Fast forward to present day, we still see the use of music as a form of liberation and resistance to discriminatory and oppressive powers.
Music has always been a potent tool for galvanizing communities, and that is certainly the case when it comes to protests. Dating back centuries, the protest song has been long associated with creating a singular message for communities looking to change the world around them for the better.
The LGBTQ+ community in the nation’s capital is sending a clear message: they will not be erased. Hundreds of activists, drag performers, and allies took to the streets Thursday night, marching from Washington Circle to the Kennedy Center in defiance of President Donald Trump’s self-appointment as chairman of the Washington, D.C. performing arts institution. The demonstration, filled with music, dancing, and resistance, was a rallying cry against Trump’s abrupt takeover and his directive to eliminate drag performances from the center’s programming.
Protesters held signs reading “Drag is here to stay” and “Free D.C.,” while others played music and danced in the street.
“When we restrict the arts, we restrict the ability of people to fight back within the culture,” protest organizer Bennett Shoop of the Claudia Jones School for Political Education told D.C. television station WDCW.
For many, Trump’s targeting of drag is about more than performance—it’s an attack on the broader LGBTQ+ community. “These attacks on drag are thinly veiled attacks on trans people,” a drag performer named Brooke told the station. “They want to classify trans people living their authentic lives as them ‘doing drag,’ so we really need to be here today, show up, and stand up for trans and drag rights.”
D.C. drag queen Tara Hoot was firm in her mission. “We’re not going to let people steal our joy,” shetold CBS affiliate WUSA.
The administration’s actions have sparked a backlash from the arts and entertainment world. Issa Rae, Shonda Rhimes, and musician Ben Folds pulled their support and canceled planned appearances in protest. Meanwhile, the National Symphony Orchestra’s musicians have authorized a strike.
As long as we live in what Maya Angelou described as “these yet to be United States of America” there will always be visionary artists who craft music that resonates with our dreams, our aspirations, our pain, and our struggles
For generations, Black protest songs have had revolution in sight. Born out of anger and exasperation, these songs have fueled our motivation and served as reminders of what’s at stake—equality and a complete upheaval of the systems that were built to oppress Black people. During times of rebellion, anthems like Bob Marley’s “I Shot the Sheriff,” Nina Simone’s “Mississippi Goddam,” Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On,” and many more have amplified issues of injustice. Often, the anger in these songs is justifiably directed at the police’s abuse of power, a tactic they’ve used for decades to keep the communities they fear from uprising.
As protesters streamed through the streets of New York on Sunday afternoon, one group’s chants of “Black lives matter!” and “No justice, no peace!” gave way to a sound more often heard at weddings and block parties. On 125th Street in Harlem, hundreds of people, many of them professional dancers, had congregated for a peaceful march across town and a collective performance of the Electric Slide.
The sea of grapevining, step-touching demonstrators, who filled a plaza near Malcolm X Boulevard, had been called together by two New York dancers, Sheen Jamaal, 27, and Alison Bedell, 24 (also known as Buttons). The event, Dance for George, paid tribute to George Floyd and called attention to the work of black artists at the heart of the dance and entertainment industries. Every so often the jostling line dance would reshape itself into a circle, with dancers freestyling at the center as the packed crowd cheered them on. (A mix of “Electric Boogie” spliced with hip-hop and R&B classics had been prepared for the occasion.)
The alternately euphoric and somber gathering — after the dancing came a silent, nine-minute kneel — is just one instance of dance intersecting with protest over the past two weeks of global demonstrations against racism and police brutality. Widely shared videos have shown a rendition of the Cupid Shuffle on the streets of Newark; an offering of bomba, an Afro-Puerto Rican tradition, from a young protester in Loíza, Puerto Rico; and a jingle dress dance, a healing practice rooted in Ojibwe culture, performed in Minneapolis as a prayer for Mr. Floyd’s family
Scroll through social media, and you might also find twerking in New Orleans, Senegalese Sabar in Los Angeles and the Haka (an ancient Maori war dance) in New Zealand, all proclaiming through the body that black lives matter. The examples are so abundant that one hip-hop dancer and scholar, MiRi Park, has created a public Google document listing occurrences of dance as protest since May 26, together with further reading on the subject. It expands every day.
At the center of many of these videos are dancers expressing pain and joy — affirming that they are alive. Some came to the streets with the purpose of dancing. Others were moved to dance more spontaneously, and surprised to find themselves seen by millions online.