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Another song like "Moon River," displaying a similar kind of defiance as seen in the Louis Armstrong example, is "Hope," by Pete Josef. Different from most songs that are part of the soundtrack, this is a verbatim musical setting of a beloved poem by Emily Dickenson. One of the U.S.'s most popular poets, Dickenson wrote usually short poems of only a few lines.* * * * *
Dickenson's brief "Hope Is the Thing with Feathers," is a poetic reflection on the power of hope in the image of a songbird. It "perches in the soul," implying that it resides at great depth within a person's thoughts and feelings. In any time and place there remains a steady voice, singing "without words" and not stopping. Even strong storms cannot stop the bird's voice from coming through, giving strength to the soul, burning and warming like a fire. No matter how cold, no matter how far and foreign a place, hope holds forth with a vigorous, yet undemanding presence.
This song plays over the scene when Yusuf returns home from prison, as viewers peer into his inner drive to make a life although still feeling out of place among his family and friends. A steady voice of song within Yusuf is not silent, but defiantly rises up in him to achieve what none would expect of him. The scene then turns to the family of Kevin visiting the prison. Kevin is feeling lost there. His sister proceeds to talk to him about identifying "something to look forward to." It is a strategy of hope that gains strength from his inner power, bolstered by the truth that no matter how far away they are from him, he is never alone. What she sees deep in him "perches in the soul," and from that place will give him the strength to endure. The song reveals the young men's tenacity in the face of forces working to crush them. Though they are young and tender, like the delicate image of a songbird, they persist in their vision of a world that is not what others would claim it to be.
In the earlier post, I also identified a kind of defiance in the story of Ruby Bridges--readiness to place one's body over against the oppressive forces that would seek to destroy a people. It is a mode of living in an alternate narrative and reality, already before it is fully visible, that provides courage to take steps to change things. Mos Def's song "Umi Says" passes on the wisdom of generations, received by son from mother, to "shine your light on the world." Life offers no promises or guarantees. The song plays briefly in the film, as if from the car radio when Kevin is ridingwith his sister Angie. He is struggling with all that he has missed in life and with the many barriers he still faces after release from prison.* * * * *
She says, with the wisdom of "Umi," that he has what it takes to rise in his life.
You got time. A lot's changed, but you know what ain't changed. You. That was my biggest prayer for you--that you'd stay safe, and you'd stay your sweet self. I know you've seen things, maybe had to do things, defend yourself, survive, whatever might have happened. But in the end you have the same heart. You gotta carry that with you outta here, okay?With that strength of identity, she believes he can overcome. His life can matter for something greater. She can see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he longs to redeem the lost time, the damaged life, even the park where he was beaten and falsely accused. Mos Def's lyrics speak of the struggle and emotion, the desire to give up, to shrink back. Yet Umi keeps pressing him to know that his life has to count for more than just surviving with me and mine. He needs to be in the fight for freedom. He needs to be part of building a united front in the work of liberation. There is a path to take, and only when we place our full selves, our emotions, our hopes, our dreams, and our bodies on the line will we begin to see the change that we are becoming.
Another song that feeds into the Ruby Bridges kind of defiance is by Andreya Triana, "Song for a Friend." This song plays over a series of scenes with parents and family talking on the phone to their children in prison. Next the film shows how the families worked hard to be able to visit the young men while they were locked away. The song lyrics bring attention to the aspect of Ruby's story of spending a year as the only pupil in her class, facing so much hatred and attack for taking a stand. Yet she did not feel alone. She knew that her parents and their larger circle of friends were with her in the struggle. Her body was on the line each day, and yet their bodies were in line with her to embrace and uphold her. The very body of Jesus stood with her as she prayed for the forgiveness of her persecutors, using his own words toward those who had condemned him.* * * * *
In the same way, Ray's father and abuela put their bodies through the regular phone calls, the work to support him, the travel, the security searches, and in every way possible demonstrated their presence to him. He did not have to doubt that his bodily struggle found solidarity in them, and their embrace in the visiting room gave flesh and blood to the defiance of solidarity. Abuela reaches to touch Ray's arm under the voice of Antron's mother saying to her own son, "I'm walking through this with you."
Antron expresses regret that his mother has to work so hard to come see him, but she says she would come every day if allowed. "You're not too much trouble," she says. Digging deeper, she gets him to tell about what's troubling him. It's a dream that feels like a nightmare. It is so real he isn't sure whether he is awake or sleeping. He hears the sound of steps drawing closer. Each night, it seems they get even nearer. His mother soaks in that story, then flips the script on him. She tells him to keep on listening, because those steps are her feet getting closer every day to picking him up and taking him home.
Antron says, "I feel like everybody in the world hate me, Ma." But she replies that she loves him "enough to make up for everybody. All I do all day is love you." She goes through a litany of ways in which she will always be with him, describing the interconnection between his body and hers in the struggle of fear, pain, and joy as his life progresses.
The song's lyrics repeatedly focus on the love expressed through bodily presence: resting one's head on a shoulder, being held close, being brought into the arms of love, and having someone by one's side. These are given as evidence of never being alone, of support when it seems hard to breathe or to move, and of having a faithful friend to the very end. The family support of these young men is not merely an abstraction, but a defiance demonstrated through bodily presence.
The first post in this series on the defiant imagination brought together my experience of viewing When They See Us with scholarly work of Robert M. Franklin on the life and thought of Malcolm X. Malcolm's defiance, his refusal to be who the world had tried to make him to be, becomes a vocal type of defiance, a public challenge in word and agenda. Malcolm brought critical insight into the structures and systems of white supremacy and the cultural accommodation to racism. He demanded that things change, and if not by transformation of the whole society, then at least by construction of alternate patterns and structures that would insure justice for those who have suffered long under oppression.* * * * *
The opening songs of the first episode demonstrate a kind of confidence and brash self-acknowledgement that could represent the mindset of these young men. In the post-Civil Rights Movement era, recognition that many things had changed for the better, normalization of some levels of integration in housing, employment, education, and public facilities might provide a level of encouragement about the future of race relations. Yet the genius of white supremacy as an ideology is that it continues to remake itself in new forms. The end of the 1980s marks a dramatic shift toward a new encoding of racism which centers around rewriting the criminal codes to increase lengths of sentences, multiply criminal charges, and expand incarceration of minorities exponentially. The 1989 case of these five young men takes on an iconic role in shaping the demonization of young black men as "superpredators" who must be locked away from the rest of society.
Opening scenes include the songs "I Got It Made," by Special Ed, and "Microphone Fiend," by Erik B. and Rakim. Both celebrate the giftedness and freedom of young men expressing their power and striving for success in the world. A kind of defiant attitude is built into the tone of these pieces, and it gains intensity when the young men join the large crowd that goes into the park on the night that the violent rape occurred. "Fight the Power," by Rage Against the Machine, redirects the gifts and freedom of black youth toward continuing the struggle for structural change. The point of rhyming should be to strengthen a sharp mind and embolden a brave heart. Intellectual and emotional growth feed into analytical capacity to understand social structures and systems and remake them for justice, not merely letting the powerful recreate their domination systems while young people enjoy life without cares. This tone of defiance is interrupted by the scenes of criminal violence that lead to massive police action in rounding up anyone "fitting the description," including the young men who were initially charged and browbeaten to be witnesses against one another for crimes none of them saw, much less participated in.
The overwhelming power of the domination system becomes apparent when its technologies of repression get applied to the young men who have not skills or understanding to defend themselves against police rush to judgment, imagery of monstrous black youth, forced confessions, prosecutorial misconduct, and fearmongering public media. The defiance of the song remains relevant, but the persistent power of oppression is no small opponent to defeat.
"Love and Hate," by Michael Kiwanuka plays in the second episode as the trial is beginning. It begins playing over interviews with community leaders who are challenging law enforcement, the court system, and the media for failing to listen to the truth, failing to investigate and uncover the flaws in the case, and failing to see the young men as human beings. It continues and builds as the young men, their families, and their lawyers make their way into the courtroom.* * * * *
The song's lyrics are not uniformly defiant. They also contain cries for help: "I need something; give me something wonderful." At moments they express doubt and anticipate setbacks: "Now I feel some days of trouble." The defiance of this message recognizes that it is not a simple fight. It is a long fight, and there will still be casualties along the way. Yet there is no concession, no giving in. There is resolve to continue the struggle and achieve without surrender.
How much more are we supposed to tolerate?
Can't you see there's more to me than my mistakes?
Sometimes I get this feeling makes me hesitate...I believe
She won't take me somewhere I'm not supposed to be.
You can't steal the things that god has given me!
No more pain and no more shame and misery--You can't take me down!
You can't break me down!
You can't take me down!
The lyrics of "U Don't Know," by Jay-Z, describe the conflicting narratives of black youth caught up in gangs, drug trade, and crime, versus the creative capacity of those young people to make another kind of life through intelligence, art, business, and hard work. The defiant narrative acknowledges that at times the less desirable path of high risk and potential showdowns with police may seem like the only option a young black person may have. Whatever elements of character that went into the ability to succeed in music and entrepreneurial life also contributed to survival and advancement outside the law. Jay-Z celebrates his emergence as a powerful economic force having done the work necessary to go above and beyond all expectations. In contrast, this song plays near the end of the third episode, over the visual depiction of Ray's turning to selling drugs as his only solution to being out on the streets without opportunities for more legitimate employment.* * * * *
"Who We Be" by DMX again reflects this contrast of life possibilities, emphasizing the inability of the normative gaze to look upon the lives of young black men with any clear sense of their humanity. Describing the harsh conditions, the stereotypes, the compromised choices that affect poor urban young people, the lyrics intermix the human struggles, the aspirations, and the possibilities of faith. With detailed references to the experience of arrest, the courts, remote imprisonment, solitary confinement, and mental fragility, this song plays over the story of Korey as he strives to keep himself together, hundreds of miles away from his family, targeted by other inmates so that his only refuge is in solitary confinement. Having been taken under wing by a sympathetic prison guard, he begins to hope for something better, but faces a parole board intent on forcing another false confession out of him in order to consider releasing him from jail. Korey continues to languish in prison, holding himself together with visions of his family and friends, of his past experiences and choices, thought of as someone other than who he really is both inside and outside the prison.
After the movie, after "Moon River" and the images of the actual five men, the credits begin as still shots from scenes from the four-part movie flash in the background. "Picture Me Rollin'," by Nipsey Hussle plays with its promise to "make it home." Acknowledging the ever-present threat of racial profiling, false accusation, unwarranted arrest, and further consequences of a broken criminal justice system, the song still urges the listener to believe that rather than stopped, beaten, and arrested, the protagonist is still in the car and rolling forward to get home. It may still seem that life is offering odds like "a dice game," but the singer's hope in God's care and drive to press forward, betting against those odds.
In all these songs, the defiance to stand up against an unjust world appears, at the same time as they recognize the struggle will be long and hard. Just as we viewers of this film and listeners to the music must recognize, the path to overcome white supremacy continues as an uphill battle. Frustration is rampant, and patience wears thin. Many will not tolerate such a wait. Others remain in denial that there is even a battle to fight. And those in the midst of the struggle must with the late Nipsey, be
Tryna to stay focused, kinda like Moses,
Like somebody chose us. This weight on my shoulders--
I feel these emotions, but still I keep going.
