Pre-Concert Q & A

Dèbora Oliveira and the Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network

Calling In

Hope

Margarita Rodriguez and Peter Colino, soloists

If we want hope to survive in this world today,
then every day we’ve got to pray on.

If we want hope to survive in this world today,
then every day we’ve got to walk on.

If we want hope to survive in this world today,
then every day we’ve got to work on.

If we want hope to survive in this world today,
then every day we’ve got to move on.

If we want hope to survive in this world today,
then every day we’ve got to sing on.

Land Acknowledgement

Urban Native Education Alliance

Breaths

Listen more often to things than to beings.
’Tis the ancestors’ breath when the fire’s voice is heard.
’Tis the ancestors’ breath in the voice of the waters.

Those who have died, have never, never left.
The dead are not under the earth
They are in the rustling trees, they are in the groaning woods
They are in the crying grass. They are in the moaning rocks.

Those who have died have never, never left.
The dead have a pact with the living.
They are in the woman’s breast, they are in the wailing child.
They are with us in the home. They are with us in the crowd.

Stories of our Grandmothers

Grandmother Cedar

tsi sq́ʷalʔalq́ʷal Lora Pennington, Upper Skagit Elder and Storyteller

Lineage

My grandmothers were strong.
They followed plows and bent to toil.
They moved through fields sowing seed.

My grandmothers were strong.
They touched the earth and grain grew.
My grandmothers were strong.
They were full of sturdiness and singing.

My grandmothers are full of mem’ries.
Smelling of soap and onions, and wet clay,
with veins rolling roughly over quick hands
they have many clean words to say.

My grandmothers were strong.
Why am I not as they?

Learning from our Kindreds

Stories of Resilience

Roma Rasooli, Niuvis Ferro, Martha Cohen, Nikki Nichols

Sure on this Shining Night

Cee Adamson, soloist

Sure on this shining night
Of starmade shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.

The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.

Sure on this shining night
I weep for wonder
Wandering far alone
Of shadows on the stars.

Wade in the Water

Cee Adamson, soloist

God’s gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water, children.

See that host all dressed in white.
The leader looks like an Isralite.

See that band all dressed in red.
Well it looked like the band that Moses led.

When Thunder Comes

Dekoboko Taiko

The poor and dispossessed take up the drums
for civil rights—freedoms to think and speak,
petition, pray, and vote. When thunder comes,
the civil righteous are finished being meek.

Why Sylvia Méndez bet against the odds,
why Helen Zia railed against tin gods,
how Harvey Milk turned hatred on its head,
how Freedom Summer’s soldiers faced the dread

are tales of thunder that I hope to tell
from my thin bag of verse for you to hear
in miniature, like ringing a small bell,
and know a million bells can drown out fear.

For history was mute witness when such crimes
discolored and discredited our times.
Take up the drums and speak. When thunder comes,
the civil righteous are finished being meek.

INTERMISSION

Justice Choir Community Sing

I Lift My Voice

When I lift my voice, let it be in song,
a defiant note in the face of wrong.
I won’t stand alone, we’ll stand side by side
’cause we know that love is always justified.
When they try to divide us, it will only unite us.
I lift my voice.

¡No nos moverán! (We Shall Not Be Moved)

¡No, no, no nos moverán!
We shall not, we shall not be moved!

Como un árbol firme junto al rio,
Just like a tree that’s planted by the water,

¡no, no, no nos moverán!
we shall not be moved!

Unidos en la lucha,
United in the fight,

¡no, no, no nos moverán!
we shall not be moved!

Singing to Remember

Courage to Be Who We Are

We are here in the mem’ry of those who have fallen.
We are here for the courage to be who we are.

We are standing . . .

We are singing . . .

There Was a Time

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparell’d in celestial light,
The glory of a dream.

The rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the rose;
The moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare;
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where’er I go,
That there hath pass’d away a glory from the earth.

Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind.

Becoming a Community of Courage

Stories of Resilience

Débora Oliveira from the Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network

Bridge Over Troubled Water

I’ll be your bridge o’er troubled water,
when you’re down, I will carry you
like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.

When you’re weary, feeling small,
when tears are in your eyes,
I will dry them all; I’m on your side.
Oh, when times get rough
and friends just can’t be found,
like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.

When you’re down and out,
when you’re on the street,
When evening falls so hard,
I will comfort you; I’ll take your part.
Oh, when darkness comes
and pain is all around
like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.

. . .
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind.

If I Had a Hammer

If I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning;
I’d hammer in the evening, all over this land.
I’d hammer out danger; I’d hammer out warning;
I’d hammer out the love between my brothers and sisters,
all over this land.

If I had a bell, I’d ring it in the morning,
I’d ring it in the evening, all over this land.
I’d ring out danger; I’d ring out warning,
I’d ring out the love between my brothers and sisters,
all over this land.

If I had a song to sing, I’d sing it in the morning,
I’d sing it in the evening, all over this land.
I’d sing out danger; I’d sing out warning,
I’d sing out love between my brothers and sisters,
all over this land.

Well, I’ve got a hammer and I’ve got a bell,
and I’ve got a song to sing all over this land.
It’s the hammer of justice; it’s the bell of freedom;
it’s a song about love between my brothers and sisters,
all over this land.

Hold On

Keep your hand on the plow, hold on!

Nora, Nora let me come in
doors all fasten and the windows pinned.
Keep your hand on the plow, hold on!

Nora said, “you lost your track;
can’t plow straight and keep a lookin’ back.”
Keep your hand on the plow, hold on!

When my way gets dark as night,
I know love will be my light.
Keep your hand on the plow, hold on!

Freedom’s name is mighty sweet.
Soon one day we’re gonna meet.
Keep your hand on the plow, hold on!