A Reclamation of Everyone's Right to Sing Praise: July 25, 2004

My plans have changed slightly, so I am in Montréal for another day, catching the bus this evening to Ottawa. A much-needed chance to pause and reflect over this past week.

One thing that I didn't expect was how much I would be affected emotionally by the music I heard. From groups as small as a cappella quartets to as large as 165-member choruses backed by mini-orchestra, everybody brought something to their stage show, and I was shocked by just how often I was strongly affected, how the songs tapped into long-ago memories and long-forgotten emotions. For example, I was so moved to tears by the performance by the Golden Gate Men's Chorus of San Francisco that I ordered a CD recording of it. Simply putting up a list of song titles, lyrics, and pictures alone would not do the GGMSF's set justice: it was one of those transfixing, transforming, transcendent moments where every hair on your scalp tingles and you   JUST.   ARE.   THERE,   completely in the moment, and you and the world are alive with love and possibilities and hope.

Another performance like that was yesterday afternoon, by the San Francisco Gay Men's Chorus (the world's first gay men's chorus, founded in 1978, and the grandfather of the GLBT choral movement), performing with the Transcendence Gospel Choir, the world's first all-transgender gospel choir (see picture above and/or right; the people in the front row are from the TGC, while the men in red robes are from SFGMC). Their performance was a set of empowering and joyful African-American gospel songs and spirituals: "Despite a tradition of exclusion from religions, SFGMC and TGC create a new space of voice and spirit; a reclamation of everyone's right to sing praise." (quote from their program ad)

Another thing I didn't expect was how I would feel being part of such a large group of queer people (mostly white, fairly affluent, middle-aged gay men like me). I spent some time anxiously comparing myself to the well-dressed, impeccably-coiffed men around me and I felt despair. I wrote in my journal:

Isn't the whole message of this thing that you can be different and not be inferior? That you shouldn't care about how other people care about you? ...I will STOP comparing myself with other people, how they look, what they wear, who they're with. If I keep rating myself by externals rather than internals, I'm just buying into the trap. It's better for me to be true to myself where I am, as I am, rather than squeeze myself into someone else's idea of what's acceptable, what's desirable. ...I don't feel like I belong at this festival because I'm comparing myself to other people and thinking that I am inferior, because I don't "look right" or "act right"—how stupid.