Black writer, filmmaker, screenwriter, and teacher, Toni Cade Bambara taught us that the role of the artist is to make revolutionary change irresistible. In a 1992 interview with Kay Bonetti she said:
As a cultural worker who belongs to an oppressed people my job is to make revolution irresistible.
About a hundred years before that, white immigrant anarchist Emma Goldman declared that she didn’t want to be part of any revolution that forbade her from dancing.
And just a year ago, Latinx artist Favianna Rodriguez wrote:
The role of the artist has never been more important. Artists are the beacons who help us see the light in times of devastation. Artists expose hard truths, inspire new ideas and make the future we want feel possible, tangible, and inevitable. Artists activate the imagination, they soothe, comfort, and move to action.
I’ve written here before that beauty is not a luxury. What gets me through most days is knowing that writing and moving my body is as necessary to my well being as eating and sleeping. And I know that movements for social justice are exponentially more powerful when the arts, beauty, and joy of those who are struggling for liberation are at the center.
A newer realization for me is that movements, magic, and the arts can be deeply intertwined. The arts are a kind of magic, and making revolution irresistible is magic.
Recently, Black writer and conjurer Danielle Strugg Cole introduced me to the idea that music is magic. Music can shift energy; can create connections between people, beings, and ancestors; can transport us. (The more I lean about magic, the more I realize that I’ve been practicing it without realizing it for a long time—but that’s another post.)
Since then, whenever I’ve felt blue, angry, or just off, I’ve consciously evoked the magic of music. I put on music to help me go deeper into my feelings and work them out. I play music as I plant seeds for my garden. I play a reverent song as I sweep the floors in a cleansing ritual. I blast music and dance it out. I move with music to touch into a deeper part of my knowing.
I find it deeply joyful, pleasurable, and transformative to engage with music with such consciousness and intention.
The magic of music also works in tangible ways, shaping us and shaping the world around us. In the podcast Louder Than A Riot one of today’s leading abolition organizers, Mariame Kabe, describes how listening to Public Enemy in the 1980s lifted the ceiling off of her imagination—leading her to imagine, and then work toward, a world without prisons. (The whole episode is amazing, especially the conversation at the end between Kabe and rapper Noname.)
And so, for this short new-moon missive, I offer you some music magic:
A beautiful and moving protest song, "No More," written by my very dear friend, cory. Learn it and sing it at the next rally or march you attend!
A playlist I’ve put together just for you. It’s filled with songs I’ve turned to in the last six months or so for their magical powers. These songs move me, make me move, evoke the magic of revolution, loving, and the living—which, for me, are inseparable.
Enjoy!
Prompting
For your revolutionary writing prompts this API History month and #AbolitionMay, head on over to poet Franny Choi’s Instagram feed. Every Friday, she is posting a writing prompt that helps us imagine what a “liberated Asian America sound, smell, and feel like.”
Community/Announcements
Thank you to everyone who attended a Last Days launch event in April! I loved seeing your names and comments in the chat! I have two more virtual events coming up next week! Learn more and get your tickets here, or click on the images below.
Hope to see some of you in zoom-land. And I’ll be back in your inbox with the full moon on May 26!