Keynote Talk at Berklee Institute of Jazz and Gender Justice: October 30, 2018

Abstract

Keynote Talk at Berklee Institute of Jazz and Gender JusticeOctober 30, 2018 Farah Jasmine Griffin Edited Transcription I would be remiss if I did not say that this is a very celebratory occasion for us, but it falls in the midst of some pretty dark and difficult times for our nation, as we are witnessing horrific acts of violence across the country. I think we need to acknowledge when these kinds of things happen: the terrible loss of life, the senseless loss of life we have experienced. That is even more reason why our being here together is important, because we need, especially in times like these, to join together in community, to create community, to sustain it, to share in activities that remind us of our common humanity. Whenever we celebrate art, perhaps especially music, we are reminded of those things that connect rather than divide us. And jazz has always just been that capacious, bringing cultures and peoples in. It is deeply grounded in a specific history and culture, but it has always reached out and welcomed people and influences from far and wide. The music says, “Come in, tell your story, we want to hear it, we want to be in conversation with you.” That is jazz at its best and that is what we are here to do. A second reason why I think it is important that we come together to celebrate the Institute is because it is also a moment of institution building: the opening of this institute occurs at a moment of paradox. On the one hand, the opening is in the midst of the #MeToo movement, a moment of reckoning with issues around sexual harassment and sexual assault. If not a specific product of that movement, it is nonetheless part of the same historic moment that gives it birth, and it too asks that we take a look at questions of gender-based inequality, that we do the work of forging gender justice, together. It appears at the same time as the We Have Voice Collective, a group of fourteen female and nonbinary musicians in jazz and experimental music including Terri Lyne Carrington, Nicole Mitchell, Imani Uzuri, are challenging predatory and sexist behavior, articulating what a [End Page 1] more equitable workplace in music might look like;1 and also the birth of the Women in Jazz Organization, an advocacy group that was founded in 2017.2 It is a paradox, but not without precedent, because an ironic fact of life in America, particularly life for African Americans and for women, is that at times of deepest repression we have given birth to extraordinary cultural forms, contributions, innovations, and institutions committed to justice. The work of social change is the work of individuals joined together for a common goal, sustained by institutions like this one that support and provide space for people to organize, to research, to think, to analyze, and to be together. So we do have much to celebrate today. Not in spite of the horrible things happening in our nation, but because our gathering is actually an antidote to them, a pushback against despair, and an insistence of community, creativity, and building toward our vision of a better tomorrow. So thank you Terri Lyne for giving us the gift of this institute and of this occasion.3 I am a self-trained scholar of music. Before I was a scholar of music I was a lover of music—and a failed flute player—but I was also trained to be a scholar of literature, language, and cultural history. It is to language that I want to turn before returning to music. The Berklee Institute of Jazz and Gender Justice asks us to envision what jazz would look like, what it would sound like, without patriarchy. It asks, “What would jazz sound like in a culture without patriarchy?”4 This is a huge question, and a brilliant one. Let’s spend a little time on two specific words and phrases, the phrases that contain those words. The first word is “gender,” in gender justice, and the second is “patriarchy,” in culture without patriarchy. I am especially appreciative of the...