Music & Peacebuilding

Tacoma Refugee Choir Part 1

Kevin Shorner-Johnson Season 4 Episode 11

This first episode explores the backgrounds of Erin Guinup and Orlando Morales, directors of the Tacoma Refugee Choir. This episode looks at histories of belonging, how we cross thesholds into belonging, and the role of the voice and choir in cultivating belonging. Exploring Erin Guinup's travels abroad, we look at how travel opens our acceptance of hospitality and gives us the life changing experience of not belonging as we lean into the generosity of others. Finally, the episode concludes with an exploration of Orlando Morales' background in theatre, what theatre and story telling does for us, and how we benefit from holding space for stories at the margins.

The Music & Peacebuilding Podcast is hosted by Kevin Shorner-Johnson at Elizabethtown College. Join our professional development network at www.musicpeacebuilding.com - thinking deeply we reclaim space for connection and care.

Orlando Morales:

Why the act of choral singing is important, I think it's that it connects us to this, this very primordial spirit. It reminds us of our humanity and that part of our humanity that is social.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

You are listening to season four of the music and peace building podcast, a podcast season focused on multi faceted textures of belonging. Our podcast explores intersections of peacebuilding, sacredness, community, creativity and imagination through research and story. Erin Guinup was the founding executive and artistic director of the Tacoma refugee choir. She has spoken at TEDx Seattle, led community singing events and has spoken at national conferences for chorus America, National Association of Teachers of singing, ACDA, and the International Congress of voice teachers in Stockholm, Sweden. As a solo artist and sought after teacher, Aaron has performed as A guest soloist with ensembles including Symphony Tacoma, Ensign symphony and Northwest repertory singers. Orlando Morales serves as Artistic Director for Tacoma refugee choir. He has significant experience teaching music and theater and as an arts administrator he works to empower young people and build stronger communities. He is a Johnny Mercer foundation songwriters project alum, a Jonathan Larson grant finalist and received a National Fellowship from the Dramatists Guild foundation in 2024 This podcast is a journey across two years of conversations about the Tacoma refugee choir or the TRC, the first interview with Erin Guinup took place two years prior, when she was the director of the TRC. The second interview is with Orlando Morales, the newly named director of the Tacoma refugee choir. Weaving these two interviews together across a two part series, we look at what it means to belong, how choir might construct places, relations, spaces and identities, and finally, how we might expand space for diverse stories of migration, belonging and identity. The first episode is a shorter introduction to the longer second episode that examines experiences of belonging and belonging uncertainty and what choral contexts do for belonging. I first asked Erin and Orlando how they experience belonging in artistic contexts. So as we get started, I know that, you know, there's definitely a story in 2006 as you go to a conference, that is the origins of your move towards a refugee choir. But from listening to earlier podcasts, I think the story of of what it means to belong musically happens a lot earlier for you, and you've talked a little bit about what it meant to belong the middle school level, and there's obviously a really gifted music teacher there, and you seem to find the space where you're not bullied, and you come into being. So I wondered if you could start the start the conversation, maybe there or earlier, about where does musical belonging start for you?

Erin Guinup:

I think being in middle school where I was bullied and coming out of a pretty traumatic experience for my family made me feel really isolated, alone and hurting, and so to to have all of those things feel like the world was against me and that there was no safe spaces for me, to find a safe space in the choir room where it was, it was literally the place I went to escape the bullies, and then first I'm safe, and then I start feeling accepted and ultimately loved. When you start feeling safe to share your emotions and realize the bullies aren't coming into this space and the outside world isn't coming into this space that I could start to identify who I was. To a small degree, I feel like life is a whole lifelong journey of figuring that out, but I think that that was a really important moment for me to feel safe in the choir room and to be seen.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

So I asked Erin this personal question as well, and I want to ask you the same question. I think all of us artists have some kind of narrative or story where we said that, hey, this is where I belong. I'm a musician, or I'm a in the case of my daughter, I'm a theater nerd, or, you know, this is my place. So tell me about the story, about the story of your journey to belong, either musically or theatrically or both, and where and how did you find belonging?

Unknown:

Well, it's kind of hard to pinpoint for me, a starting point, because I do come from a musical family. I... my dad When I was born, was playing music, like in a cover band around town in Seattle, and my dad's dad, so my grandfather was a professional musician in the Philippines. So he was in a big band there, went to music school and handled a lot of the music in in their town in the Philippines. And so there's kind of a there's like this legendary narrative around my grandfather and his ties to music, and then also just the role that music played in our family before I was even born. So by the time I came into the picture, there was already a rich musical environment around me. And the story goes is that my dad would take me to the rehearsals that he would have, and some of his buddies noticed that I kept playing on the piano, and they encouraged him to... I'd be remiss to say my mom was also a piano player and accordion player. So, yeah, I think I was, in a way, some people are kind of born into religion, which I also was. I was born into Catholicism, but I there was a musicianship that was really prevalent, I think, in my family. So they got me into piano lessons very early on. I think I was four or five years old from little old church organist. And so I if I was gonna pinpoint some early moments of belonging, I would say, definitely, probably being at family parties where the ethos back then was was like, Hey, we don't necessarily need to put a record on we could, you know, jump on a organ or jump on the, you know, guitar and do our own music at this party or at This wedding or at this funeral. My grandparents sang sunrise, sunset at my parents wedding, accompanied by our family, or, I think in those, probably in those early piano lessons, I had a very warm, loving teacher who was probably one of the first white people that I had interactions with to a, you know, greater extent. So at that I'd spent some time with and built a relationship with with she was very open hearted and very open to some of the musical traditions that I was bringing to the table. I was pretty stubborn at that early point, about, like, playing a lot by ear, you know, I just kind of pretend that I was reading the notes, and she caught on to that very quickly, but still made sure that I was getting some foundations. So I think that private lesson situation was was a big moment of belonging for me is that she, she was like, Hey, I, you know, I, we don't come from the same musical background, but there's something that I know you want to do, and I want to support that.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

In acceptance and openness. Orlando's private teacher made space for difference, identity and agency. I asked Orlando about his journey to the Tacoma refugee choir and the acceptance and hospitality that opens thresholds of belonging. After looking at groups that were supported by the MJ Murdoch Charitable Trust Orlando, found his way to the Tacoma refugee choir,

Unknown:

and I noticed there was there a lot of groups on there, but I did notice one called the Tacoma refugee choir, which I never heard of before, and it sounded like an amazing group to even just just connect with, for for my work in the theater. So I connected with them. And of course, you know, Erin had this big heart, and was like, Hey, why don't you come to one of our rehearsals? We always need accompanist, or we always need, you know, a piano player would be really great. So I went there, and as I'm finding, is a typical story for folks who got involved with Tacoma refugee choir walked in the door and immediately welcomed in. Hi, how are you doing? Are you here to sing with us? Just just folks who were curious and warm. And I was like, No, I'm just actually here to play a little bit of piano. And so I did what, at the time was just a little gig, you know, I was helping them in the rehearsal, but also clocking at the time. You know, there's some kids running around. There are all sorts of different people. They were singing on that night, I think, in French and Vietnamese and, you know, in all kinds of different styles. And that just really affected me so thoroughly on that that first kind of, that first exposure to to what they do, I.[Moon song][Moon Song] For me, it was more like, hey, the the beginning, the foundations of the mission of this organization. Tacoma refugee choir is the community we're starting from the ground up, and it's being shaped by by the needs of the folks who have come together and not necessarily in service of a specific artistic tradition. That felt really liberating for me. It still does, and it's a little scary sometimes, because you're like, Well, what? What's the North Star artistically and kind of learning that North Star artistically doesn't necessarily look the same for this organization, and it looks more like something in the world of relationships and the change that we want To see in Tacoma. So all that said it was yeah, that that was a moment of belonging. Definitely, it definitely stuck with me. And I couldn't, at that point, couldn't imagine myself being involved with another project. And so just was really excited to jump in [Moon Song...]

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

What do you think is powerful about choral contexts in particular, if we talk about voice and belonging, and what those particular spaces open up?

Unknown:

Yeah, obviously, I think our voices are part of our body, so it's it's even more inextricably connected with identity than I think any other instrumentation, and that's not to say that that's not connected to identity, but it's very tangibly connected to the body and soul, I think, for both good and bad, right? So someone who is told that they don't have a good voice, I think it steals part of that identity and forces them to close off a part of who they are, because people don't want to acknowledge that part that someone might say is a bad part of who they are. But when we when we do feel like we can sing, I think you start to sing and you can feel you have a voice in a lot of different settings. So not only do I have a voice to sing, but I have a voice to speak up for myself when someone's trying to hurt me. I have a voice to speak up for myself when my interests are not being met. I have a voice to speak up for myself and for my community that may not be heard.[Moon Song]

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

In his conversations on the social psychology of belonging, Geoffrey Cohen names that an experience of unbelonging can also be powerful. Brief periods of quote, feeling out of place, challenge, limited world views and cultural norms become a practice of humility and vulnerability and open possibilities for unexpected hospitality. Geoffrey Cohen notes that travel is one activity where humans most naturally experience an unmooring of what it means to belong. Okay, so my next question is a bit of a risk, and we'll just see if it goes anywhere or not. But So you mentioned that you've been to Europe, and I know it's part of your educational program, but I also saw that you were traveling alone, and maybe we can also name that as we move later into the conversation about refugees, we we acknowledge like the privilege of what it is to be able to move in the world. But there is a sense when you travel of not belonging, and in some sense that that experience is a very rich experience. Because it really unmoors your sense of what normal is, and then the acts of hospitality that are received feel very radical in those moments. I mean, that's been my experience. I would love to hear some of your reflections, as you said about traveling in Europe,

Erin Guinup:

I think for me, I mean, I've traveled alone a couple of times now, and each time I've started these trips with so much anxiety. And what on earth am I thinking that I can do this? I and that's how it was true on this recent trip to Italy where I What was I thinking that I could travel alone for three weeks. And who am I to think that that I can survive this long, and I just had a lot of question marks. But because you're alone, I think a couple of things happen. One, I started listening to myself differently when, which was, I think, really important. I think you have to balance that, because I think you can listen to yourself too much and get into a circle, but I think I've been so busy of late that it was a gift to have this time to have conversation with myself. And then I think because you're alone, you're more open, or at least, I felt more open. So when someone did make a bid for my attention, they.. with a smile. I was so eager to respond with that bid for attention. And beautiful relationships started, whether it's sitting alone at a table and people invite me to eat dinner with them, or the man who just saw me sitting alone in mass, and he's like, Oh, here's the music. Do you want to sing? Do you sing? And yeah, I sing. He had no idea that I was a singer, but it was such a gift to be invited. And I think that that's because there's an openness when you are traveling alone. And absolutely it's such a privilege. It's a privilege I didn't know that I could have for much of my life. I didn't feel like I felt like it was too expensive or too... it was for other people. But I'm so grateful to have gotten to a point where I feel like I can do that as well.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

I think I would reflect back to you that when I last went to Azerbaijan, I had read Rick Steves article on travel as a political act, and I was playing with this idea about, like, what is travel as a peacebuilding act, especially knowing how much carbon that I would burn to get to Azerbaijan, and really wrestling with the ethical question of like, is, is it worth it for me to go there? And I decided to be worth it that I would establish this pen pal relationship with a person in Azerbaijan, and got there, and then he told me that he was going to pick me up at 5am the next morning, and it felt like a really risky scenario. And yet, this person, this family, picked me up at 5am the next morning and took me all over the caucus mountains in the most think one of the most beautiful days I've ever had, and the richness of the hospitality there very much unmoored me, at least it's not what I expect on a day to day basis. In my current life, I

Erin Guinup:

I had the same experience. I'm thinking, Why are you being so kind to me? And yet there was such an openness that that fed my soul in a deeply beautiful way to to feel like you're at home in a place that is not your home is an incredible gift, and I came back wanting to create those spaces In my own life, more at a deeper level

Unknown:

[music break],

Orlando Morales:

The voice is that instrument that you know most people have access to, right? You don't, you don't have to take out a loan to get one. You don't have to, like, you know, find some way to get this instrument and make the music, right? And so there's, there's only a handful of opportunities like that that we have in the Western tradition, right? And so there's that access point. On a more kind of metaphorical or philosophical note, its like when we start to put voices together, there's something that communicates to me about about the building of community, or the building of relationships, or the power of the human spirit to connect with other people. There is something that's subtextual there, I think no matter what you're singing, so we start to put the voices together, and there's something that communicates to us about this primordial human need, or our predilection to connect with others that, for me, is at the heart of choral ensembles and why we get together and we write these beautiful pieces of music For soprano, alto, tenor, bass, or, in non Western traditions, just the act of harmony or singing together. So there's something that I feel like is almost grammatical about it, like in the Chomskian sense, like there's something that, you know, we all have adjectives and verbs, you know, across languages, and then we all have some kind of singing together situation. And so there's something inherent in the act, and in that heritage and that, that human tradition that we have that's important but needs to be cultivated. Why the act of choral singing is important. I think it's a it connects us to this, this very primordial spirit. It reminds us of our humanity, and that part of the of our humanity that is social, that needs other people, and that helps other people.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Because of Orlando's experience in theater, our conversation turned to a broader dialog about the arts and how permeable boundaries of the arts are workshops of belonging, crafting senses of selves into multi faceted, interconnected selves through listening, performing and watching.

Orlando Morales:

There's something about that experience not being able to be captured in just one mode of art making. So it's like, yeah, we got, we do have drama. Drama. Drama is going along. But then we get to a point where it's like, oh, the human here on on stage, the character that's trying to be captured is bigger than just drama, so we have to break into a different art form. And even that just feels like a very western lens to put on it. It's like, if we look in other cultures, there's really no line, you know, between the singing, the drama and the singing and the dance. It's just all one thing. So it's kind of really interesting how, how, you know, in my, from my western point of view, there's these partitions, there's like, that's ballet, this is opera, this, but those don't exist elsewhere. But even with that lens, there is a power, I think, in acknowledging that humans are multifaceted. And so, you know, have this mode of storytelling that needs all the tools that we have, you know, available us to capture this human experience.

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

Research by Madeline Brewer has taught me that belonging is a delicate balance between an assimilated self and an individuated self. We need the arts to feel less alone, to feel the security and affirmations of an interconnected whole, and we need the arts to open stages and windows where we might perform our individuated stories and pay attention to the stories of others. The Arts allow us to play with the size of the self, making ourselves big on the stage and then smaller so we open new windows of perspective. This is the artistic work of belonging.

Orlando Morales:

The art there, to me, is like inherently inviting and does a kind of reflection back on people that already make you feel a part of something. And like less alone. I think, you know, it makes me feel less alone in my experience, feeling multifaceted and and me having a singer inside me or not, or, you know, a singing version of myself. And then just when we kind of take a step back and include the audience in a theater, theater experience, I'm borrowing from things I've read, but things that have really resonated with me, that you know, it is unique to ask people to kind of sit there for, let's say, 90 minutes, because I love a 90 minute show, at least 90 minutes, sometimes three hours, right? We're gonna ask you to sit there and, like, watch somebody else's story, right? And to pay attention. That's the invitation, and that's ask. So there's something remarkable and miraculous, one, in being... people being like, oh yes, okay, I will sit there and I will watch somebody else's story, right? Not my own, but somebody else's, and I will do it for 90 minutes, you know, politely, you know, you know. And that doesn't always happen that way, but that's that's the premise, right? And so we're sitting there for 90 minutes to three hours, and we're paying attention to somebody else's story. And I think it's Paul Woodruff, the academic, who says, like that's that's the basis of ethics, paying attention to somebody else's story, and some people frame it as empathy. I don't know if we always are successful in going that far. I definitely think that there's an opportunity to foster empathy and cultivate empathy. But for me, it's not even if you don't get that far right, just the act, the practice of sitting - Okay, I'm gonna come here, I'm gonna sit down, I'm gonna pay attention to something else, and we don't even have, like, if we could do that, you know, maybe watching a movie at home. But I think it's really common for us to actually have, like, our other screen, and we're scrolling while that's happening, so it's not even really happening there. Theater is special, I think, in this cultural moment, in that it's one of the few spaces where we really have to, like, okay, here we are, sit down. Maybe church is another one. But like, we're coming in, sitting down, paying attention to something else that's really important, and we're doing it together. So there's something important to me and necessary in terms of our society. Of like we need these opportunities to practice being the human beings that we want to be. And I want to live in a society where human beings make space to listen to other people and agree to do that as a group of people. I think that's really important

Kevin Shorner-Johnson:

In the necessity of theater. Paul Woodruff writes about the power of collective attention, framing, mimesis and critical, reflective imagination. He writes about the watching that takes place within theater. Quote, there is an art to watching and being watched, and that is one of the few arts which all human living depends. If we are unwatched, we diminish and we cannot be entirely as we wish to be. If we never stop to watch, we will know only how it feels to be us. Never how it might feel to be another. Watch too much or in the wrong way. We become frightened. Watching too much. We lose the capacity for action in our own lives. Watching well together and being watched well with limits on both sides, we grow and grow together. Our artistic spaces may be sites where we work our mattering and in turn, where we work out what it means to belong. The arts teach us that nuance matters, and in our subtle gestures of hospitality, we might act our way into more generous belonging. In part two of this podcast, we will dive deep into the Tacoma refugee choir, looking at its mission statement, collaborative spaces of music, empowering song, re-territorializing of space, and finally, the importance of language, choices, agency and story. This is the music and peace building podcast hosted by Kevin Shorner Johnson at Elizabethtown College. We host a master of music education with an emphasis in peacebuilding. Think. Deeply, we reclaim space for connection and care. Join us at music peacebuilding.com.