I recently had the great privilege of being hosted as a George A. Miller Visiting Artist at the University of Illinois and thus being able to spend time with artists Jason Finkelman and his wife, dancer/choreographer Cynthia Oliver. We had an informal salon of sorts at their home and I was able to witness brief touches of their art, when we came to this poem, written by Jason, who is a Nikkei Jewish musician and artist in Urbana, Illinois. As I grapple somewhat with my own sense of wavering hope and staunch activism in light of the coming November election, I thought it fitting to share this reflection from 2016, through the eyes of a pro-peace parent of a multiracial child. Beyond worry or hope over how much can change in a moment of election, I wonder alongside this piece—how will we persist together, in community, as we reassure each other of our collective power, communal care and interconnected struggle?
— traci kato-kiriyama
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Jason Finkelman combines laptop electronics and acoustic instrumentation to create a distinct ambient, avant-world sound. A specialist on the single string musical bow berimbau, Finkelman is a Philadelphia-born percussionist who performs on African and Brazilian instruments. His roots in improvised music include founding the NYC-based trio Straylight in 1992, decades of performances with genre-blurring improvisers and collaborative work with choreographer Cynthia Oliver. Finkelman currently leads the ever-evolving ensemble Kuroshio which released its eponymous CD on Asian Improv Records (2020). In 2023 Finkelman curated for Spurlock Museum, “Nikkeijin Illinois,” an exhibition on the Japanese American experience told through profiles of former and current faculty and staff of the University of Illinois, including his own Yonsei story. Finkelman’s thoughts occasionally manifest through the written word.
On This Day (When America Changed)
On this day
My multiracial son
Writhed in pain upon hearing the news.
Clutching his stomach he asks,
Can we move to another country?
Can you get me a bulletproof vest?
Stabbing parents with the fear and anxiety
A 12-year-old black boy
Faces in America.
A black boy in 21st century America
A witness to extraordinary histories
Of the first African American president
And the whitelash that followed.
I will share the 20th century struggles his ancestors faced,
One great grandfather pushing Nazis back through the Rhineland,
The other spending years in Japanese American prison camps,
Emerging from the war years negotiating a balance
Of trauma and loss with new hope and young families.
Tortured lives and deep scars are buried
To build better lives for their children
To build a better nation.
On this day
Our loss is great.
Our clocks are set back
With realities of hate breaking through
To conquer a divided nation.
There is work to be done.
There is so much work to be done.
On this day
I stand committed as an agent of change
An agent of curiosity constantly seeking knowledge
Of offering what I’ve learned
From family
From community
From music, theater, dance and film
From a poetic life pursuing artistic truth.
On this day
I stand committed as an agent of love
Of light
Of understanding and compassion.
On this day
I embrace my son
Reassure him he need not live in fear
Reassure him our nation will not be destroyed
Reassure him that peace and wisdom will prevail.
On this day (when America changed)
I pray these words are true.
*This poem was originally published on Whirlwind Press (2017) and is copyrighted by the author.
© 2017 Jason Finkelman
