Meaning Something

The movie ends and silence fills the room more thickly than Billie's last aching note. I am afraid to look at the class still,and busy myself with the television buttons. The teacher, Patrica Dominguez, asked me to bring in a 30 minute listening activity. Something fun and upbeat. I believe the word she used was “danceable,” but I just couldn't do it. When most of what Argentine's know about music from the U.S. Is Rhianna and Eminem, I felt I had to do something a little bit different.
I've always loved jazz music. On my Fulbright application I proposed to teach English through the lens of Jazz culture and history. From its ricky-tick rhythm birth in the streets of New Orleans to the smooth pluck of Charles Mingus' bass, jazz has tapped our feet and trilled our sorrows through an eventful American decade.
So, because it's important for me to share meaningful aspects of US culture, instead of “Umbrella” I brought in a Billie Holiday song called “Strange Fruit.”
The class was a group of third year translation students. Their pronunciation is not as good as the language students I have, but their skills at reading and analyzing text are well-developed. I opened the lesson with a brief history of Jazz's beginnings from the 1920s-1940s, then a more profound look at Billie Holidays life leading up to the first time she sang the song in the Culture Club. Then I passed the copies of the lyrics I had made, minus a few of the words that they were to fill in.
Do you know the song? It gives me chills every time I hear it. Imagining Billie singing it for the first time in volatile New York City in front of a mixed race audience, her fingers leaving sweat marks on her evening gown as they clenched and unclenched the fabric, sends my heart racing. I wanted to bring this aching lament to my students as a song that meant something- a representation of one of the many diverse American faces who stood up for what they believe in- a representation of the fighting reformist spirit that makes me proud to be a United States citizen.
I found a youtube video of Billie singing with only piano accompaniment at my friend, Mauro's, house, and he helped me to download it and put it on a DVD. I was excited to bring it n but anxious to see how the students would respond. And here I was, fiddling with the television set at the end of the video, feeling in a very small way like Billie did as she waited in silence after the last line fell, waited to see what would come next. I looked up and saw eyes wide open. I saw an older woman in my class with tears in her eyes. I saw dropped jaws and forgotten pens. I saw understanding reflected in the profundity of their breaths.
“What did you think?” I asked, and greeted the wave of responses as I imagine Billie greeted the roar of applause that eventually filled the saturated silence of the jazz club- grateful to have said something that mattered to me, and even more grateful that it mattered to someone else.