77. "Doing a Brooke" – Katherine Halsey
This bold reaching out—to someone whose work we admire from a distance, someone we think we have little chance to engage with directly given their renown—has become known in our family as "doing a Brooke."
I’m listening now to Yo-Yo Ma playing Bach's complete cello suites as a memorial for those we’ve lost during the pandemic. Ma says he returns to Suite No. 5 in C minor again and again in difficult times and that this performance is dedicated to any and all of us who grieve, which of course, we all do. Inspired by my son, Brooke, this prompt merges my own experience of impossible loss and irrefutable resilience.
Brooke was an extraordinary soul, funny, kind, loving, and wicked smart, a linguist-science-oriented-outdoorsman-climber-dude. He was genuinely interested in just about everything, from bread baking to organic chemistry. And he was bold in a winningly humble sort of way: boundlessly curious, and undeterred by what most might understand to be conventional boundaries separating us from well-known people we admire.
So, in early 2003, Brooke decided to write, out of the blue, to a famous professor whose books he had read and whose work he admired. In the email, Brooke introduced himself, explained his interest in the professor's research, and then asked if he might be able to meet him. Within hours, Brooke received a gracious response from the iconic professor, inviting him to office hours the next day. Brooke ended up landing a dreamed-for job, helping with a project on the development of language in monozygotic and dizygotic twins.
This bold reaching out—to someone whose work we admire from a distance, someone we think we have little chance to engage with directly given their renown—has become known in our family as "doing a Brooke." Since his unexpected death in November 2009, his three sisters and I have done what we can to keep this part of Brooke's spirit alive. It will come as no surprise to you now that this is precisely how I met Suleika!
– Katherine Halsey
Prompt:
Think of someone whose work you admire. A great writer. An artist. An actor or musician. Even a politician. Someone you don't imagine you could ever get close to, or who would ever take notice of you and your concerns under normal circumstances. Now "do a Brooke." Write to that person, explaining what it is exactly you admire, and why you'd love to meet them.
And circling back to Yo-Yo Ma: if he's your guy, write to him!
Jeff Olsenholler
Location: Bryan, TX
About: The inspiration was: https://youtu.be/aOklq0KGne8, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=drEoqRaEt7U, and https://youtu.be/Sjd7Yhj91Jo
Age: 62
Dear Ms. Emmylou Harris:
I am writing to thank you for your role in making my new career as a hospice chaplain possible. I began as a hospice volunteer, and rapidly developed a specialty in working with difficult cases and vigiling with those actively dying – being present as they passed. It was, as you can imagine, emotionally difficult work, which I was able to do –initially – by becoming somewhat calloused of heart. I was clinically compassionate, to be sure, but I could feel my heart hardening so as to keep their suffering at a remove. Since a heart hardened against the pain and suffering of anyone is no longer fully available to the pain and suffering of loved ones, I knew I had to do something to remove that callous. And what worked marvelously well at removing that callous was your voice.
After a particularly difficult late night vigil with a cantankerous patient in the next county over from my home, I realized that the callous had gotten far too thick, and so in the midnight stillness of a small rural town, I put on “Bluebird”. “Icy Blue Heart” grabbed hold of the callous, “No Regrets” peeled it back, and with “A River for Him” I was able to add my own tears to that river. I drove home refreshed and enabled by your voice to continue volunteering in hospice while also remaining a loving husband and friend. I continued volunteering for some years, until I took a job in Texas. Sometime later, Hospice Brazos Valley sent an email to the Catholic deacons of Austin, asking if anyone was interested in joining them as a chaplain. Knowing that, thanks in part to your voice, that I can be with and love people in their suffering, while continuing to love friends and family, I applied and was accepted.
Thank you for making that possible.
Deacon Jeff Olsenholler
Lorelle Mariel Murzello
Location: Mumbai, India
About: My name is Lorelle and I am a Teacher-educator, researcher, and writer from Mumbai, India. The Isolation Journals has been that window to my soul and helped me understand this (crazy!) world and my place in it!
Age: 25
Dear Maggie Rogers,
I got introduced to you when someone sent me your interview+performance of ‘I wanna dance with somebody” on The Strombo Show, sometime in early February 2019. I remember that you spoke about how you listen to only 3 albums in a year and that really stuck with me.
Growing up, I adored my dad’s love for collecting music CDs and DVDs; in retrospect, it feels like he was my personal DJ curating this amazing musical experience for me. I grew up on a lot of music from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s (America) and I naturally found it difficult to talk about my musical experiences with people my age (No 13-year-old Indian girl got excited when I told them about The Highwaymen or Emmylou Harris or Stevie Nicks☹). When I listened to you speak, it felt like a reaffirming voice telling me to harness the gift of listening that my Father helped me cultivate with Music.
I was fresh out of a romantic relationship when I started listening to ‘Heard it in a past life’ and with this album I really really tried to listen. The first thing that I usually look out for in a song is its narrative, but I found myself leaning into every beat, every oo-ahh...every octave switch and that visual poetry thing that you do with your lyrics. Listening to the album on the train, on the bus or when I was out of the shower felt like the most liberating and exciting part of my day at the time.
I didn’t realize until very recently that this habit of listening and consciously assessing an album has helped me so much in my journey with Music; not only in how I relate to and learn the melody of a song but in how I relate to an artist and see the artist’s journey (Can I just add a quick note to Mr. Roland Barthes’: Hey Mr. B The author is really never dead!). So thank you!
Thank you for giving me Light On! It soon became my favorite break-up song…but eventually it also helped realize the beauty in the idea of reciprocity that helps human relationships thrive….seeing reciprocity as part of “unconditional love” values respect, equality and dignity and “reciprocity” and “selflessness” are therefore not mutually exclusive. So thank you for helping me reach that realization, it was a really hard thing to learn at 23, but I’m glad I learned it.
I’ve watched so many of your interviews (it’s part of the listening project I’ve embarked on) and can I just say that your accent makes self-awareness look cooler! I love how much of yourself you track in the narrative of your songs. Being only a little younger than you, I think I see the importance of addressing that growth and marking those epiphanies in a bold black marker because we go through monumental changes in our 20’s that sometimes hides behind this popular media narrative that 20-somethings are full of self-derogatory remarks and existential questions…So thank you for reframing that narrative!
I think your music has helped me reach a pivotal point where I’ve let myself accept and process things through writing and singing. It probably used to happen in the background but now I feel like it is more a ‘back in my body’ collaborative venture. Also, now when I sing ‘Love you for a long time’ I sing it to myself (that’s a big deal for adolescent Lorelle who’d constantly question herself)…and I am super ecstatic because of that snare sound in the song, it makes me dance on the road and I’m okay with that. Eeeee. Happy just thinking about it!
Another reason why I adore you is because you’re my grandmother’s namesake – My late grandmother Margaret Murzello used to work in the tablet section of a pharmaceutical company and when her health deteriorated, the company asked her to play music from a small room in the factory ---I’d like to believe she was the DJ of the factory and you’re a DJ--- And I feel blessed to know of two really cool DJ Margarets!
Thank you for coming in like a vision from the old-west wind.
Your sincere fan who you can count on to leave the light on,
Lorelle Mariel Murzello
Pat Taylor
Location: Precipice Valley, British Columbia, Canada
About: I am a Canadian wilderness woman and grandmother, compelled to understand “how to do better” during these unprecedented times of global change - for me, for my aspiring musician grandsons, and for our future. Inspired by Katherine Halsey’s Day 77 prompt, I wrote a letter to celebrated musician and humanitarian Jon Batiste, to express how grateful and inspired I was by his peaceful, musical Black Lives Matter demonstration in NYC. Like my grandsons' singing, Jon Batiste’s art “...transcended enjoyment and overwhelmed me with its power.” (Jon Batiste’s Day 67 prompt)
Age: 71
Dear Jon Batiste:
As per Katherine Halsey’s Prompt for Day 77 today, to “Do A Brooke” by writing to someone “whose work you admire. A great writer. An artist. An or actor or musician...Someone you don’t imagine you could ever get close to...write to that person, explaining what it is exactly you admire”, I am writing this letter to you.
Jon, ever since your Day 67 prompt - “When was the last time you experienced art that transcended enjoyment and overwhelmed you with its power? How would you translate that magic into words? If this hasn’t been an experience you’ve had—make it up.” - I have wanted to share with you what truly happened to me that day that was transformative and “overwhelmed me with its power.”
The night before Day 67, my son-in-law sent me an email of a song that my two grandsons, Luka (age 16) and Noah (age 14) recorded on his iPad in GarageBand, for a Men’s choir assignment requested by their high school choir teacher, Mr. Kozak. I was so excited to share this musical magic with you when I read your prompt the next day - Day 67. Nothing pleases me more than to see young people studying the art of music in all its forms. To watch my grandsons evolve and grow as musicians since an early introduction in elementary school through to high school gives me pleasure beyond words: Luka plays electric bass and stand-up bass - Noah plays saxophone - in the jazz band classes. They both sing in the men’s choir. Their jazz band teacher and their choir teacher continue to challenge and encourage them both in their musical endeavours.
I quickly wrote you a reply to your prompt that day, sharing with you how listening to their recording “transcended enjoyment” for me. But before my finger pushed “send”, I stopped - a deep sense of foreboding doubt hit me and made me pause. Black Lives Matter flashed across my consciousness and that made me ask the question: What is the history behind the song my grandsons were singing? Who wrote “You are My Sunshine”?
I Googled it and found out that although it is a popular song recorded by many famous singers (Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, Burl Ives, Ray Charles, Beach Boys, Aretha Franklin, Jonny Cash, Chuck Berry), the information which made me retract my finger from the “send” button was that “You Are My Sunshine” was popularized by Jimmie Davis - a country music singer who used it as his campaign song during his run for governor of Louisiana in 1948-1949 and 1960-1964, and he won running on a segregationist ticket. (AliceBulemrmusic.com)
Jon, it just seemed wrong to share my grandson’s a cappella rendition of that song, during the week you were honouring the Isolation Journal writers with your soothing, musical meditative prompts. You are one of the windows into a social structure that I need – want – to see, to understand better, more clearly. I love your determined and yet calm message for the changes we must make. Enough is enough. Anyway, your voice and your music influenced my decision that day. But I made an assumption that day. And now, I want to hear your opinion on whether or not there are “traditional songs”, party favourites, sung for years by young and old, that we should remove from our musical practices?
I listen to your music. I watched you speak, (masked, bullhorn in one hand, your keyboard in the other) during your peaceful demonstration walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn. I wrote posts while absorbing each magical note of your musical prompts. Am I wrong to reach out to ask the question? Hard questions. Difficult times. Yet, I feel if I don’t ask someone who I see as an inspirational teacher, then I am still part of the problem - not part of the solution.
In spite of all these doubts and fears, I feel compelled to share my grandson’s song with you - because I feel you, too, celebrate with our youth who are excitedly studying music and voice. Using their art to transform and transcend - bring people together - to be heard, seen and acknowledged.
My grandsons’ attempt at harmonizing - two teenage brothers (often at odds with one another) - working together to produce and perform a song for a teacher that they admire and respect - to me, it epitomizes how this magic of music works.
Thank you, Jon. I am grateful to be able to reach out to a world-class musician and kind-hearted human like yourself to find some clarity on this confusing question that still keeps me up at night. I want to discuss the complete history of “You Are My Sunshine” with my grandsons, but before I do, I wanted to hear from you, a professional musician, so I can speak from a clearer understanding and fresh perspective.
With uncertainty, but proudly, I present, Luka and Noah Taylor.
Pat Taylor