Celebrate Black History With SFGMC!

National Black History Month helps to promote a more inclusive and understanding society. It is an opportunity to raise awareness and educate others about the struggles, triumphs, and rich culture of the Black community. We’ll do something different this year. Instead of showcasing different singers from the black community, this year the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus' aim is to showcase how learning and understanding Black history impacts our approach to art and activism.

Continue to Celebrate Black History Month with SFGMC

As we continue our celebration of Black History Month, we posed a few questions to leadership and singing members. Specifically, we asked:

1. What does teaching African American history accomplish?

2. What are some of the most important or valuable things we can learn from the study?

3. How does what we learn help us address the issues of social, economic and racial injustice?

4. How does understanding the African American struggle for equality help other groups navigate identity-based challenges?

5. How does learning and understanding African American history help someone be a more effective ally for the Black community?

This week, we are honored to share the responses from our Black History Month curator, Clint Johnson, and our SFGMC Board Chair, Glenn DeSandre.

In fact, the backbone of my approach to my leadership role and to our mission includes practices and principles I learned from my studies. In studying hard won victories, I learned the importance of never giving up on the belief that change is possible. In studying transformative social movements, I learned how strong bonds within a community support and strengthen the movement. And from the stories about the heroes and heroines and the people around them, I learned that everyone can play a role in the effort to effect social change, and that all the roles are important. I also practice two of the philosophies that enabled Black people to survive enslavement that are also important strategies used in successful social movements —  share what you know so that others may benefit from your experience, and always hold the door open for those following in your footsteps.

Perhaps the most profound effect was on my perspective on the impact of personal power. The people we celebrate during Black History Month are deserving of the recognition they receive. Their journeys were long and difficult and their accomplishments important. But they didn’t do it alone. There were countless ordinary people who helped them along the way. People who, when seeing the need, made the decision to do something to help rather than turn away. Their histories may be lost to time, but those supporting efforts are important too. In the struggle to bend the arc of the moral universe, it’s the combined weight of our actions that forces that arc to bend. The amount of weight we’re each willing to add is a personal decision, but each action taken, large or small, seen or unseen, has weight. And we each have the power to choose how much weight we will apply.

Black history is a magnificent story. It’s rich with examples of people who possessed the qualities American culture and people around the world admire — a solid work ethic, a commitment to freedom and democracy, love of family and community, and a willingness to work tirelessly toward a better, more promising future. And it’s replete with stories that inspire with their examples of humanity at its best and bravest. The other side of that history is a cautionary tale that illustrates the capacity of humanity to countenance and perpetuate unconscionable evil. In the face of what we can learn from Black history and the perspective it gives us, I’ve always found it fascinating, and for our country ultimately self-defeating, to routinely ignore or diminish Black history and all the wisdom and insight it offers.  

As a Black person, I live with the constant reverberations of the echoes from Black history in my ears. At times uncomfortably so. At others those reverberations are a source of joy and pride so great they’re impossible to describe. So for me, in many ways, Black history is and always has been present.

Their stories run the gamut of the human experience from struggle and pain to joy, resilience, and victory. It can certainly be challenging and painful to learn about the hardships that my ancestors have inflicted and the ways systemic racism continues to create and perpetuate inequities in our society. Knowledge though should never be feared as it is only through knowledge that we can gain understanding and ever hope to create change.

I grew up in suburban Chicago and despite the proximity to a city with a large proportion of Black residents, I didn’t know any Black people personally until I was in the 3rd grade. I have recollections of only cursory coverage of African American history until my AP American history class in 11th grade. It was there that I was taught that the Civil War was fought largely because of economic differences between the North and the South. If your head is exploding now, mine is too but it didn’t back then because there was only one view offered. Contradictory voices and perspectives were silenced or erased.  Fortunately, my world and world view expanded. The misconceptions about the Civil War were clarified and I can see the larger lesson I was taught — history is not just a series of events that happened years ago but also the scaffolding upon which many of the most painful events of today are built. It is only by learning how the scaffold of problems like systemic racism are created that we can begin to dismantle them. 

As with any social movement that seeks to rectify an inequity, those most affected by it are often the most disenfranchised and their perspective and wisdom often the least likely to be listened to. Allies of the disenfranchised need to use their privilege and platforms to amplify truth and reality, and make change in the spaces they inhabit. In my role as an ally to the Black community, I take my lead from the voices from that community. They have the lived experience and understanding to best direct the course of change. It can be daunting to use one’s privilege in this way. But for me, that fear pales in comparison to the concerns of those who needed change yesterday, not “tomorrow.”  The challenge of doing the work is far less daunting than the work required to survive in environments seemingly designed or determined to exclude you. By learning the historical context that has created the present for African Americans, we allies have solid facts and better rhetoric to combat those who seek to maintain the status quo in service to their own privilege and power.

As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “the march toward progress is never straight’. The African American story is a testament to that truth. In the story of Black people’s struggle for equality there are countless examples of resilience, strength, and ingenuity that has and will continue to inspire all those who work to get society to the “Promised Land”, Dr. King envisioned.  As as queer person, I owe a debt of gratitude to the Black civil rights pioneers and especially the Black trans women who stood at the intersection of Black and queer who created the blueprint for the continued struggle for queer equality. This struggle has created a world where I can live openly and marry the man of my dreams but the fight is not over.  Efforts to restrict schools from teaching students about queer issues, ongoing discrimination and violence against trans and nonbinary folx, and countless other examples of homophobia and transphobia demonstrate the need for continued action.

In any endeavor, I believe you are most effective when you embrace your “why?” I embrace my role and responsibilities as an ally in the struggle for Black equity, justice, inclusion and belonging because I want to help create a world where all of our children “will live in a world where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

Opening Statement from Raymond Gonzales

Art comes in many forms - paintings, theater, poetry, literature and music. If I were to put two things together, hand in hand, it would be art and history. Art helps us engage with the past intellectually and emotionally. It tells us the story of who we are and how society got from where we were to where we are. How can we truly understand who we are if the history we use to tell that story is incomplete? How can art teach us lessons that can help us move society forward if our record of what we’ve done, our history, is inaccurate? 

Understanding history leads to the transformation of art. The added nuance and broader perspective gives this new art the capacity to correct or completely change a prevailing historical narrative. In the case of Black history, a narrative that once looked at the story of Black people in America through rose colored glasses has begun to include the contradictions and truths that cast those stories and the people in them in a very different and more accurate light. The narratives that once focused on pain & suffering, now also speak of the amazing capacity of the enslaved to find joy in the midst of that pain. They highlight the ingenuity and resilience shown in the face of unimaginable hardship. And they speak of the love of life and hope for the future that has sustained the Black community. In this new narrative, the humanity of Black people is finally becoming a part of the story.

An often unacknowledged part of LGBTQ history is the impact of the Black Civil Rights movement on early LGBTQ activists. Those early activists paved the way for many of the rights our community enjoys today using strategies adopted from the Black Civil Rights movement. In our weekly newsletter during Black History Month we’ll present short essays from our Artistic Director, Jake Stensberg, our Board Chair, Glenn DeSandre, our Membership Diversity, Equity and Inclusion Representative, Clint Johnson, and thoughts from a few of our singing members that reflect on the importance and value of learning Black history. They’ll share some of the ways the study of Black history and the lessons it teaches informs how they approach our mission — to lead by creating extraordinary music and experiences that build community, inspire activism, and foster compassion at home and around the world.

There’s an African proverb that says, “Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter.” We invite you to join us in always striving to be counted among the lions that learned to write.

• How can we recognize that undermining affirmative action drives a wedge between students from under-represented communities, rather than expanding access for all students, if we don’t know why the doors to college and universities were closed to so many for so long?

• How does the Chorus ask important questions about the works we perform, the texts we sing, and the composers and authors we celebrate, if we don’t have a shared understanding of the times and circumstances in which the music was created?

During Black History Month, I encourage you to learn broadly across the arc of African Americans’ experience in this country, or to learn deeply about a topic you care about. Just learn.

As someone who moved to the USA woefully naïve about the state of affairs, African American studies were invaluable in: helping me navigate the various systems I was thrust into, making me better equipped to push back on areas of entrenched inequity, and in helping me better understand my new identity as “Black.” Additionally, my studies have given me a greater sense of belonging and connectedness to the Black community in America by allowing me to experience a variety of raw narratives and an “top-down” view of the discourse surrounding American Black-ness. I have been able to see the common experiences and struggles that many African Americans face, regardless of their background or cultural heritage, and have come to embrace them as both my and the greater USA’s struggles. This has helped me feel more connected to the Black community and has given me a greater sense of purpose and urgency in fighting for diversity, equality, and inclusion in my everyday life

But I grew up during the Civil Rights struggle of the 60s , a time and an environment that offered dramatically different perspectives on Black people and their history. The disconnect between the images and news from the south and my personal experience raised many questions for me. I wondered, “What was I missing?”. And my journey of discovery began.

There are a myriad of social, economic and racial injustices which could be laid bare with the addition of African American History courses at all educational levels. When I think about some of the societal issues and cultural challenges we face today, I wonder what America would look like now if we accurately studied the end of the Civil War and the Reconstruction period. How would our response to current issues such as protecting voting rights be different if we acknowledged the connections between the past and the present? What would our future look like?

I don’t have the same lived experience of a Black person, but as a trans man I know what it means to be overlooked, pre-judged, and have your existence and life experience denied. One thing I do know is that when people study history, they can walk away with a clearer and deeper understanding of some of the malign cultural and political forces of the past that are still at work today. And that clarity and understanding can help us modify our thinking so as individuals and as a society we’re better prepared and more informed in our efforts to be effective allies for marginalized communities.

For too long have we known our history books got it wrong and not used our platforms to amplify the voices telling stories we need to hear. Our teachers - who often learned from the same textbooks and treatises they were using to teach us - might have missed key Black composers, lyricists, innovators, events, and even entire genres. We know better, and it is incumbent upon us to do better. As the old proverb goes: the best time to plant a tree was yesterday. The second best time is today.

When we get it right, we are doing so much more than getting on stage and singing songs. We are starting the process of righting wrongs, of clarifying misconceptions, and unlearning misguided ways of thinking we might have been cultivating within ourselves for decades. When we get it right, our Black siblings experience belonging, feel seen, and their voices are heard. When we get it right, we understand that even if our intentions were always good, that good intentions are not enough - the impact of our efforts, actions, and words are what counts.

The external-facing work - the organizational policies, the concert productions, and the public programming - is a critically important step in our persistent dedication to diversity, equity, and inclusion. It is, however, not the first step. First comes the internal-facing work. The truths we confront within ourselves which can require deep self-examination, radical honesty, learning and unlearning, and the discovery of new (to us) source materials which help us do better advocacy and be better members of this community.

The work is rarely easy. The journey is rarely short. The path is rarely paved. But the map has been drawn for a long time by Black community leaders, Black artists and art, and by our Black neighbors and family. The work rests on those in institutions of power to listen, learn, and change.

To explore our previous National Black History Month celebration. Here is our singing member’s contributionS from 2022

Music has always been an important part of African American life and culture. From the music created by the enslaved to the music emerging from the Black community today, the impact of Black musicians and Black music on American music and culture is profound and traceable. The rhythms and use of percussion changed how music was constructed. The evolution and blending of musical styles created new genres. And by so powerfully reflecting Black life and the human condition, Black music has driven social change.

This Black History Month we want to celebrate that history by taking a look at some of the people whose work changed American music or whose presence changed its face. From blues to jazz, country music to rock and roll, classical to popular music, no genre has been left untouched. As musicians, we’re inspired by the creativity of these artists. As singer/activists, we’re inspired by the courage of those who dared to be “the first”.

The people we’ll highlight on this page during Black History Month represent just a small fraction of those who’ve kept the spirit and dynamism of Black music alive. Along with each post that will appear below, we’ll include links and other references so you can delve deeper into the biographies and histories we’ve presented, or perhaps, launch your own exploration of Black music history and musicians.

There are more names and stories then we’ll have time or space to highlight, but we honor and celebrate them all. Their lives and personal stories are captivating. Their impact on the world of music is undeniable. And the stories their music tells and their places in American music history are important parts of the American story.

A distinctly American contribution to the world of music, Black music is American music.

Happy Black History Month!

Click on the images to learn more about the artists!

The SFGMC Black History Month Celebration
is curated by Clint Johnson