Songs for an outsider

Have you ever been an outsider? Most of us have been at times in our lives.  Perhaps we moved to a new town, went to a new school or were displaced by life in some way. Have you ever been the only ________ (fill in the black) white person in a group, the youngest, oldest, only child of divorced parents,  relocated to a middle class area from a blue collar status, etc, etc?  We have all been there. Finding a place to belong is a universal quest and need. Music can give us that belonging. It's where social class, racial background, marital status, gender issues and all other boundaries fall away.

Last night I had the opportunity to make an outsider feel she belonged. She is the only black woman living in a nursing home where I play each Wednesday evening.  Last night as I strolled the hallways where I sing for the residents in troubadour style, I saw Ms.  Jackson seated in her wheelchair outside her room. Her head was down and when I tried to say hello, she did not respond. Since I had not met her before, I was not sure how much she heard or understood. I decided to keep trying to make a friend.

I sang the old Spiritual, "Down by the Riverside" and afterwards I told her I remembered learning that as a child in Chicago.  This sparked a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. She was paying attention now. This told her I'm not from here either. I then went on to sing to her an old Motown song, "My Girl." She didn't appear to know the song and so I explained it was popular in the 60s by Smokey Robinson. After that, I sang "Stand By Me." Again she didn't seem to know it but the nurses (also black) did and one of them came over and sang along with me.  She started to dance a bit and when one of the dishwashers walked by, she grabbed his hand and sang to him, "Stand by me, oh stand by me.." By this time Ms. Smith was smiling. I was chattering on as if we were old friends and at one point I reached up my hand as if to ask her to slap me five. I was surprised when she raised her hand and slapped me five! As she did so, I saw that her nails were long and painted red. I showed her my nails --those of a guitarist --one hand with no nails and the other with long nails. She smiled at this and I could see I made a connection. She went from not responding and being completely withdrawn to smiling and feeling a connection. The music gave me a way to do that.

Sometimes I get so involved in learning new music that I can shut myself away for days at a time and not actively seek out social connections. I forget that playing music is to make connections! Yesterday was a great reminder of that.  Each new song I learn could be a ticket to someone's secret world that would open a door between us. I look forward to seeing Ms. Smith next week.