Arts Beat: Arts Gala more than a party; helps leave a legacy

“What makes your big head so hard?”

I typed those words in response to a text message from Josh Bragg in a group message, so they showed up in a blue bubble tied directly to his previous message.

Now, I imagine reading this you likely had one of two reactions. If you’re reading this out of context you might have thought to yourself, “I thought she was kind. Why on earth was she being so mean to Josh?” Or, if you’re of a certain generation, or have had life experiences similar to Josh and me, perhaps reading my words immediately contextualized the situation and you yelled to yourself: “Mop!”

Okay, now that I’m thinking critically as I type, I realize you, as a reader, may have bristled at a sentence in the previous paragraph … “life experiences similar to Josh and me.” If you know Josh, and if you know me, you might think it bold to compare our life experiences, especially during Black History Month.

I am Caucasian, I took ballet lessons, spend too much money on lattes, and have never been denied any opportunity. In fact, I am of the mindset that I am entitled to something if I simply ask or work for it. Read: I enjoy privilege. Josh Bragg is about five years younger than I and is African American. I know Josh was raised by an incredible, strong single mother and I cannot pretend to know how much more difficult basic life milestones (getting a job, feeling safe as a young driver, getting a scholarship to college) were for Josh due merely to the color of his skin.

There is one critically significant commonality in our lives. We both grew up in a community with an active arts council invested in providing opportunity for its youth. In fact, we met in Athens Area Children’s Choir, made possible by Athens Area Council for the Arts. I was in ninth grade and he was in fourth. Because of this age gap, our paths likely would never have crossed were it not for AACA. Because we both sang in Children’s Choir, we traveled and performed together at Biltmore Estate during their Candlelit Christmas in November 2000. We also enjoyed sharing a stage with Wendel Werner — an accomplished touring performer, music educator, and recording artist, who was in our young minds (and honestly still is) as talented and famous as Herbie Hancock.

It was over the course of Wendel’s residency with Children’s Choir — which included a performance for a large audience of local school children — that we were conditioned to respond to the call, “what makes your big head so hard?” with an enthusiastic, “Mop!”

It’s “Caldonia,” a jump blues song and chart-topper by Louis Jordan. Learning this song from Wendel was so formative that even as I type the words I can hear his two hands pounding those blues chords over seven counts: “What makes your big head so hard?”

It’s a core memory for Josh, too, because the message from him that garnered the phrase in response from me was a request that Wendel perform “Caldonia” for the 8th grade class at Athens City Middle School.

The Friday following this text exchange I sat among a few hundred eighth grade students in the ACMS auditorium watching Wendel at the Steinway, and Josh — now Mr. Bragg, the ACMS music and theatre arts teacher — with a microphone. Mr. Bragg had just performed one of his vocal numbers from Athens Community Theatre’s production of “Ain’t Misbehavin’” and used the dance break to demonstrate scatting techniques in an improvised interchange with his co-performer Miah Baker.

For a moment I was so lost in the magic of their performance that I felt like the thirteen-year-old girl I once was watching a live performance by a real-life legend.

I slipped out of my trance enough to turn around and observe the actual thirteen-year-olds in the audience watch the show. Not surprisingly, they were as enchanted as I. As mystified as I generally am by middle schoolers, that afternoon I felt a deep kinship with those eighth graders as they threw their arms overhead with glee.

“What makes your big head so hard?”

“MOP!”

Mr. Bragg and I exchanged sideways smiles and I sensed he was feeling it too. I was overcome by emotion yet unable to express it. I am rarely lost for words but there I sat, aching to articulate, when another “Ain’t Misbehavin’” performer spoke the words for me.

Crystal Hall was answering a question about what inspires her to make music. She was speaking of her three creative children and their futures when she said the words that resonated in my soul like the eighty-eight strings of that grand piano: “Another generation behind me that’s going to be better than I could ever imagine,” Crystal said, “that’s what I’m working for.”

I sat immersed in a crowd of thirteen year-olds enthralled in an educational and inspiring experience so similar to the one Josh and I enjoyed twenty-five years ago because my parents and my friends’ parents were devoted to creating an arts legacy for our community.

That spirit shaped us so deeply that we, too, are now planting trees to grow shade we may never enjoy. Josh, Miah, Crystal, Wendel, and many of our friends are working to empower a generation that is stronger, brighter, and better than we can imagine.

And you can join us.

In addition to our ticketed events, we rely on the generous support of our individual donors to support our mission. There are many ways to do this, but perhaps one of the most fun is attending the Annual Arts Gala. The Arts Gala is a critical fundraiser as we aim to fund about ten percent of our annual budget through the proceeds from our silent and live auctions.

When I was that thirteen-year-old swooning for jazz piano, I wanted to go to the Gala because I thought it was all about dressing up, dancing, and having a fun evening with friends. Now, I understand that all those Galas I couldn’t attend weren’t just epic parties — they are what made it possible for me to sing in Children’s Choir. Those Galas helped shape Joshua’s musical journey and career. Ultimately, they were part of the gestalt of the spirit of our community that led me to dedicate my career to enriching my hometown.

The Annual Arts Gala on March 8 will be the twelfth gala I have attended as an AACA employee. In those twelve years, Gala attendees have helped send more than 600 students to arts camps free of charge and made it possible for The Arts Center to provide summer arts education. In those twelve years, Gala attendees have helped furnish functional and artistic equipment such as security cameras to ensure the safety of our youth participants and a theatrical scrim to bring to life the directorial vision of one teenage theatre director. In those twelve years, Gala attendees have funded the purchase of theatre chairs that hold an audience from more than six states outside our own. The list goes on; essentially the proceeds from the Annual Arts Gala help us produce exhibits, classes, concerts, camps, plays and more that make a demonstrated impact on our local economy and help strengthen the livability of our community.

The Annual Arts Gala is not just a party — it’s a room full of people who want to play a part in serving the next generation. The Annual Arts Gala is about working to leave a legacy that’s better than we could ever imagine.