Rest in Power, Mr. B

I met Harry Belafonte thanks to Pete Seeger.

Many of you already know this story, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. In November of 2013, I opened for Pete Seeger. That evening I met his grandson, we stayed in touch, and when Pete died a few months later, this grandson reached out to ask if I’d be involved in a festival celebrating both of his grandparents. In the summer of 2014, I found myself getting ready to go on stage at Lincoln Center Out of Doors, and bumping into Harry Belafonte back stage.

This meeting led to a series of other encounters, with the most exciting being an invitation by Mr. B himself to come and perform at his music festival Many Rivers to Cross, held in Georgia to promote voting rights and boost voter registration in advance of the 2016 presidential election.

The festival was amazing. The artist barn was one of the most random groupings of people containing Carlos Santana, Rosario Dawson, Dave Matthews, Danny Glover, Common - needless to say, I did not feel cool enough to be in that barn.

With that said - after the finale, which ended with a big sing-along including (you guessed it) “We Shall Overcome”, I made my way backstage and bumped into Mr. B himself. I figured that it had been a busy few days, and he would have no way of remembering who I was, so I was prepared to re-introduce myself. His daughter pulled me in his direction saying: “Dad, Kristen wants to say hello to you,” and without missing a beat he said: “Oh, It’s so nice to see you! How have you been? I haven’t seen you since Lincoln Center!”

We chatted for a few minutes about shows and plans, and he wanted to know about my new music, but I can remember thinking the entire time - “Harry Belafonte knows who I am, and Harry Belafonte cares about who I am!”

This man was the biggest star of that festival. Everyone from John Legend to Maxwell to Wanda Sykes wanted a chance to say hello to him, and he acted like it was just another day, just another chance to meet with some friends, and just another chance to celebrate humanity and fight for justice.

Of course, I’ll remember Mr. B’s contributions to the world. I think of him as a great model for the way that we should push ourselves to use our talents and make this world a better place. But I will most remember him as someone who was kind to an “unknown” folk singer, and saw her as someone worth spending time with. I appreciate so much when famous people remember that they are human too. And I think that he appreciated that all I wanted from him was a human chat - nothing more.

We stayed in touch after the festival, I signed on as an artist partner for his non-profit Sankofa.org, and I attended some meditation sessions that his family hosted over zoom during COVID, but that festival was the last time that I saw him.

The world will remember Harry Belafonte as an artist and an activist, and in addition I will remember him as a kind man who really cared.

Rest easy, Mr. B.

Article from Children's Hospital Campaign

This fall, I began a collaboration with HSHS St. Vincent’s Children’s Hospital in Green Bay, WI. They wanted to spread the word in the community about their NICU, and they asked if I would provide a song for their commercials. So - if you live in the area, chances are you’ve heard “I Will Be Here” once or twice on your local stations!

Anyway, when visiting to work with some of the kids in their programs, the hospital arranged for an interview in the local Green Bay newspaper - and I’ve included it here. The link is here, and the text is included below. I hope you enjoy!

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Green Bay folk singer Kristen Graves brings music to St. Vincent kids

Kendra Meinert, Green Bay Press-Gazette

October 11, 2022

Kristen Graves performed Sept. 30 for the HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital NICU Reunion Picnic at Green Isle Park in Allouez. The 2000 Southwest High School graduate lends her voice and her song, “I Will Be Here,” to a new campaign for the hospital. Courtesy of HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital

Southwest graduate Kristen Graves makes music all over the world, but her latest project back home in Green Bay is close to heart

Kristen Graves stepped away from social media when research for her doctorate in music took her to an open-air municipal dump in Oaxaca, Mexico, where she spends her days alongside workers picking out recyclables.

The break left her feeling much more in the moment — not a bad thing when it’s critical to be alert at all times so you don't get hit by a landfill bulldozer.

Then a few weeks ago, she started getting random emails and social media mentions from back home in Green Bay, some from people she hadn’t spoken to in 20 years or parents of friends from her days as a 2000 graduate of Southwest High School.

“Is this you?”

“I thought I recognized the voice but ...”

Ever since HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital began rolling out its new marketing campaign in early September, the music featured in the TV, radio and digital spots has been catching the ear of those who know Graves as an accomplished folk singer. The ethereal voice that accompanies images of young patients with hospital staff is hers, and so is the song, “I Will Be Here.”

Peace my child

Hope in each day

Love in your world

For you I pray

And I will be here

Yes, I will be here

She wrote those sweet lyrics 10 years ago, inspired by her work with children. She's been bringing music to schools for the better part of two decades, and her husband is the founder of Simply Smiles Inc., a nonprofit that serves vulnerable children by building villages of foster homes.

Not everyone was as fortunate to grow up the daughter of Fran and Ed Graves in Green Bay. “I Will Be Here” was for them.

“I feel like every kid should be raised by parents like mine, who are supportive, who love you, who think you’re the most talented person in the world,” Graves said. “Every kid deserves to have those parents, and not every kid has them, and so if they can have a theme song or something that says, ‘No, someone’s got my back,’ that was the intention behind writing the song.”

It moves people so that Graves has been repeatedly asked over the years if she will she sing it at their child’s baptism ... that is, one day when they become parents.

“That’s usually the response. ‘I’m not even pregnant yet, but will you please?’” Graves said.

When the St. Vincent marketing team began work on the ads to tout specifically designed care for children that’s close to home, “I Will Be Here” just seemed to fit. It was the idea of a colleague who had seen Graves perform at the Meyer Theatre years ago. The song had stuck with him.

“We’ve been working on this campaign for months, so you can imagine how many times we’ve heard it,” said Angela Deja, public relations manager for HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital. “It never fails, every time there’s tears, because it is such a beautiful song and speaks so beautifully to our message to our communities and our patients that we will always be here.”

For Graves, whose humanitarian work has taken her from Nicaragua to the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe Reservation in South Dakota, it was an easy decision to become involved.

“For a children’s hospital? Yeah, absolutely would I want to help with that,” she said. “I feel like there are only so many things that I can do as a musician to try and make people’s lives a little bit better, and any chance I get to do it, I try to take it, so this was just a no-brainer.”

Songs about Barbies, spaghetti, Disney princesses with patients at St. Vincent 

Graves, who spent nearly two weeks in Green Bay in late September, had just come from her second afternoon of singing and songwriting with St. Vincent patients when she sat down for an interview. The joy of the creative connection with the children was still very much evident in her voice and on her face.

She and the children had made up songs together about whatever popped up — cats, dogs, Barbies and spaghetti. Some couldn't wait to strum her guitar. Others were a little nervous. Some just wanted to sing songs they already knew from Disney movies, Lady Gaga or Olivia Rodrigo. Others were excited to start from scratch and write their own.

By the time they were done, a service dog that brought the added bonus of “floof” to the session had a song written just for him.

Graves was there to try to lighten the load for the kids, many of them long-term patients, whether for a few minutes or an hour. Music as medicine.

For all the songwriting territory they covered, one topic never came up: the treatments they were receiving while they sang. On that afternoon, time flew instead of crawled. Children received attention just for being themselves, not for being sick.

“Treatment for some of the things these kids are going through is really uncomfortable, and it’s long and it’s hard and it’s boring. So by the end of the session, you’ve got this song and you have this empowered kid who just came up with this idea and now sees it put to paper and recorded and put to a melody and that’s a really cool feeling,” she said. “I think everybody who witnesses it, from the parents to staff, are like, ‘Look at you!’ They’re so impressed.”

Folk singer Kristen Graves and 7-year-old Ivy write songs together during Ivy’s follow-up visit in September to the HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital pediatric hematology and oncology clinic. Courtesy of HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital.

From playing her parents' piano to performing with famous folk artists

Graves’ path to music started with her parents’ piano. She had an interest in it from the time she was a toddler and eventually took classical lessons. The confidence to sing (or even talk) in front of people, however, didn’t come until ninth grade. She wanted to audition for choir that year, but when it came time to perform, she physically couldn’t do it.

Her choir teacher, Kent Paulsen, reassured her and told her to just turn around and sing to the wall instead.

“When I turned back around he had this expression on his face that let me know I had done a good job,” she said. “I can still remember that exact moment.”

She was in high school during the Lilith Fair era of the ’90s, and she quickly felt the pull of female artists like Jewel, Sarah McLachlan and Sheryl Crow who got up onstage with just a guitar or a piano.

“I could do that,” she said.

While studying at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota, Graves embraced the storyteller role that came with songwriting and began booking shows and playing live.

She has toured near and far, often playing as many as 200 shows a year and sharing stages with such acts as Rusted Root, Harry Belafonte and Dar Williams. Folk music heroes Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul & Mary have been mentors to her and told her great stories of the genre's revival in the 1960s.

She was among the performers Pete Seeger’s grandson, Kitama Cahill-Jackson, tapped to play Seeger Fest in 2014 to honor the late folk icon. He told The New York Times the lineup was “the new generation of folk singers.”

In 2015, there was her name in Rolling Stone as one of 24 artists who contributed a track to “Buy This Fracking Album,” a double CD in support of the anti-fracking movement that also featured Bonnie Raitt, Indigo Girls and Steve Earle.

In Connecticut, which has been the closest thing she's had to a home base the last 18 years, she was named Connecticut State Troubadour from 2013 to 2015, an honorary position as ambassador of music, song and cultural literacy.

But for all those accomplishments, music is only one half of what drives Graves. From the first time she volunteered at a children’s home in Mexico as a college student, her humanitarianism has always been intertwined in her songs.

“I’ve never really known music without service or service without music,” she said.

She mentions the famous quote from Fred Rogers, who said when he was a boy and saw scary things in the news, his mother would tell him to look for the helpers, because you will always find people who are helping. On days when the injustices of the world make it hard for Graves to watch the news, she thinks of that.

“Anytime I start to get overwhelmed, I realize if I’m not finding a helper then I need to go be the helper,” she said. “I don’t know if that’s in my DNA or if it’s how I was brought up. I think it’s probably a combination of both.”

Children dance at Green Isle Park in Allouez while folk singer Kristen Graves, a 2000 Southwest High School graduate, performs at a picnic celebrating 50 years of the HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital NICU. Courtesy of HSHS St. Vincent Children’s Hospital.

Making music and a difference in a Mexico dump; the joys of visits home

Graves had just finished the first six months of her Ph.D. program through the University of Toronto when the pandemic wiped out all of her gigs overnight. As COVID-19 continued to interrupt live entertainment and her busy traveling schedule, she focused more on her studies.

As part of her doctorate in ethnomusicology, the study of music in its social and cultural contexts, she’s particularly interested in everyday sound and how people use it in daily life. By working at the Mexican dump with the organized union of workers there, she can see how not just sight, but sound, is crucial to sort out materials that can be reused, recycled or resold to make money. Objects like plastic bottles, aluminum cans, tin cans, glass and cardboard.

She’s had to learn how to “listen with my feet.” As she walks through the trash, she can hear and feel the plastic beneath her. The workers are so skilled that when trash is falling from a garbage truck, they can hear if a black bag has plastic in it. Graves is still working on mastering that one, but she’s learning.

She hopes her work there will draw attention to the front-line recyclers who are helping to protect the environment. She wants their jobs to be less stigmatized and more respected.

“It’s been really good work. It’s very hard. It’s very hot, and it’s very exhausting,” she said. “And it’s a dump so it’s not a great-smelling place, and there are vultures.”

There’s also music. Graves sees to that. She and the workers often sing. They’re working together on creating a song in a Mexican folk style that tells the story of their last 40 years as a union.

Graves flew back to Mexico when she left Green Bay earlier this month and will remain there through the end of the year. In January, she’ll move to Toronto for her doctorate. She knows a big dose of winter awaits her there.

When she comes home to Wisconsin to see her parents, who now live near Dyckesville, she makes a point to do it during warmer weather months when there can be grilling or water sports. Mostly, though, she’s just happy to spend time with them.

There are three things she can count on when she visits: a trip or two to Culver’s, any and all activity in the house coming to a complete halt when the Packers game is on and an offer by her mom to send her off shopping with plenty of Kohl’s Cash.

Even for a globe-trotting musician and activist like Graves, there’s still no place like home.

A reminder: Just Be Nice!

If you go to kristengraves.com, you’ll find all the standard artist content, including music, photos and merch, but there’s also a tab for “Just Be Nice!” That’s the name of the faux political party Kristen Graves created to encourage people to step up and help make the world a better place. It’s how she’s always tried to live her own life.

“We just need more compassion kindness, understanding, generosity in this world,” she says. “In this time period that we are all living through right now, which has become so divisive, so angry, I just feel like if we can just start with seeing each other as human beings it would be just a great, great thing.”

Contact Kendra Meinert at 920-431-8347 or kmeinert@greenbay.gannett.com. Follow her on Twitter @KendraMeinert. 

Latest newsletter

Here is the link to my latest newsletter. (Or if you want to copy and paste: https://mailchi.mp/kristengraves/may-is-for-keeping-hope-alive)

If you are not subscribed, you can still read it by coming here. I can’t guarantee that I’ll remember to post every newsletter here (I usually write about once each month), but my intention is to do so. I know that all of our inboxes are jam-packed with email, so I don’t want to add to clutter, but I’m torn, because I do want to keep you updated. So it feels like this might be a good way to still do that.

Happy reading, I hope that you enjoy the news, and I hope that you have a great day!

Kristen

I’ll talk more about this photo in our next post - but doesn’t that sky just make you so happy?!

Taking a moment...

As the tagline in the listing above says…this blog is a few things about music, and a lot of things about my dog. Sadly, it’s been a little over a month since my dog Chip died. I’ve been thinking a lot about why this has been so incredibly sad - besides the obvious things like: he was a member of the family, he was always happy to see me, etc.

When I think about it more, I realize, a relationship with a dog (or pet - I just have experience with dogs) is so incredibly pure. The many times each day that I would tell him I loved him, or call him a good boy, or tell him he was so handsome, or he would give me some tail wags, or follow me from room to room, or sit next to me just so he could be touching me with his nose - we were just in a consistent state of loving reminders: he always wanted me to know that he loved me, and I wanted him to know the same thing. So pure. So genuine.

This was the cute face waiting to greet me each morning.

So of course, I’ve been incredibly sad. I actually couldn’t stop crying for awhile, and I thought I was getting a little over the top until I concluded that this dog deserved to be cried over. He deserves me mourning him. He deserves the many messages, texts, emails, and condolence cards that I’ve received, because he was just good. And when we lose something good, it should be acknowledged honestly.

There are many lessons to learn from our pets, but one of the greatest lessons that Chip taught me was to enjoy the moment. Take an extra breath, wander and explore, celebrate things that you love (in his case: sticks, the beach, rocks, and visitors), and move at your own pace - the pace that feels right for that moment.

A few weeks ago, I was in Connecticut, and spent some beautiful spring days on a trail near our house. It happened to be one of Chip’s favorite spots as well, so it served as a way to feel like I was still kind of spending some time with him. It brought me some comfort. I took a picture so that I could remember the moment, and actually took a short recording so that I could challenge myself to listen to the birds, feel the breeze, and breathe deeply.

One of our favorite spots to explore together.

Eventually I’ll think about Chip without crying. Someday I’ll be able to just tell the funny stories and laugh at this goofy good boy. For now, I still get choked up, and that’s ok - like I said, he deserves it.

If you’d like to hear what this picture sounded like, you can listen to the recording here. It’s 18 seconds long, enough time for a breath or two.

Stay tuned for some thoughts on hope, a new version of my old song Keep Hope Alive, as well as upcoming travels. And enjoy the little shifts coming to my website bit by bit - some of these photos and designs need a little upgrade, so more changes are on the way!

Why can't we leave people alone?

Well, it’s been nearly a week since I posted my new song Ms. Biles on social media, and - pun intended - it struck a bit of a chord. In case you haven’t seen it (or just want to watch it again) here’s the song:

I’ve just been thinking a lot over the past while - what is it that makes us feel the need to constantly weigh in? Why do we feel the need to insert ourselves into other people’s business? Of course, there is more to this than just someone offering unsolicited opinions. Those are just the initial questions that I have.

People offer advice to one another all of the time. Fine. If that’s the relationship that you have with the person. If you know them. If they know you. If they understand your intentions.

What business is it of mine to insert myself into their day otherwise? And who am I more likely to approach? What is it about how I perceive someone that makes me more willing to make a comment, or offer advice, or share my unsolicited (potentially critical) opinion?

Does it have to do with age?

Gender?

Race?

Ability?

Economic status?

I’ve just been thinking about this lately - and I wanted to toss the question out into the world. If a person is doing something in a way that you wouldn’t, but it impacts you NOT AT ALL, do you say something? And are there certain people that you’re more willing to approach than others?

I’m not intending for these questions to come across as accusatory, I’m genuinely curious. And I think this is something that we should think about - collectively - because, in general, I think accepting that others may think/do/act differently than we do is a great thing. It expands our outlook, it pushes us to ask questions of ourselves, it helps us to think critically.

There are a lot of versions of this quote circulating in the world, but this week with everyone weighing in on a young woman’s decision to listen to her body, mind, and spirit (so many layers to that, but I digress), I’ve been repeatedly coming back to the quote: “Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind? Is it true? Is it necessary?” I would add to that: “Does it need to come from me?”

I’m sorry that I can’t really offer any answers to all of the questions that I’m posing, but perhaps that’s better. Perhaps there’s a beauty in the question, a power in thinking through the uncertain, and a freedom in reflection.

Wishing you a happy day, *free* from unsolicited criticism!