“Serve the Lord with Gladness; come before his presence with singing”
Psalm 100:2
The bible verse above is carved into the "Westminster Arch" inside Princeton University chapel. Students graduating from Westminster Choir College pass through the arch during Commencement, a decades-old tradition founded in the rich shared history between these two schools. When it was finally my turn to walk through the arch, I knew I had come one step closer in fulfilling my purpose to minister unto the world through song.
Music has been in my life for at least as long as I can remember, and probably longer. Singing gives me incredible joy - not merely because the physicality of the act enthralls me, but because I cannot sing without calling to mind the legacy of worship and praise that carried the generations that preceded me through unthinkable hardship. I sing today because my parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents sang themselves, not on operatic stages, but because singing – worship – was woven into every aspect of daily life, through thick and thin.
My great-great-grandparents and their children would sing spirituals every day walking the two-mile route to and from the cotton field where they worked. My grandmother, Joyce, affectionately known as Mumma, sang these same spirituals throughout her life, eventually coming to study under the mentorship of Roland Hayes, who helped her earn a full scholarship to Juilliard. Although she turned down the opportunity to pursue a professional operatic career (a rarity for any black woman in the mid 20th century), choosing instead to become a nurse, she continued to sing until the end of her life. I was lucky enough to hear her vocalize in our music room growing up, and it was within the walls of my childhood home – walls that once regularly vibrated with the joy and warmth of her breathtaking sound – that I first began to understand the fundamental purpose of this musical legacy I had inherited: to glorify God.
I sing today because of my grandmother, who, before allowing me to utter a note in my first voice lesson, ensured I knew for Whom I was about to sing. She then began to teach me the Lord’s Prayer, a staple in her repertoire, and now in mine.
My mother with my grandmother, Mumma.
Years after her passing, I was moved to tears one afternoon while practicing “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child.” Mumma had performed it countless times, and as I learned it myself, I began to realize just how she deeply connected to God when she sang. Though she had passed away a few years before, in that moment I felt I could understand her more deeply than I ever had, and I began to commune with my Savior as never before.
Me with my grandmother Amy, cousin of the folk singer, Burl Ives
My grandad, Tom Tom, whose love of folks songs and singing was infectious!
As I continue to hone my craft, it is my fervent hope that my audiences might also come to know and experience this transcendent joy - this unknowable, immeasurable, omnipotent, and omnipresent Love that binds all of creation! Whether in an empty house, a practice room, a hospital, or in a concert hall, my desire and objective always remain the same: to glorify God by bringing love and peace to every listener. To Love.