Head of School’s Notebook: Black Joy

January 21, 2022

We began our celebration of Martin Luther King Day on Monday with drums. There is something elemental about the sounds and rhythms of percussion. We respond naturally, almost instinctively, even at 9:00 a.m. on a Monday morning. The drummers themselves, led by our own Mamadou Pouye, hailed from Senegal, Burkina Faso, Ivory Coast, and Guinea, and they launched us into a program whose theme was Black Joy.

I say “launched” but, in truth, it took a few minutes to get us all on our feet. Comfortable in our seats around the amphitheater, we were content to watch and enjoy. But that is not the way.  The drums ask for more. So do the drummers.

Mamadou rose, left his djembe long enough to find me in the crowd, and pulled me to the center of the amphitheater. I was in the front row and made it far too easy for him. And we danced, gave ourselves over to the sounds and sensations of the moment, much to the amusement of everyone there. When Mamadou returned to his drum, I continued alone. His message was clear, after all. Full commitment of the body and soul is the only way to answer the drum.

Then Yutopia Essex joined me, Jenna deBoisblanc, Jae Hall-Collins ’23, Kadeine Peterson, and ultimately most of the school. It was a memorable beginning for a day in which we celebrated the hope that lives powerfully in people who have every reason to forsake it. The very hope that galvanized Dr. King and inspired a movement to build a better nation.

Mother Nature got involved, too. After Kadeine Peterson and Randy Person, Raquel Graham, and the dancing of Kalia Lopez ’22 and her companions, Yutopia Essex stepped to the microphone to deliver a spoken word poem that she and Maude Bond had composed. The skies had been gradually darkening throughout the sessions, and it began to sprinkle as Yutopia found her voice.

The journey to joy is through pain, we sustain, resilient in motion, through the commotion, we confront our past and live in the now,” she said.

And the rain, as though anticipating what lay ahead, came down more steadily.

She spoke of history, subjugation, and assault. “The Black was holding on by a thin worn-out string,” Yutopia chanted.

The rain fell harder.  

“Is this a window in
or a reflection?
connection
to our start
Why Dr. King and millions marched
played their part
Not by choice
By obligation
manifestation
of a dream.”

By now it was pouring. But nobody moved. Like the drums, the language called us to respond to their meaning, to matter “by obligation,” to fight through the storm.

“We demand
to stand
in our truth”

Yutopia finished.

And as we headed off to share a meal together and participate in a series of film screenings in the afternoon, no doubt many were thinking of that iconic moment in Washington 58 years ago, when Dr. King imagined out loud about the world that might be.

Dreams can be made real. As long as we are willing to do the work. That should be all our truth.