Angelica Hairston is the Artistic Director of the Urban Youth Harp Ensemble. When she’s not teaching over 80 students, she enjoys cooking, taking power naps, and making impulse buys on Amazon.

The world around us is so intense. We’re constantly bombarded with news of violence, inequality, and tragedy. As difficult global conversations unfold, it’s only right that we situate art and artists within the fight for social justice. Art is a powerful weapon for social change. Through music we learn compassion, empathy, resilience, and creativity. We practice respectful communication and work towards a common goal in light of our differences. What if every human valued these skills? How would we treat one another? Imagine how different our world would look.

My story

I never considered myself an advocate for social justice, after all, I am just a musician. But I came to grasp the power the arts can have, and I grew to understand that change happens with intentionality and a good dose of courage.

As a young African-American harpist, I remember the excitement of Saturday mornings as I dashed off to youth orchestra rehearsals. Though captivated by the thrilling repertoire, I would often notice how much I stood out while sitting among my colleagues. I was swimming in a sea of 200 musicians with only a handful of complexions resembling my own. I could say the same for the racial demographics of the audiences that filled the seats of the halls in which we performed. According to a 2016 report on racial and ethnic diversity conducted by the League of American Orchestras, only 2.5 percent of orchestral musicians are Latino and just 1.8 percent are African-American. I quickly realized that the classical music field would be an often isolating and complex space to navigate as a woman of color. It wasn’t until years later when I met Ann Hobson Pilot, the first African-American female to hold a principal position in a major symphony orchestra, that I understood it was possible to pursue a classical music career on the biggest of stages. Her presence in the field helped me know that I was not alone.

During my undergraduate studies at the Royal Conservatory in Toronto, I found myself grappling with the heightening racial tensions in the U.S. as the cases of Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, and Eric Garner captured national headlines. The painful divides of my country were in the spotlight, and I was sitting in a practice room feeling helpless to say the least. As a person who deeply cared for the classical music community and the minority community, I knew that I held a unique perspective within the context of the arts and of the nation.

As I began my graduate studies at Northeastern University, I decided it was time for me to put my passion to work. In 2015, I founded Challenge the Stats (CTS), a project dedicated to empowering and showcasing high-caliber artists of color and sparking discussion about diversity, inclusion, and equity both on and off the concert stage.

The inaugural Boston-based CTS concert promoted artists of color across genres, performing for a mixed audience of classical music aficionados and first-time attendees alike. I had a blast playing alongside harpists Mason Morton and Charles Overton as we featured Maurice Draughn’s composition, Musical Branches. In addition to the concert, the #challengethestats hashtag became the center of social media discussions on equity and inclusion in artistic spaces.

Through a grant from the NPR radio show From the Top, the next CTS concert is scheduled for February in my hometown of Atlanta. I’m thrilled to feature artists from across the state of Georgia, and I look forward to playing with harpist Mallory McHenry, previewing a new work by harpist and composer Maurice Draughn, and highlighting the work of the Urban Youth Harp Ensemble (UYHE). I’m most excited about a world-premiere composition for harp and tenor by Jamaican-American composer Joel Thompson, which has been made possible through a grant from the American Harp Society. The text for the piece is based on the poetry of current inmates in the United States criminal justice system and will allow us as an arts audience to reflect on the realities of mass incarceration in the U.S.

I used to believe that an “advocate” was a term reserved for those who marched in civil rights rallies or lobbied in government spaces, but over time I’ve come to better understand the definition of advocacy—one who pleads the cause of another. Through CTS, artists present a model of society where members work together toward a common goal and ultimately strive for excellence as a team. Not only am I pleading the case of talented artists traditionally underrepresented in our field, I stand firm knowing that when we are brave enough to have necessary conversations about injustice in our field and in our world, we work towards tangible solutions that create a better future inside the concert hall and beyond.

How to take action

What would it look like for you to step up? Your advocacy journey won’t look exactly like mine, but it could easily start with small, tangible steps. Take a look at your repertoire. Are the composers of the works you perform from diverse backgrounds, genders, and geography? What are the cultural, socioeconomic, and age demographics of your community? Do your current audiences reflect that? If not, I encourage you to take an intentional step and add a few new pieces to your repertoire or try collaborating with a different group or venue in your community.

Though our instrument is perceived as quiet, it is one that we can use to have a loud voice against injustice. Even if your advocacy begins as a whisper, resist the urge to stay silent. As you reflect on where you are in your journey towards advocacy, remember that making a difference takes intentionality, stepping into the unknown, and sometimes being a little uncomfortable in the learning process. As we all work to create platforms that collectively lift diverse points of view, backgrounds, and identities, let’s celebrate the complexity of every individual and strive towards a future of unity without uniformity.