear "America" singing of deep lament
AND extraordinary hope.
About the Creator
Julia Schulz
I enjoy crafting poetry and telling stories. I especially love being in the "zone" when I take a deep dive with my subject matter, developing characters and settings and researching topics like history and sustainable living.
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