A BLACK REVIVAL AND PLAYFUL WORLD -TRAVEL

by Lucy White

    I am a spiritually motivated woman. A white, middle-aged woman, with a middle-class point of view. As a woman I am concerned about racism, particularly as it applies to other women, and the necessity of changing the perception of the racist. This essay concerns itself with the journey of my personal experience across black/white cultural boundries; how that journey relates to (1) "world"-travel as defined by Maria Lugones' essay, "Playfulness, 'World'-Traveling, and Loving Perception" and (2) being "white" as a part of humanity, expressed by Marilyn Frye in the chapter "On Being White: Thinking Toward a Feminist Understanding of Race and Race Supremacy" in The Politics of Reality.
    It has not been the "feminist" point of view that has guided the direction of my life, but rather a more spiritual calling or motivation. Having said that, however, I must admit that feminism and spirituality are closely related, since they share the common ideal of equality, and I anticipate a deeper involvement in "feminism" as a part of living my spiritual beliefs.
    When I say that I am a "spiritually motivated" woman, I mean that the spiritual aspect of my life demands pursuit of "oneness", or wholeness within myself; a sense of unity with other human beings, and all creatures of this universe. To accomplish this goal, I recognize that love is the major part of unity. The word "prove" in this context presumes knowledge of the person who is loved, and a degree of vulnerability of the lover. A person must be familiar with another person, i.e., be aware of another's ideas, beliefs, and feelings before love can exist. The more farniliar one is with the "other," the greater the knowledge of the "other" will be. Since knowledge increases the                    capacities to love, the greater the knowledge, the greater the love. It is important to recognize that when one cannot risk exposure, knowledge is inhibited; consequently, love is impeded. The dynamics of this kind of love enables us to reach out to each other in the giving of ourselves and receiving the gift of other beings in return. This love is fully exercised, by definition of its own nature, when it is increased and expanded, permeating all possibilities.
    But, what happens to love (and to the person who loves) if barriers are confronted, restricting love to a particular race, culture or social class? Can I experience the fullness of love if my experience is limited to the white, middle-class? Lugones brings this point out when she says: "White/Anglo women are independent of me, I am independent from them . . . and none of us loves each other in the independence. I am incomplete and unreal without other women, I am profoundly dependent on others without having to be their subordinate, their slave, their servant" (Lugones 280). When Lugones says she is dependent on others, I understand her to say that she can love herself only to the extent that she knows her own person through others. Knowing herself fullly depends on seeing herself though another person's eyes -- an other's vision which brings a new sense of self-awareness. Along with new knowledge and increased self-esteem, the ability to love is broadened. As we extend ourselves, we take the necessary risk of being more vulnerable.
    To fully explain my concept of love and dependence as it involves other women, I will share an experience. A few years ago, our Anglo/white church hosted a joint service with a black/American Women's chior. We were genuinely impressed with their choir, so much so, that when they extended an invitation to our choir to sing with them, we responded enthusiastically. In order to teach us their music in advance, they came to our church for several rehearsals before the final performance with them at their church. A few of our members were reluctant, but everyone who participated, (10 from both groups) was delighted with the success of the event. Many of the women suggested we make it an annual event.
    I was intrigued with this new experience, since I had never had the opportunity to sing in the tradition of a black gospel choir. I am well-versed in the choral works of Bach, Handel, Beethoven and typical Anglo/church music of the upper/middle classes; it never occurred to me to sing gospel music, with the exception of the token songs one sings in choral groups. I enjoyed this music so much that when we were invited to participate in a multi-congregation Revival spanning four days, I was the first in line for rehearsal. To my surprise, none of my white friends, who had sung with the black choir, were interested. If I wanted to sing the music, I was on my own, and I would probably be the only "white" person in the choir, perhaps even, in the church. This was a turning point which required some thought and careful consideration. In retrospect, I can relate to Marilyn Frye, who makes a valid point when she states: "It is an important breakthrough for a member of a dominant group to come to know s/he is a member of a group, to know that what s/he is is only a part of humanity. It was breathtaking to discover that in the culture I was born and raised in, the word 'woman' means white woman. This sudden expansion of the scope of one's perception can produce a cold rush of awareness of the arbitraliness of the definitions, the brittleness of these boundries. Escape becomes thinkable" (Frye 126-127). Once it is thinkable,the next question is "Am I ready?" In my case, I suppose, it was a "now or never" situation.
    Upon making the decision to participate in the celebration of a black Revival, I soon discovered the meaning of Lugones' definition "world-travel." Little did I realize that the music was to be the instrument by which I would enter into an experience of black culture. Lugones suggests that when we travel to a world of culture other than our own, (in my case, from the white/Anglo culture to black/American culture) it should be a "willful exercise animated by an attitude that is described as playful". . .  "The attitude that carries us through the activity, a playful affitude, turns the activity into play" (288). The uninhibited style of gospel music encouraged "playfullness", changing my attitude and the activity turned into play. As Lugones aptly states, it allowed "in part, an openness to being a fool, which is a combination of not worrying about competence, not being self-important, not taking norms as sacred and fading ambiguity and double edges as a source of wisdom and delight" (288). This playful attitude has rarely been encountered in my experience of the "Anglo/white" world.
    For me, to sing with black people is to express feelings shared with them. . . common feelings to all those who are or have been oppressed. In song, oppression becomes everyone's burden; a burden to be overcome by all. The song of humility and joy overcomes arrogance. The energy of a song is an expression of my soul. The "whiteness" of my skin is no longer relevant and the attitude of "Whiteness" that I may carry with me, is blatandy out of place. It is obvious that privilege and its power must be set aside as restrictions and controls that do not encourage the theme of unity. In order to fully participate in this event, I had to risk uncertainty, incompetence and foolishness, to experience the playfulness of the music.
    Marilyn Frye indicates that the first rule of procedure when crossing cultural lines is to educate oneself. She warns against falling into the trap of distancing yourself from the subject being studied, but suggests that you study it while you examine your own ignorance. In my estimation, this procedure is well advised when learning black gospel music. When learning new music in my "white" world, I have always learned by reading music, or at least by learning "words" from a sheet printed sheet of paper. There was something tangible to use as support to begin the learning process. To my surprise, the first lesson of learning black gospel music was: there is no written music -- it is taught by ear and learned by ear. One learns it "by heart" as if it was being passed on from generation to generation. One's entire being, physical and spiritual, is involved with producing this music. You sing from "the gut" with physical gestures such as clapping, foot stomping, pointing, and swaying, or any combination thereof, to a multitude of changing rhythms. Your mouth opens wider than ever before, producing a sound you have never made before.
    The purpose of Revival is to bring a community together by lifting each other up, in celebration. The music provides a stimulus to an expression: that expression can be one of despair or hope, pain or joy, freedom or slavery, love or hate. Whatever the expression, when I sang the music, I began to identify with the other women singing with me, I began to see and feel what we have in common when we sing. The experiences that prompt their feelings are different from mine, but the "feelings" are the same. Through the music, I get a better picture of the black person's point of view. I can better understand. But I can only do this if I travel to the "world" in which the Revival is held and only if I actively participate in it. If the black choir put on a revival at my church (aside from the fact that no one would come), I would be a spectator with all the other "whites" and the "blacks" would become Frye's version of an "object of study." In other words, they are doing "world"-traveling; I am not.
    Privilege does not require "world"-travel of me; "failure to love" does. Lugones' concern is "failure of love in the failure to identify with other women, the failure to see oneself in other women who are quite different from oneself" (279). She cites the reason for this failure as an unwillingness to be empathetic.

      I am particularly interested here in those many cases in which white/Anglo women do one or more of the following to women of color:  they ignore us, ostracize us, render us invisible, stereotype us, leave us completely alone, interpret us as crazy. All of this while we are in their midst. The more independent I am, the more independent I am     left to be. Their world and their integrity do not require me at all.  There is no sense of self-loss in them for my own lack of solidity. But they rob me of my solidity through indifference, an indifference they can afford and that seems sometimes studied. (279)

    It is painfully obvious to me that Lugones' claims about Anglo/white women are true. Having experienced the Revival and the indifference of my peers in just this isolated example, verifies this truth. White women prefer to leave women of color to themselves. It is too risky to get involved with them. What are the risks? They are the same risks I took by singing in the Revival: insecurity of having to change my point of view, admitting prejudice, acknowledging not only arrogance, but errors in perception and judgment. It also involves vulnerability to criticism from blacks who might misconceive my motive and intentions and label me a "white privileged hypocrite."
    The Revival made me look at the ways in which I live up to the claims against Anglo/white women. This kind of self-criticism is the helthiest way I know of loving myself. It is necessary if I am to be successful in loving women of color and of other cultures. To quote Frye "a white person must never claim not to be a racist, but only to be anti-racist. The reasoning is that racism is so systematic and white privilege so impossible to escape, that one is, simply, trapped. . . .  I can set myself against Whiteness: I can give myself the injunction to stop being White" (126-127). I heartily agree!




Frye, Marilyn. The Politics of Reality. Freedom, California: Crossing Press,
    1983.
Lugones, Maria. "Playfulness, 'World'-Traveling, and Loving Perception".
    Hvpatia. vol. 2, issue 2. (1987).