DePreist’s star along Portland, Oregon’s Main Street Walk of Stars
James DePreist is on my mind again, thanks to a note from a long-time friend. DePreist was a world-renowned orchestra conductor, a survivor of polio contracted while conducting the Bangkok Symphony, and a nephew of his world-renowned Aunt Marian Anderson. He was born in Philadelphia in 1936.
DePreist died in 2013. You can read about his life in The New York Times obituary or on Wikipedia. At the time of his death, he had been conductor of the Oregon Symphony in Portland, Oregon since 1980. He had also written two volumes of poetry in his own free style.
Of all his poems, this one has challenged me most. Not just in the past, but today. Given our current situation regarding Black Lives, and Covid-19, it resonates loudly. A timely invitation to examine walls I’ve built, and deal with questions now “breeching my barricades.”
I’ve been weakened by the walls I’ve built,
of strength-drenched testing,
protected into an unprepared defense
Failing in my futile fortress to see
contentment’s numbing trap
must battle the questions now breeching
Poem written by James DePreist
©1986 and published by University of Portland Press in This Precipice Garden, p. 6
This is where I find myself today. Answerless. Not so much for my childhood upbringing in Georgia, but for my adult years when I thought I knew better.
While it’s true we never know how much good we’ve done, it’s also true we never know how much pain or damage we’ve inflicted. And then there’s always the question about now. What now? What next? How must I change, what will it cost, and what will I gain?
Thanks, as always, for visiting and reading. I pray you’re finding ways to deal with questions now breeching your barricades.
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 7 August 2020
Image found at en.wickipedia.org