When President Barack Obama sang “Amazing Grace” last week during the eulogy for the Rev. Clementa Pinckney’s memorial, I got goosebumps. Sure, Bill Clinton played the saxophone on “The Arsenio Hall Show,” but this was different. There’s something so vulnerable about singing, particularly a capella. Obama’s song felt brave and raw and was such a moving tribute to the victims of the Charleston shooting that people were instantly on their feet, obviously surprised and enlivened by the sound of his baritone.
When terrible tragedies happen, especially in our own country, I’m torn between shielding my kids from harsh reality and informing them about the world. At ages 14 and 12, I think, they’re old enough to understand important events, and let’s face it: They’ll likely hear big news whether I want them to or not. I don’t believe in trying to gloss over the violence and racism in our nation, but I also don’t want them to see brutal images. Basically, I think it’s important to know about the events of the day and to try and make sense of them together. The problem is, most tragedies make no sense. How do you explain the killing of nine people in a church during Bible study?
You can’t. Not really. But you can show them their president singing at the funeral. You can be amazed together by the beauty of that moment.
This could have turned into a column on talking to our kids about the problem of gun violence, or about how to discuss tragedy with our children, but I really wanted to stick to the singing. That was an important moment, a gorgeous and uplifting moment, and it deserves more time.
Obama’s singing seemed so strange and new that it made me wonder if any other presidents had ever sung solo in public. I couldn’t find any evidence, though before the days of YouTube many things could have happened without our knowledge.
I did, find, however, information about the musical proclivities of other presidents. Thomas Jefferson played the cello, John Quincy Adams the flute, Abe Lincoln the violin. Franklin Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson both sang in choirs or glee clubs but I found no stories of them singing to the American public. Nixon played the piano and accordion. Calvin Coolidge and Ronald Reagan both played the harmonica. And, of course, there was Clinton’s famous saxophone.
None of these can really compare to Obama’s song last week. It was the unguarded tremor of his voice, the need during that eulogy for grace that made the moment powerful. It was his attempt to ease the sadness of the people at the funeral and the deep sorrow in America over senseless violent death that had affected so many viewers.
Last night, I asked both my kids for a reaction to Obama’s singing. We’d watched it together but I hadn’t really pressed them on what they thought. Lux said she thought it was amazing. Malcolm, on the other hand, wanted to know why I was making such a big deal about it. I told him because it was so surprising and unusual, then I asked, “Have you ever seen another president sing?”
He said, “I’m 14. Obama is the only president I even remember.”
Of course, he’s exactly right. And then I understood that much of the meaning of that song, for me, was in the context. I was comparing it with all the presidents who have come before Obama, and my experiences of their typically stoic demeanors in the face of tragedy, their unyielding voices. It was his willingness to breach that barrier of reserved self control, to burst forth with real emotion that affected me. There is great strength in a willingness to reveal yourself, particularly if the goal is to connect with other people. I hope that no matter readers’ political affiliations, they appreciated our president’s rendition of “Amazing Grace,” because our country really needed it.
Contact the writer: Twitter: @heatherskyler hskyler@ocregister.com heatherskyler.com
