Category: Uncategorized

Lift Every Voice and Sing


Re-posted from a Feb. 2016 chapel talk at Oregon Episcopal School.


Today we’re going to hear a story…

about the power of a song to be a Power for Good.

The teachers at Stanton Central Grammar School were planning an assembly in honor of Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. Would the principal, James Weldon Johnson, give a speech, the teachers wondered.


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The year was 1900. 35 years after the end of Civil War. 35 years after the adoption of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution ending slavery.

The place was Jacksonville, Florida where memories of slavery were still fresh in the lives of the men and women who lived there. Some of the people who lived in Jacksonville had been slaves themselves and some had been slave owners. Some had fought in the war against the Union soldiers, while others had prayed for justice and freedom for all African and African American people.


Stanton Central Grammar School had been named for Edwin M. Stanton, an abolitionist, someone who fought for the end of slavery, and Secretary of War under President Abraham Lincoln. Some of the children and grandchildren of former slaves attended that school.


At the turn of the century, Jacksonville was a bustling place and was considered to be the most progressive city in the Deep South.


Mr. James Weldon Johnson, the principal at Stanton Central Grammar School, had been born in Jacksonville. He had even attended that same school and his mother had been the first African American public school teacher in Florida there. Not willing to stop his education after he graduated from Stanton in the 8th grade, James traveled to Atlanta, Georgia where he attended high school and then college.


After graduating from college, James returned to Jacksonville and became a teacher at Stanton. A little later, he became the principal.

Like Abraham Lincoln before him, James Weldon Johnson loved justice and decided to become a lawyer. While still working as a teacher, he studied law and became the first African American lawyer in Florida after the Civil War. Like Abraham Lincoln, he believed in listening to people whose opinions were different from his own and trying to find common ground. Like Abraham Lincoln, he believed in hard work and hope. He believed in the power of good to change lives.

Abraham Lincoln had done much to point the country in the right direction, but, as James Weldon Johnson and other millions of African Americans knew, there was much work to be done before America could begin to live into its promise to be a land where all people were created equal and had equal chance to bloom. In 1900 there was still no public high school for African American students. Prejudice fueled Jim Crow laws that kept white and black people separate and not equal.  But still, James Weldon Johnson had hope for a better America and a better future.

Teacher, principal, lawyer, and poet, James Weldon Johnson was a busy man.  Would he have time to make a speech? The teachers wondered. James replied that he’d be happy to—and what’s more, he and his brother had written a song they would like the children to sing. It was called “Lift Every Voice and Sing.” James had written the words originally as a poem. His brother John Rosamond who had studied music at the famous New England Conservatory of Music composed the melody.


Though the brothers admitted later that they essentially forgot about the song after the assembly, others didn’t. It spread to nearby schools and churches throughout the South. And by 1920, LEVAS was adopted as the anthem of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (or NAACP) when James himself was the chief executive officer of the group. Over the past 116 years it has been sung at countless civil rights marches, rallies and in churches and is thought to have inspired Martin Luther King, Jr. when composing his “I Have a Dream” speech. It is included in the Episcopal Church’s blue hymnal and in many other song books in Christian churches.

Let’s take a look at James Weldon Johnson’s words as illustrated by Bryan Collier.


Later Johnson moved permanently to New York. He continued to work for justice through his teaching and writing. A member of the Harlem Renaissance and friend to such writers like Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurtson, Johnson wrote fiction, memoir, lyrics, and poetry. In one poem that he wrote nearly 20 years after “Lift Every Voice and Sing,”  James spoke directly to the American dream. It’s called “To America.”

Now, what’s really cool is that we can even hear James Weldon Johnson reading the poem. This recording was made on Christmas Eve, 1934, when he was 63 years old.


Recording: Made on December 24, 1935 at Columbia University, recorded by Barnard professors George W. Hibbitt and W. Cabell Greet, lexicologists and scholars of American dialects.

Throughout his life, James Weldon Johnson kept celebrating African American culture and battling racism. But he was also careful to not let racism’s bitter destructiveness destroy his spirit. Around the time he recorded the reading of his poem, “To America,” he wrote out this pledge for himself:

I will not allow one prejudiced person or one million or one hundred million to blight my life. I will not let prejudice or any of its attendant humiliations and injustices bear me down to spiritual defeat. My inner life is mine, and I shall defend and maintain its integrity against all the powers of hell.

In “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” we hear the words:

Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,

Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us.

Today we are still singing a song full of faith. Its melody comes to us from the past. From James Weldon Johnson and his brother John Rosamond Johnson. From the millions of people who have since sung this song and dreamed of peace and justice, who have had faith in equality and love. We sing a song of hope and listen for its echo in our lives and in our country.

During our moment of quiet reflection, I would like you to think about how you can lift your voice and sing?

Please join me now in singing “Lift Every Voice and Sing.”


Johnson, James W. Lift Every Voice and Sing: A Pictorial Tribute to the Negro National Anthem. New York: Jump at the Sun/Hyperion Books for Children, 2000. Print.
(Historic black-and-white photographs accompany this version of the song.)
Johnson, James W, and Elizabeth Catlett. Lift Every Voice and Sing. New York: Walker, 1993. Print.
Johnson, James W, and Bryan Collier. Lift Every Voice and Sing. New York, NY: Amistad, 2007. Print.
Johnson, James W, and Jan S. Gilchrist. Lift Ev’ry Voice and Sing. New York: Scholastic, 2002. Print.


Keeping the Appointment


It is a word that calls up past acts of piety or love common in a time not our own.

Devotion lives across the street from Duty and in between the houses of Delight and Dour. It is a place, I am finding, that I must visit daily. Even when I don’t particularly have anything to say and would much rather skip it on the way to the store. After all, there is so much to do.

But when I pass by the house of Devotion, when I do not step into the reception room of the heart, suddenly my creative urge starts to fail me.

Because in addition to reflecting religious fervor, devotion is also a mark of being “ardently dedicated and loyal” according to ole Merriam-Webster.

When it comes to committing the creative act, we need to be both pious and ardently dedicated.

It helps to be in love, too.

Keeping the appointment

The poet Mary Oliver observes: “writing…is a kind of possible love affair between something like the heart (that courageous but also shy factory of emotion) and the learned skills of the conscious mind. They make appointments with each other, and keep them, and something begins to happen. Or, they make appointments with each other but are casual and often fail to keep them: count on it, nothing happens.” (A Poetry Handbook, 7)

This, for Oliver as well as a host of other writers, is the most important thing. One must set aside a time each day and show up at the desk. Even when you don’t know if any words will come. Maybe, especially when you don’t know if any words will come.

I continue to struggle with this. What do I have to add to the conversation when so many others have already spoken? How can I traverse the space between the thing that makes my body thrum and the words to describe it, make sense of it, and to–on the best days–even make my reader feel it in her own skin? When I was in college a friend once snapped at me, “Jennie, you write as if English is your second language!” The heat behind the comment quickly evaporated, but its meaning has stayed with me. There are times when English does feel like my second language. Problem is, my first language is no language at all, but a way of feeling and moving in the world. Everything I write originates from just that place.

And yet, the bigger the feeling, the more I am driven to put words to it.

“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture….” –Elvis Costello

I imagine a pyramid of svelte men and women in bright colored body suits interpreting the majesty of the Empire State Building. Elbow scaffolding, hips that carve space, calve muscles straining chrome. But for me, the joke is that such a comical dance is not just limited writing about music, it’s all writing. To dance about architecture is to aspire to pirouette a fan window or jeté through a portico of air–knowing that when I dance across the stage, it will look a lot more like a shambling gait. And I can call it a rough draft, or a moment of showing up, or even a way of moving from point a to point b. But really I know, this may be as good as it’s going to get. And I might as well call it art because that is what I aspire it to be.

Taking the art challenge

Here’s the deal: chances are if you are reading this you are a creative person. You thrill at those moments when the muse is chatty, and you are poised to take down every word. Problem is, despite your very best intentions, you have trouble keeping the appointment with that shy creature.

Back to Mary Oliver: “Say you promise to be at your desk in the evenings, from seven to nine. It waits, it watches. If you are reliably there, it begins to show itself–soon it begins to arrive when you do. But it you are only there sometimes and are frequently late or inattentive, it will appear fleetingly, or it will not appear at all. Why should it? It can wait. It can stay silent a lifetime.” (8)

Scary enough for you?

So, check in each week, grab the prompt and go. New prompts will be posted on Tuesday. Find a quiet place and write in response to the prompt for 15-30 minutes. Surely even busy people like you and me should be able to manage that! Only after you have something on paper, take a look or a listen to other examples if you like. Wait a day or three and reread what you wrote. Revise for 30 minutes or so. Feeling inspired? Keep writing with or without the prompt. It’s all golden.

After your initial revision, post what you wrote. Really. I will do the same. This online community would love to see it–and we promise to keep our own editing selves to our selves! In other words, this blog is a place to share your work, not to “fix” the work of others. We will receive it with the open, generous mind of fellow-writers and readers. Comments are welcome as are words of thanks.

My hope is that all this devotion will spill over into other days, other writing. And that is deserving of gratitude, ardent loyal, love, and acts of piety.

Write on!