SUNDAY, JULY 9, 2000

I must say, Detroit is certainly showing off for my friends from San Francisco!

Yesterday we attended the Concert of Colors, a celebration of Metro Detroit's Cultural Diversity. There was music and dance from Africa, the Carribean, the Middle East, Asia, Europe and North America. Four stages ran continuously from 2-10:30 PM, including a Children's Stage and a World Rhythm Stage, both of which encouraged audience participation. We saw two favorites of mine from the 50s and 60s--Bo Diddley, a rock-and-roll icon of my high school years, and Buffy Sainte Marie, the longtime Native American peace activist singer/songwriter from Canada. And the entire festival was free of charge!

It would be hard to imagine a more striking setting. Winding paths, grassy knolls with pink impatiens-surrounded trees, ponds and fountains, attractive vending booths, 4 tent-covered stages...all sitting on the shores of the Detroit River. The Main Stage--under a mammoth white tent--has tiers of 1500-2000 seats looking down on an open-backed, multi-colored lighted stage. The backdrop is the river itself. Excursion boats, lakers and pleasure boats passed by or anchored, listening to the music. Windsor, Ontario's lights sparkled brightly across the river as night came on. And a hazy half moon lit La Lucha's way down the concrete ramp after the show.

But what impressed me most were the people. Talk about diverse! Men and women in embroidered African pant suits, dresses and headwear. Scarved Muslim women. Asian and Latin American families. City and suburban. Young and old. Affluent and homeless. Friendly strangers and long-lost friends. We were all there together. Clapping to the beat. Dancing in the aisles. Drumming on plastic pails. Greeting one another with smiles.

What an example of our being world family, with richly unique cultural traditions to share. The celebration continues today, and this time I'm bringing my drum!
 

MONDAY, JULY 10, 2000

Yesterday afternoon at the Concert of Colors festival, the vocalist Amina and her band from Tunisia made their first appearance in the United States. She was obviously nervous, although I understand she's a huge success in North Africa, the Middle East and Europe. One young woman stood in the corner on the audience side of the stage, dancing to the music. The TV cameras broadcasting this event live scurried around, shooting Amina and the band, and this lone dancer. That was how it looked during the first two songs.

By a half hour into her set, the floor around the stage was literally packed with people. Grinning toddlers bounced on their mother's or father's shoulders. Teens swayed sensuously. Little girls held hands with a woman I know, and skipped in a circle. White-bearded long-haired men danced like we did in the 60s. Women were wearing everything from long flowing Kente-cloth skirts, to shorts and midrift-baring tank tops, to khaki slacks and Izod T-shirts, to black scarves and long-sleeved jilbabs and thobes. An older man, hunched over with a debilitating bone condition, danced with a shy smile on his face. Men with dreadlocks, shining bald heads, kufi hats, gel-spiked hair and ponytails moved to the music. Very few folks seemed to have known one another before this moment. Persons of all colors and national origins dancing, laughing, singing together. Amina became electric, and her band members couldn't stop smiling as they played. Her music and movements were hauntingly evocative of distant places and traditions, yet strangely familiar.

It suddenly occurred to me as I watched this scene in awe...this is the way we want to be. It is our most natural way of being in the world. Free. Defenseless. Open. Inviting and invited. At ease. Sharing our cultural heritage in music and dance. Respecting one another's uniqueness. No bigotry or barriers separating us. No one feeling strange or set apart. Each being true to her or himself. Being willing to reach out to strangers and discover there is no such thing as a stranger.

When I put this image next to the image of the Pentagon's anti-missile test on Friday--the voices that insist we must protect ourselves from those rogue countries that seek to destroy us--I saw a truth. Given half a chance, we are who we were at the first. Innocent ones with arms reaching out, smiles creasing our cheeks, feet kicking in a jig, voices raised in delight. All we must do as a global community is create shared opportunities like this cultural diversity festival in Detroit. Opportunities to practice our natural ways of being together.

I am changed from this experience. I now see who we really want to be. How we want to be together. What community actually feels like. This is no longer an ideal or hope I cling to. It is a reality. A lived, breathed, danced and sung reality.
 

© 2002 Patricia Lay-Dorsey. Please use with attribution.