July 25

When Joe and I started planning this recital, I jokingly suggested a “black and Jewish” theme, referring to my own identity. A couple months later here we are, presenting works by black and Jewish composers! 

I have always known I am a Jew. It was the religion my brothers and I went to Sunday school for (albeit, a secular humanist version of it where we didn’t have to believe in God, only embrace our traditions and values as a culture). It is the identity of the family I grew up seeing the most--my mom's side. It was an easy culture to fit into at my predominantly white and Jewish schools, K-12, but also college and the classical music world at large.
I have also always known I am black, but at a more removed state compared to Jewish. I joke with people that I am more comfortable in a room of older white Jewish people (a common occurrence at events for donors/subscribers of our orchestra) than one of all black folks. My mom is Ashkenazi Jewish, white, born in the US; my dad came to the US from Ghana at age 19 for college. I have visited Ghana three times with them, each time feeling variably alienated from the culture and being pointed out as an “obruni”--meaning “white/foreign”. It is a beautiful country with an immensely complex and exciting culture--however my mom explained most of Ghanaian culture to me, not my dad. So...it is complicated. 

A few memories stick out as “confirming” my now confident black and Jewish identity: a camp friend demanding I choose white or black because “you can’t be both!”; a classmate saying "this isn't really Jewish" at my bat mitzvah ceremony; my unexpected feeling of loss when sharing Ghanaian traditions and pictures at our high school diversity/exchange program; my dad’s calm and defeated reaction to my despair the first time someone called me the n-word while I was out on a run.

Which brings me to the second half of the program. I easily rejoice in performing Jewish music; hence Bloch’s Prayer. I avoided performing spirituals until now, fearing it seen as appropriation or not feeling “black enough” to perform. Christianity is my dad's family's thing. It wasn't relevant to me as a kid. However, when visiting Ghana, there was always gospel radio on in the car. I loved the music, but the lyrics were that of a foreign religion. Needless to say, my black experience is complex in how I have learned to embrace my Ghanaian and Jewish heritage as I walk the world as a brown woman.

 I am excited and honored to share this program with you today and hope my thoughts and memories spark questions and thoughts of your own.