Brown Bodies as “Strange Fruit”: 1939 to Present

When I listen to many forms of music, I often search for signs of history. The evolution of sound and society fascinates me. From its inception, music conveyed messages of pain, independence, joy and love through rhythm and words. It preserves the stories of generations past and teaches us what history doesn’t. When music really connects, it embeds itself in a way that becomes part of us. Such is what happened the night “Strange Fruit” snatched my breath away.

I’d heard “Strange Fruit” more times than I can count. Its meaning had never escaped me. I’d heard Nina. I’d heard Bob Dylan. But, I deeply felt Audra McDonald as Billie “Lady Day” Holiday in Lady Day on Broadway.

In that dark, intimate theatre, “Lady Day” told us about a night when she was forced to eat in a venue’s kitchen because her kind was not welcome amongst the “civilized”. As she relayed the details, I no longer saw an actor portraying a character, I saw a legend come back to life. With her dignity and grace firmly in place, she described the incident. When asked where she could relieve herself, she was told there was no restroom designated for “colored” women and that she was only permitted to entertain. That story led to the performance of “Strange Fruit”. As I struggled to control the nasally tingle of an impending ugly cry, I looked around to see if I was the only one affected.

Through my eyes, white people were being entertained while black people were being reminded of this country’s shameful behavior towards them. While I absorbed the scene before me, I was left breathless. My mind wandered as it made the relevant connection to the violence committed against black and brown people in today’s time.

The words, “Southern trees bear strange fruit,” conjure images of my ancestors’ beaten bodies, noose tightening around their neck, and convulsing ligaments as the last vestiges of life slipped away. Strong, towering figures were now rendered mute as they choked on their own blood, gasping for air while “swingin’ in the Southern breeze”. The opening packs a powerful punch of a song that does not let up.

The song does not reference the mobs gathered against the “pastoral scene of the gallant south” to witness the executions, or the injustice that followed. Nor does it mention the broken families left behind or the future generations that remain shackled to the past. But that’s what makes it so powerful; the in-your-face imagery and the space for the imagination to fill the gaps.

I’ve watched the murders of my brothers and sisters at the hands of police go unpunished, while the scene from Lady Day on Broadway loops in my head. Have we really moved that far beyond the song Ms. Holiday made famous and Ms. McDonald resurrected? Or have we simply moved from literal to metaphorical “lynching” with police and vigilantes picking us off for sport, while their crimes against humanity go unpunished?

I can’t help but think of the documentary, “Spies of Mississippi” and the decades-long effort by the Ku Klux Klan to infiltrate police departments across the nation. Are we seeing the successful implementation of a long term plan aided by complicit prosecutors and unfair grand jury practices? When did bloodied brown bodies left in the streets “for the crows to pluck” become the norm?

It dawned on me that somewhere along the line, people of color have ceased to be seen as human beings. We are entertainers; we can perform but must be careful of the imagery. Commitments to diversity are met with harsh push back and allegations of “racism”. We are to remain in “our” place that others have created and defined.

I think of history and the shifting ground beneath us. Over many years now, the progress of African-Americans seems to be a continuous cycle. “Strange Fruit” was about lynching and the preservation of power. With each generation, a new form is created to maintain the status quo.

Despite the efforts in the 60s, an era which brought about great change and extraordinary music about empowerment, pride and agony, we are again fighting to be heard, seen, acknowledged and respected. The rage and frustration that’s been bubbling beneath the surface has now erupted. The collective that crosses racial lines is screaming, “We are not going to take it anymore!”

It has been nearly 80 years since Ms. Holiday recorded “Strange Fruit”. There is a movement afoot started by the people, for the people, for justice, for equality and now, as then, the music reflects the times. It may make some uncomfortable, but there is nothing less comfortable than fearing each breath may be your last. Those of us who truly believe in freedom and humanity can’t breathe until all of us can. Freely.

Watch Audra McDonald in “Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill” on HBO, March 12, 2016 at 9:00 pm EST.