Martin Luther King waves to his supporters on the Mall in Washington, DC, on August 28, 1963, during the March for Jobs and Freedom on Washington, where King gave his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. Many musicians, including Marian Anderson, Mahalia Jackson, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Odetta and The Freedom Singers, were also at the march.

AFP/Getty Images

Hide caption

Toggle label

AFP/Getty Images

Close your eyes and imagine America. What do you see? I think it depends on who you are, but when I close my own eyes a very specific image immediately appears. It is a black and white photograph that predates my time, but is embedded in my landscape of family history and mythology. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., seen in profile, with a serene smile on his face, his right arm raised toward the sky and striking the obelisk of the Washington Monument in the background. Behind him, the National Mall is full of people crowded on all sides of the reflecting pool. It’s August 28, 1963 – the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom – and King is giving his “I Have a Dream” speech.

Zoom out. What we don’t see in the photo is the chaos that framed that moment and the two centuries of history that made it so necessary, but this image clearly shows the hope that is possible in America, the urge to work together in the pursuit of a dream.

Zoom in again. About 250,000 people were there that day, having traveled thousands of kilometers by plane and train, by bus and on foot. Among them were civil rights activists and legends like Rosa Parks, as well as celebrities from Jackie Robinson to James Baldwin to Paul Newman. And there was music at the march. Marian Anderson, Mahalia Jackson, Bob Dylan, Joan Baez, Peter, Paul and Mary, Odetta and The Freedom Singers sang spirituals, freedom songs and folk hymns as the crowd sang along. As a musician who cares deeply about hope, peace and freedom, I have always thought about how incredibly lucky these artists were to be part of such a proud moment in our history.

But maybe I was looking through rose-colored glasses. The other night I listened to an interview with Rita Moreno, who was standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial that day, just about 10 feet from Dr. King removed. She went to the march because Harry Belafonte invited her, and it was an unforgettable experience that changed her life. But, she said, she was afraid to be there. She had just won an Oscar for her role as Anita in West Side Story – the first Latina to ever win an Oscar. Participation in the march threatened serious professional consequences; She was afraid she would never work again and that she would be blacklisted in Hollywood. She was afraid of the physical violence that could have so easily erupted that day. But in her own words: “At some point in life you have to take responsibility… you have to be responsible for what is.” She faced her fears and showed herself.

American artists persisted despite all the difficulties and turmoil of the 20th century. The great American contralto Marian Anderson gave a historic concert for an integrated audience on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1939, the same year Billie Holiday sang and recorded for the first time.Strange fruit“. Paul Robeson, Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie faced each other Ku Klux Klan attacks at a concert for the Civil Rights Convention in Peekskill, New York, 10 years later. American musicians Hazel Scott to Aaron Copland confronted the personal and professional dangers of the McCarthy-era blacklists. Joan Baez was just 22 years old when she led the crowd singing “We Shall Overcome” at the March on Washington. It was just three weeks later that members of the KKK in Birmingham, Alabama, bombed the 16th Street Baptist Church, killing four young girls – a horrific act of violence that inspired Nina Simone to write her song “Mississippi Goddam.”

Musicians perform for 25,000 civil rights demonstrators in Montgomery, Alabama, following a speech by Martin Luther King Jr. on March 25, 1965. Cast members (left to right) include Mary Travers, Harry Belafonte, Leon Bibb, Joan Baez and Oscar Brand.

Stephen F. Somerstein/Getty Images

Hide caption

Toggle label

Stephen F. Somerstein/Getty Images

This is all history now, recorded in photos, film clips and recordings that have taken on the patina of a legend. But back then there was nothing photogenic about showing up there. It was an act of resistance and courage that required confronting real and present dangers. Judy Collins told me of threatening encounters on dark country roads while registering voters in Mississippi in 1964. I spoke with the pianist and producer Robert Glasper, who said he heard from Harry Belafonte about the threats he faced in the wake of his own remarkable activism. You can listen to Pete Seeger’s music for yourself First hand report the violence at the Peekskill concert in 1949.

If Martin Luther King had not been assassinated in the prime of his life, he would be 96 years old today. Imagine what this alternate reality version of America could look like. Since that hopeful August day in 1963, there has been so much violence and hatred – so many reasons to give up hope altogether. As a musician looking at the long arc of history, I realize that it is now up to me to show up, ready and willing to achieve the dream that Dr. King fought, along with so many members of that generation, including my own parents. I don’t know exactly what this will mean – maybe I’ll have to face my own fears, maybe more. But I know that it means holding on to what I love about American music and using its power wisely to unite us when nothing else seems to be the case.

Tonight some of my musician friends are gathering in New York City for a so-called “Reflection on America” ​​to honor Dr. To honor King on his birthday, focusing on hope and love, resistance and perseverance. We will play and sing songs old and new, remembering the past and reflecting on the present. MLK loved music and believed in its powers. And that day, music was his metaphor on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial as he spoke about what he envisioned for America: “transforming the clanging discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.” I’m trying to focus on that beautiful vision to focus on. As hard as it may be to see clearly at the moment, I’m keeping my eyes wide open.