Well, I’m finally getting around to starting my personal blog. I set this up a while ago, but I’ve been working on two new websites. They’re both up and running now. One is my professional site, the other is for Singers Of The Street (S.O.S.).
I expect this will be a sort of stream of consciousness, relating my thoughts and dreams and worries and triumphs. I hope it makes sense. I may be the only person who ever reads it, which is just fine. I guess I want to start writing down some of my thoughts as a snap-shot of how I feel at a given point in time. I plan to write only when I have something to say, and that’s how I’m feeling today.
This has been a very eventful week in the big scheme of things. On Sunday at church – Metropolitan Community Church of San Francisco – the new choir, S.O.S., was announced at both services. I made a few remarks, and senior pastor, the Rev. Dr. Lea Brown, said a blessing and the congregations raised their hands in prayerful support. I was quite taken aback by their extremely positive responses. The folks at the evening service stood to their feet and applauded. I thought “well, I haven’t done anything yet.” But it did feel good to know that the mere idea of this project was able to elicit such positive energy. I truly felt lifted up, and it reminded me that I’m not in this alone.
Knowing that it was now less than a month until our first rehearsal, the time had now arrived to let the public know about S.O.S. The press release had been drafted a month earlier, but we had to get our ducks in a row before we could go public (e.g. securing volunteers including a pianist, finding a rehearsal venue, and having a very modest budget approved). I crossed my fingers and sent the details out to a few journalists.
Also realizing the importance of the internet to spread the word (I’ve learned recently that people who are homeless in San Francisco can get free email access in places like public libraries), I set about making a Facebook page for the group. It’s now 24 hours later, and we have almost 100 fans already! Heartening news.
When I woke up this morning, I turned on the TV and heard that the group called Sidewalks Are For People was to launch its campaign against Prop L at 10 am (i.e. less than 2 hours hence) at Harvey Milk Plaza. I was startled. What synchronicity! I sent a text to Lea right away, and then headed to the Castro neighborhood. En route on MUNI, I busied myself by writing the S.O.S. URL on the back of a few business cards. S.O.S. is so new, we don’t have any materials yet.
Upon arriving at Castro Station at around 10:15 am, I went up the escalator and suddenly found myself in the middle of a rally. A small but passionate group was gathered, including representatives from a variety of groups including the Mission Neighborhood Day Workers and others. Many held signs. There were TV cameras and photographers. I felt ill-prepared, to say the least. Lea hadn’t arrived yet. I spied my old friend Joey Cain standing behind the speaker at the microphone. I sidled up to Joey and whispered “Have you heard about my new project?” He indicated that he hadn’t, so I gave him my 10-second elevator (or in the case, escalator) speech.
The speaker at the microphone ended his speech. Joey snapped to attention, with yellow note pad at the ready, and sprang to the mic to introduce the next speaker. What luck – Joey was the organizer of this auspicious gathering! He said he couldn’t fit us onto the program this time, but he would for sure next time. He did, however, announce our new venture to the crowd.
The speakers at the rally included a variety of people. A young Hispanic woman with a small baby talked about how she didn’t want to raise her son in a place where he would feel afraid to do something as natural as sitting. An almost-80-year-old priest said that sometimes his tired bones require that he should sit down. It was acknowledged by all that Prop L was about finance. The supporters of Prop L have already received sizable donations from corporations. Those who opposed Prop L have very modest means indeed.
Joey concluded the rally by reminding us that Harvey Milk had fought against this same proposed law when he was in office. Standing there in Harvey Milk Plaza, fighting for this new cause (I mean, new to me – I’ve been fighting almost solely for gay rights for the last decade), it all started to fall into place. A shiver came over me, but not just from the freezing summer fog that had enveloped us. It was the sort of shiver that gives you goosebumps. The shiver of being in the right place at the right time.
Harvey Milk and I share the same birth date: May 22. It was at Harvey Milk Plaza, almost ten years ago to the day, where I learned this fact, printed on a plaque on a brick wall in the Plaza. This was also adjacent the site of my office when I first started with the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus (SFGMC) in 2000 (the old bank building on the corner of Castro and Market, which is now a Diesel store). I felt the same shiver all those years ago. You see, SFGMC’s first ever public appearance was at the candlelight vigil the night that Milk was assassinated. Milk is forever tied to the history of the world’s first openly gay men’s chorus. It had given me pause ten years ago when I first made this personal connection.
Today, it all hit me again. I had been wondering how I was going to make the shift from gay politics to protesting basic human rights for people who are homeless. But Harvey helped me… again. He reminded me, through Joey’s words, that it’s all the same fight. It’s about fighting for what’s right. Standing up (or even sitting, in this case) for the values that make San Francisco the Utopia it was intended to be.
It was also the day that SFGMC sent out a press release announcing my resignation, and that my final concert would be Dec. 24, 9 pm at the Castro Theatre. As I stood there on Harvey’s corner, across the street from the Castro Theatre, I was struck with a powerful sense of momentum. Today wasn’t the beginning of the end – it was simply the beginning of the next phase. I would stand alongside the Joey Cains and Molly McKays and Lea Browns and many others I’ve had the good fortune to get to know and continue in Harvey’s name to raise our voices for justice, healing, and ultimately – joy. And this is the mission of S.O.S.
By the end of the day, as I mentioned, S.O.S. had almost 100 fans on Facebook. Chuck Nevius had mentioned S.O.S. in his column in The Examiner. I had heard from journalists from SF Chronicle, New York Times, and a film producer in LA. All this attention, and we don’t even have choir members yet! But knowing from experience the power that music has to reach the soul and change hearts and minds, I now have no doubt at all that S.O.S. truly will make a significant difference.
The most common question I’ve been asked since we announced S.O.S. is: “But how will you find people to sing in it?” Such is the wide gap in our society. We see people on the streets every day, yet they are invisible to many. Last week, I was walking along Powell Street near Union Square. A disheveled man was asking passers by for change. I caught his eye, smiled, and said: “Sorry, I don’t have any today.” He beamed a wide grin right back at me, and thanked me for speaking to him. Suddenly, he looked no different than everyone else on that street.
I am convinced that S.O.S. can help to make everyone visible. That is the essential first step toward building a humane society. If any city can do it, San Francisco can. We just need to help soften some hearts, and music is the way to do it.
Thank you, Harvey, and Joey, and the man on Powell Street, for reminding me what this is all about.
