Lord, How Come Me Here?

          Last Saturday I was in Detroit to perform on the annual "Classical Roots" concert, which featured the one and only Kathleen Battle and celebrates the achievements and contributions of black musicians to the classical music world. The money raised at this concert each year funds a number of outreach programs, including the Fellowship I'm finishing this spring. The show was very well attended, and the music really touched my soul in a way that Brahms, Beethoven, or even (my favorite) Shostakovich couldn't have done. Going back and remembering our history is integral to our progression as people, and doing so musically is a true testament of the black struggle and subsequent contribution to American music. 
          I love doing concerts like these because I always learn a spiritual that I've never been exposed to before. A few years ago in Los Angeles, when I played with the Southeast Symphony, we did a similar concert in which I learned the song, "A City Called Heaven". In it, the singer tells of his troubles in this world, and how awful it is to be alive, but keeps his head up because he's heard of a city called heaven that he's going to call home one day. This weekend, Kathleen Battle opened her set up with a spiritual called, "Lord, How Come Me Here?" The idea behind this spiritual is similar to the idea behind "A City Called Heaven", but the words are so much more direct, and even accusatory, of the singer's captors: 

Lord, how come me here?
Lord, how come me here?
Lord, how come me here?
I wish I never was born

There ain't no freedom here, Lord
There ain't no freedom here, Lord
There ain't no freedom here, Lord
I wish I never was born

They treat me so mean here, Lord
They treat me so mean here, Lord
They treat me so mean here, Lord
I wish I never was born

They sold my chillen away, Lord
They sold my chillen away, Lord
They sold my chillen away, Lord
I wish I never was born

Lord, how come me here?
Lord, how come me here?
Lord, how come me here?
I wish I never was born
I wish I never was born
I wish I never was born


          As I played and listened to this spiritual and the rest of the concert, it was clear that Kathleen was putting forward the idea of the going from slaves to freemen through song, ending the concert with the Negro National Anthem. Even she said, "When I come out, I intend to be the embodiment of Harriet Tubman and all those slaves who reached freedom". 
          Since the concert I've been thinking about this spiritual and the question it asks. Why ARE we here? Why do people treat us so mean? Why do we have to feel like there's no freedom sometimes? Since slavery the black experience has been put beside the story of the Jews' exodus from Egypt, and seeing the purpose of that story in the context of the Bible can serve as an answer. I think today we can take those two experiences and even connect them with whatever we're going through in our own personal lives. I've certainly felt trapped in some of my experiences lately, but they were necessary and have obviously attributed to where I am today both musically and mentally. I'm so thankful for the art of the spiritual - the message lasts forever and is certainly one of the great contributions to music by black people. 
          
          Now, we all know that Kathleen has a reputation for being a little troublesome and a bit of a diva, so I've purposefully chosen not to talk about the rehearsal process with her because honestly, she was OFF the chain, but so what? We black people have been trying to free ourselves from the chains off societal norms, discrimination, and white appropriation for 200 years, so if Ms. Battle wants to be off that chain I applaud her and look forward to working with her again. A tedious rehearsal never killed anybody.