By Rebecca Stern for The Daily Yonder.
Broadcast version by Nadia Ramlagan for West Virginia News Service for the Public News Service/Daily Yonder Collaboration
In the halls of Southeast Kentucky Community & Technical College during the day, and on the grounds of Cowan Community Center at night, the Cowan Creek Mountain Music School [CCMMS], referred to by staff and participants as "Cowan," did more than just celebrate Appalachian music.
After two years of Covid-19 prevented a safe in-person learning experience, Cowan returned, this time with a renewed commitment to diversity and inclusion. The overall structure of the program has not changed. It features morning classes, with students ranging from kids to older adults, that are taught in a call and response style, rather than with written music. Lyrics are not googled. For tunes like "Groundhog," the beginner class created their own lyrics or got them from another staff member. Every afternoon, there are masters concerts, jam sessions, and workshops like beginning flat foot dancing and Old Regular Baptist line singing. At night, there are outdoor faculty concerts and square dances.
A More Diverse, and Inclusive, Appalachian Music School
What made this year's iteration of the music school unique were the extra steps administration took to make the old time Appalachian music camp and community more inclusive of people not traditionally represented or talked about in Appalachian music.
Efforts included a workshop on breaking the silence around LGBTQ+ people in traditional Appalachian music; a faculty member - an immigrant to Kentucky from Ecuador - who taught Andean music and instrument-making; and a public recognition of all the tunes Cowan teaches from the Appalachian repertoire that have links to the African-American community. There were classes on the African origins of the banjo, and the school welcomed a primarily-female Latin Alternative group, LADAMA, whose ensemble included four women from four different countries.
"I absolutely think [Cowan] is where we get to build the Appalachia we want for everybody," said Larah Helayne, a 20-year-old queer, Appalachian musician and teacher's assistant for the beginner banjo class at CCMMS.
During a workshop on the lived experiences of some of the LGBTQ+ staff at Cowan, Helayne and two other panelists spoke and led the community in songs about being queer in Appalachia and queerness in Appalachian music. Panelists, including Helayne and Sue Massek, a member of Reel World String Band, which is sometimes called "Kentucky's feminist hillbilly band," opened-up conversation about feeling a need to hide queerness when performing, experiencing microaggressions, and the lack of public recognition for queer people in Appalachian music.
"You have to understand that marginalized people, Black people, queer people, Latinx people, and other people of color have always been in Appalachia," said Helayne. "We have always been here and we always will be, and we're not going anywhere."
The Importance of Community
Community is integral to Appalachian music. Several times throughout the camp, participants were reminded that this music was meant to be played together, in jams with other instruments, not solo. Helayne spoke about the joy of finding themselves at an all-queer jam at the Parkway Inn (a traditional night jam spot, given that the Parkway is where most participants and staff stay during the week).
LADAMA members also recognized the importance of community in Appalachian music, sharing translations for words like "jam" and "square dance" in their own languages.
Maria Fernanda Gonzalez, a member of LADAMA from Venezuela, explained that "for us, it's important to come here to find the connections and the bridge that we can build with music that's made around community."
Fernanda Gonzalez also addressed the lack of gender diversity in the music industry, an issue that exists across borders. "As a woman ensemble that creates music, as a collective...we are writing original music and that's still rare... It's important to talk about the diversity of the music industry," she said.
"No matter what country we're from, we're still facing challenges as women," added Daniela Serna, a member of LADAMA who is from Colombia.
Change Is a Process
Staff emphasized that there are other important steps Cowan must take for diversity, equity, and inclusion. Helayne named some things they would like to see, like more faculty of color and an endowed scholarship for students of color, as well as pronouns on name tags to avoid misgendering.
Executive director Carla Gover said that making these adjustments, and giving audiences and program participants a fuller picture of Appalachian music, is very important to Cowan. But these changes are not seamless and don't always come quickly in a community that puts so much emphasis on tradition.
"There were concerns expressed about how we should be a music school and not explore political issues, fears of attack from right wing groups that have made trouble for some other organizations in Eastern Kentucky of late, and a worry that some parents might not let their youth attend camp if we openly speak about LGBTQ+ issues," said Gover.
Ultimately, the CCMMS administration decided that because Appalachian music has always been political - from songs about coal mining unions, to tunes about environmental awareness by artists like Jean Ritchie - Cowan would continue to strive for more diversity, inclusivity, and cultural-historical context.
Gover added that this year's focus on diversity and inclusion doesn't supplant the school's original mission to center the living traditions of Kentucky artists and educators. Cowan is still committed to honoring this aim, especially because there is a long history of non-Appalachians teaching, explaining, and performing Appalachian music. At times this has led to misinformation, harmful stereotypes, and even cultural appropriation for financial gain, what Gover jokingly calls faking "holler cred."
"We want to make sure that 'Y'all are welcome' means 'All are welcome,' and that folks of all stripes and persuasions can feel that. Which sometimes means creating a space for tender or difficult conversations - bookended by songs, of course!" said Gover.
After all, at the end of the day, Cowan Creek Mountain Music School is really about the music.
Rebecca Stern wrote this article for The Daily Yonder.
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By Kate Mothes for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Kathleen Shannon for Greater Dakota News Service reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
On the five-acre campus of the Cheyenne River Youth Project (CRYP), a unique, community-wide graffiti art event—the first and only in Indian Country—aims for more than just the walls. Located in Eagle Butte, South Dakota, on the Cheyenne River Reservation (one of nine Native Nations in the state), the organization has focused on providing youth with opportunities to get creative, develop healthy habits, work together, and learn new skills since its inception in 1988.
Executive Director Julie Garreau, who has been with CRYP since the beginning, is no stranger to balancing numerous aspects of the program. On the day Garreau spoke to me from her office, she and the CRYP team were preparing to welcome artists from around the nation—and this year, New Zealand—to kick off the tenth annual RedCan Graffiti Jam.
Far more than just an art showcase, RedCan promotes collaboration and community initiatives through pairing artists with teen interns of a CRYP Lakota Art Fellow. “CRYP created the Lakota Art Fellowship in 2019 so it could provide opportunities for teens on the Cheyenne River Sioux Reservation who have an interest in pursuing careers in the arts, and who have completed multiple internships through the nonprofit youth project’s dedicated art institute,” says communications director Heather Steinberger.
An Evolving Event
Garreau remembers RedCan as “a risky kind of project to initiate, but I feel like with CRYP we really understand kids, and you’ve got to take some risks sometimes to keep them interested and motivated and you have to do things very differently.”
Starting with the evening they arrive, the artists enjoy a traditional Lakota meal of buffalo soup, wojapi (a berry sauce), and fry bread. The four-day event, which includes performances, skateboard painting, music, and community meals, serves to not only engage but keep kids’ attention while celebrating Lakota identity and culture.
This year, buildings in the mural lineup included the animal shelter, veterans building, radio station, and food pantry. Garreau takes time to discuss with the artists what the buildings are used for and their history within the community. Murals are also installed in the Waniyetu Wowapi Art Park, an open-air space where a series of wooden panels, shipping containers, and walls host constantly revolving graffiti compositions.
Returning artists include, among many others: East, an artist of Cherokee descent from Denver; CYFI, a Yaqui and Azteca artist from Minneapolis; and Natasha Martinez, a.k.a. Rezmo, a Diné and Mexicá artist currently living in the Salt River Pima-Maricopa Indian Community in Arizona. New to the event this year are Māori artists Phat1 and Lady Diva, from Aotearoa (New Zealand); Midwestern artist Brady Scott; and Kansas-born Ponca artist Amp.
Celebrating Connections
Rezmo had just arrived in Eagle Butte when in an email she wrote, “What I look forward to the most this year is painting in the community and making connections with the community members that come out and talk to us throughout the week.” At home in Arizona, she works in youth services and teaches art to kids ranging from pre-K age to teens, so partnering up with interns and young artists at RedCan sparks her energy. “It makes me happy to teach them and share what I know,” she says.
Garreau relates a story she heard from artist Hoka Skenandore, a Lakota artist who painted a mural spelling “Lakota” in both the Lakota language and in sign language, depicting each letter in hands of varying skin tones. “He said, this little boy came up to him and was watching him for a while,” Garreau shares. “Then the little boy went up to the mural and put his hand on the wall. And he said, ‘Huh, just like me.’ That’s the other part of this, right? Seeing yourself in these spaces and knowing that you are part of this, you know that this is for you—for us.”
Kate Mothes wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
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By Randiah Camille Green for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Chrystal Blair for Michigan News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
A waft of what smells like fresh cut grass and burnt oil hangs in the air of Detroit's East Canfield neighborhood. The eerie smell comes from the nearby Stellantis Mack Assembly Plant, which has received repeated air quality violations for paint and solvent odors over the last several years. In March, Stellantis agreed to pay a $84,420 fine from the Michigan Department of Environment, Great Lakes, and Energy (EGLE) for air quality violations for one of its plants in the same neighborhood. This neighborhood has one of the highest rates of asthma hospitalization of children under 18.
Despite its foreboding presence, residents like sisters Kim and Rhonda Theus are finding intentional ways to erect beauty. They run the nonprofit Canfield Consortium, which repurposes vacant lots for things like community gardens and public art. They're even renovating a former corner store into a coffee shop and art gallery, and carving out a future bike path.
Honoring Place and People
Their latest project is the Detroit Remediation Forest, a forest bathing installation located in the East Canfield Art Park that they hope will help mitigate air pollution from the Stellantis complex. The forest is anchored by a gold sculpture called "New Forest, Ancient Thrones" by New York-based artist and activist Jordan Weber. The piece has an air quality monitor that tells residents the particulate matter levels in the air.
It's shaped like two crowns, as an ode to Queen Idia of Benin (modern-day Nigeria) and Queen Ranavalona III of Madagascar who fought colonization. The crowns also honor Kim and Rhonda as modern-day queens.
"It's a strong symbolic representation of the African diasporic experience and the trauma that's in the land in both Africa and the U.S.," Weber said. "There's the 2008 housing crisis where you see what happened to the legacy of Black homeownership in Detroit, for example. Queen Ranavalona was exiled from Madagascar and forced to live in Europe for the remainder of her life, and that's no different to me than us being displaced in our communities where we have [generations] of families who literally sweat and bled to get that land."
Weber's sculpture was unveiled to the public in May. A second phase of the forest installation will include planting air-purifying conifers like white pine and fir in partnership with the Greening of Detroit, and installing an elevated walkway. It will also host outdoor programming for the Barack Obama Leadership Academy across the street.
"New Forest, Ancient Thrones," is the newest addition to the East Canfield Art Park, which the Theus sisters opened in 2021 on a vacant corner. Kim and Rhonda wanted to leverage the power of art to spark conversations on environmental issues, gentrification, and Black representation.
The first art piece in the park was a bronze sculpture by Detroit sculptor Austen Brantley called "Boy Holds Flower." In that piece, a young Black boy sits cross legged as he gazes in admiration at a flower he's just picked. It's important for the children attending the Barack Obama Leadership Academy to have this image of joyful Black boyhood. The park also includes a "Hood Closed to Gentrifiers" sign by artist Bryce Detroit.
Guided by Purpose and Legacy
Kim and Rhonda remember when the neighborhood was a bustling, Black middle class area - before the Stellantis plant expanded its footprint and displaced their neighbors and before Detroit's foreclosure crisis caused families to lose their homes.
"There was a middle school that we went to, a [recreation] center, playgrounds, and all those things are gone," said Kim "People who are building families won't move to a neighborhood where they don't have those types of amenities, so a lot of the work that we're doing at Canfield Consortium is addressing things like that."
Weber was selected as an artist-in-residence by Sidewalk Detroit, a place-keeping organization championing public art and urban greenspace. Sidewalk Detroit Director and Founder Ryan Myers-Johnson said that during planning meetings, East Canfield residents stressed that any art brought to their neighborhood should address issues they are facing instead of beautification.
"We started to really understand the problem with Stellantis and the air quality issues and how [the plant] is touted as bringing in jobs and not something that is actually destroying health and the fabric of this neighborhood," Myers-Johnson said. "So, we needed somebody rooted in understanding spatial trauma and environmental justice issues."
Reclaiming their neighborhood is Kim and Rhonda's way of preserving the legacy of families like theirs who moved to Detroit to escape the Jim Crow South.
"Our parents were born and raised in Tennessee ... The only jobs they could get there were either domestic work or sharecropping. They wanted to buy a home and build a family, so they left everything they knew in Tennessee to move to Detroit and bought a house in East Canfield Village," Rhonda said. "The majority of people that live here come from the same situation... so these houses have a powerful legacy."
Randiah Camille Green wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
Disclosure: Arts Midwest contributes to our fund for reporting on Arts and Culture, and Native American Issues. If you would like to help support news in the public interest,
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By Kristy Alpert for Arts Midwest.
Broadcast version by Terri Dee for Illinois News Connection reporting for the Arts Midwest-Public News Service Collaboration
On any given Friday night in the Township of O’Fallon, the loudest cheers do not come after a touchdown or a field goal. The real roaring begins the moment the final note of the halftime performance reverberates through the stadium.
In this Illinois suburb, music is the main event; specifically, the town’s beloved high school marching band. Across the town, band fan gear is sold in toddler sizes, lawns proudly proclaim that a “Marching Panther Lives Here,” and weekly marching practices often have cheering sections.
“I believe the band is the identity of the town,” explains Beth Mueller, a former O’Fallon band member (1988-1992) and current band parent. “It goes beyond just an activity that kids participate in; our band really plays an active role in the community and our community has a lot of pride and passion for the band program.”
The town’s passion was put to the test during the 2013-2014 school year, when district wide budget cuts threatened to silence the music program. Parents showed up in astounding numbers at town hall meetings saying cutting the music program would be “taking away their foundation.” During a time when band programs were being cut throughout the Midwest, the O’Fallon community refused to let theirs go.
Along with the band director’s fearless advocacy, the community started a nonprofit called Lifelong Music in O’Fallon Schools, which helped explore grants and sought creative ways to save the music.
“The community rallied around, and so did our school district, and we were able to kind of run it [the band program] through the Parks and Rec … until we were able to bounce back the following year with funding,” recalls Melissa Gustafson-Hinds, performing arts department chair and director of bands for the O’Fallon Township High School. “It was a one-year scare that we got through, and I would be really surprised if anything like that happened again.”
Thanks to the organization and the band booster club, the band’s budget has never been stronger, and neither has the community’s support, cheering the band on as they bring back numerous national awards—including the coveted John Philips Sousa Sudler Shield award—and as they participate in some of the country’s most prestigious national events, like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and the Tournament of Roses Parade.
“We’re always looking for ways to highlight our students, because they are so great, but we also try to be humble within our community. … we do try to find ways to showcase their talents and to reward them so the community and the nation know that we have something special,” says Gustafson-Hinds.
They provide opportunities for the musicians to volunteer around town, like offering free community performances and creating leadership groups to support annual events for the town’s veterans and local charities. “I think it’s important for our students to learn the importance of giving back,” she adds.
And in O’Fallon, Illinois, that strength is derived from altruism, both from the many talented young musicians and from the community that supports them.
Kristy Alpert wrote this story for Arts Midwest.
Disclosure: Arts Midwest contributes to our fund for reporting on Arts and Culture, and Native American Issues. If you would like to help support news in the public interest,
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