A few weeks ago I joined the beginning of a local chapter of a larger group, Singing Resistance. Born from the movement of locals in Minneapolis during the ICE disturbances, it has become a larger, more broad-based movement that seeks to make nationwide the differences made in that instance.
I am not a good singer, not even much of a mediocre singer. My wife often tells me she can't tell what I'm singing even if she listens. But I was told decades ago I had a voice for protest songs, that I make up in volume what I lack in talent, and I'm content with that.
We learned several songs which we will use when deployed. The one that stuck most with me is called "Sola El Pueblo, Salva El Pueblo," meaning "Only the people will save the people." Per Francis Russell, it is a phrase grown out of Puerto Rico after the disasters of Hurricane Maria and privatization of electricity and distribution. Perhaps the greatest symbol of the US response to this was the infamous photo op of trump tossing rolls of paper towels into a crowd.
A five man singing group called Peace Poets put it to an a capella tune and added another line; "And if one of us falls, we all rise up!" It's this image I want to focus on.
One of my favorite punk songs is "Get Up" by Sleater-Kinney. Released at the very end of the millennium, it's come to mean more to me as the years wear on. That charge, "Get up!", strikes a chord in my soul time after time. The song's lyrics, credit for which is shared by the three members, cut through a miasma of despair with the refrain.
A large part of why it's remained so resonant with me is the video to it by Miranda July. Here is blogger Jovana Babovic running down the origin of the video. "The video for “Get Up” was a collaborative effort between the producer, the band, and their fans. The vision for the video, as guitarist Carrie Brownstein explained, “was Miranda July’s interpretation of our song.” The band invited friends and fans to star as extras and, on the day of the shoot, everyone assembled in a field outside Olympia. The band’s publicist Julie Butterfield remembered that filming stated early in the morning, around seven, while it was still cold and frosty outside. For drummer Janet Weiss, the experience was overwhelmingly positive. “It was fun,” she told the zine Rockrgrl. More than that, the band was pleased with the video because, as they described it, it was provocative rather than cliché."
The video, if you have never seen it, is simple in its execution, its effects, and its black and white coloring. Take a moment to watch it. See if you agree with Pitchfork's Julianne Escobido Shepherd who calls it Sleater-Kinney's best video.
[It] is a black-and-white motif of women walking through a field, the evergreens of Oregon piercing the sky behind them. They are holding hands; as they walk through the grass, they pick Weiss, Tucker and Brownstein off the ground, as their warm notes and high-hat hits seem to cloak the specks of light in the lens. Shots of meteors flash in and out. The images are an evocative metaphor for Sleater-Kinney's career: leg-ups for downtrodden women; hope, promise, and humor through ingenuity and virtuosity; a coalition of ideas without bounds. The video ends with a hot pink cartoon supernova. Brownstein looks up in awe. Their impact fans out.
What would I add to that? That the image of women crossing a field holding hands and bodily lifting others off the ground, those others then joining the line, is a powerful and mesmerizing one. It's one of the best impulses of the Beloved Community, the act of lifting another and continuing forward. I would also add that the final shot reinforces that, in moving forward, we will always come across more fallen. There will always be people in the grass, and there will always be a need for helpers.
