humanity
Humanity topics include pieces on the real lives of music professionals, amateurs, inspiring students, celebrities, lifestyle influencers, and general feel good human stories in the music sphere.
The Blank Book
It didn’t take Maya long to figure out that if she wanted a music notebook, she wasn’t going to find it on the rack with the other little black notebooks. She sighed and looked out into the falling snow thinking about where the closest music store might be. She didn’t remember seeing one except all the way downtown in Boston two subway rides away. Being that she couldn’t even be sure the music store had survived the pandemic she decided against trying to get there that night. Maya turned back to the rack of notebooks to see if any of the little black notebooks on the rack could be used in a pinch to write music. She grabbed a lined one and headed to the cashier. Halfway there she decided that perhaps a completely blank one would work better as she could draw in what she needed so she turned back to the rack where she saw a young man, maybe half her age, looking as if he was deciding what he wanted. Maya stopped for a moment to give him a chance to decide, watching as he indecisively looked over the books. In a quick movement he suddenly took a small black book, identical to those on the shelf, out of his pocket and returned it to the shelf then turned and quickly left. She was intrigued at his actions and went over to look at what he had placed on the shelf. Had he considered stealing it but thought better of that and brought it back? Was he returning it for money? Seemed unlikely as he had not gone to cashier. His actions seemed strange. Maya wanted to see what he had put back on the rack, so she found the book he placed on the shelf and opened it. It was music ruled, just what she needed which somehow that made his actions seem even stranger. Other than the blank music staves, there was nothing in the book that she could see. Although she found it odd that a music book had suddenly appeared, Maya was delighted! She grabbed it and headed to the cashier, then out into the snowy night and home.
By Heather S Duffy5 years ago in Beat
Black Women in Music
My Name When meeting someone for the first time, I often introduce myself as, “Dionne, like Warwick, without the voice!” This greeting is usually met with a smile or a chuckle or a shared memory of one of Ms. Warwick’s greatest hits. A belted rendition of Do You Know the Way to San Jose or Walk on By often follows as we giggle with the awareness of shared interest. On many occasions, the other person and I will swap stories. This bonding moment offers me an opportunity to share how I was named for my Mother’s favorite singer Dionne Warwick and grew up listening and singing along to all her greatest tunes. By the end of the exchange, I usually know a little about them and they too learn a little about me. I walk away from the encounter delighted in knowing that “black girl magic” is alive, real, and exist!
By Dionne Boissard5 years ago in Beat
Tulsa, Tina, and Me
To this day I’m a mediocre housekeeper and it’s Tina Turner’s fault. You see, every Saturday mom would get me and my sisters to clean the house by playing music. Really loud music. We had one of those enormous cabinet stereos that housed the turntable, speakers, and record collection — the showpiece of every hip 1960s living room.
By Julie Thompson5 years ago in Beat
Worthy
It is said music can heal a broken heart, restore a fragmented soul and regenerate the body. Me, being the skeptic gal, did not want to give credit to the mumbo jumbo of “music is universal” and “music helps to reduce heart rate, lower blood pressure and cortisol in the body”. If that was true, how come when I listen to Metallica, I just want to be in the middle of a boxing ring beating the hell out of something? No, sir. No ma’am. Music has a purpose and that is to entertain the masses or be a temporary band-aid for unwanted feelings. The universe, knowing how shallow I can be for my limited beliefs on occasion, decides to throw a curveball and show me, once and for all, the power in music when it comes to my self-esteem.
By Nora Lunna5 years ago in Beat
A Misunderstanding
I remember listening to Careful by Cardi B, her music resonated with my soul at one point. It wasn’t what she said, but how she said it that made me believe her. I felt like I couldn’t agree more than with her subliminal words of pain, her pain expressed through the vibrations in my mind. Cardi’s words show the progression of love in our community, and the lack thereof. Listeners are far more interested in what’s cool and that has always been the issue, living an excessive lifestyle to satisfy the flesh. Anything that you find yourself doing more of "every now and then” is an addiction, which leads to future underlying issues. The feeling of being accepted has affected our body image, the country is built on a hypocritical view of how people are valued. A specific group like “women'' endure suffering from men and from their own gender. This country has a great way of making you feel responsible when the American lifestyle is killing the country, everyone's lives are slightly more dramatic due to people they meet. “Hurt people, hurt people” is a saying that has become common among us, we are turning “I did what I didn’t have to do” into a lifestyle. I often wonder if love is real and if I will survive it, if I would never see her again. I think there is a form of music that is yet to be discovered, where love isn’t always sexual and hate isn’t related to an intimate relationship. The narrative of black entertainment is a product of its own undoing, Tupac predicted a generation of men that hates women. The lack of respect men have for women is a lack of respect for themselves, where they interact with people who are not on they’re level. Demanding more from each other is a form of pushing them for better, but it’s more so a feeling that will latch onto you. Some people can’t be changed from a comfortable position, like African Americans who want change but boost the “murder rate”. It’s a snake pit and if you live here then you have made your bed in it. Our people aren’t lost, they're just miss placed in a world that controls everything involving their life without it involving them. Also stop with the surprise that black people can’t be great, we need to normalize black people being anything more than a corner hustler. Black people just need recognition and credit for what they do, that way black people aren’t surprised by what they can do. Everyone is an individual and someone are bound to get lost in translation of what is being said, some demonize what they don’t understand while others have lived it. Some see our way of living as a lifestyle inspiring others outside of the culture, when most people in it are trying to escape it. Are you informing yourself of our culture for the right reasons or is it just to make yourself look good? The Female voice has gotten stronger overtime. Measuring success in wealth or status makes you believe that the whole inside of you can be filled with material possessions. People may feel that music can’t affect you in a way, when it is the core of our culture. Music is the reflexion of the person writing it, and from what we hear these people lived dangerous and over sexualized lives. Music consumers have gotten the wrong idea about hip hop, no one is happy with the life they have to live otherwise why are they looking for better and listeners get the wrong idea of what is being said in hip hop.
By La’Garyus Bonney5 years ago in Beat
Sympathetic Resonance: A Resounding Cadence
Drowning in a sea of fear and uneasiness, a young musician stared across the dining room of the newly established private club. Patrons were pouring in on this fateful Saturday evening and the building would soon be filled to capacity. Tony finished his entree and quickly consumed the beer in his hand as the waitress handed him another. He was a well trained pianist, having studied with a great professor, but public performance had always proven to be his bane. Slipping out the back door Tony thought, just one more cigarette.
By Vince Coliam5 years ago in Beat
I Am What I Am
When I was little I had no idea that music had divisions. I thought the music I listened to with my father (country) was the same as when I listened to Michael Jackson with my brother or Boyz II Men with my friends, or, on the rare occasion that my mom would finally get tired of listening to country and my father wasn't in the car with us, someone like Gloria Gaynor would be her choice. When I learned there were differences, at least to other people, I tried hard to figure out what might separate out everyone’s choices. As much as I try, both as a little kid and as an adult, it’s all just music to me, so it could be said that I’m a terrible choice to write on it.
By Karalynn Rowley5 years ago in Beat
Never Grow Old
Few could be less qualified to talk about black women in music than I am. After all, I’m a white, middle-class male of late middle age who grew up in a working-class neighborhood in North London, listening to the film music of John Barry and grooving to The Beatles.
By Hamish Alexander5 years ago in Beat
You're Just too Good to Be True
Ever since I was little girl I loved to listen to music. On my own I had my favorites but I was also exposed to my parent's favorites. Anita Baker was a staple in our home and car. I learned to love her and soon would sing every song word for word. I mean come on, how cool was she singing "Caught Up in the Rapture"? Her voice was so smooth and she executed every song with such passion and soul. "No One in the World" had a voice like her until Toni Braxton came along.
By Dana Saunders5 years ago in Beat
The Wisdom Of Black Privilege: 'Survival Ain’t That Beautiful I’ve Just Made It Look This Good For You'
Where can I begin with Miiesha’s (pronounced My-ee-sha) music? In a few simple lyrics, she has addressed centuries of bias. And, she has ‘only’ released one collection of nine songs.
By Jasmine Wolfe5 years ago in Beat
