Discovering The Vaccine For The “Cultural Appropriation” Mind Virus

 

When I was first working on Huapango de los Muertos, I was plagued with a nagging thought—not a fully-formed idea, mind you, but an impression left by a phrase that I kept imagining could delegitimize my work and artistic integrity.

It was 2019, during the height of woke culture, and phrases like “cultural appropriation” were circulating among the public consciousness.

We even saw major brands capitulate to the rhetoric, with the likes of Land O’Lakes and Mrs. Butterworth’s removing any reference to non-white culture after criticisms of “cultural appropriation” and racism. (Ironic that erasing those icons can, itself, be perceived as an act of racism!)

“Cultural Appropriation” was understood as any borrowing of a culture not your own.

Being a white dude, part of me couldn’t help but wonder, in the context of this national debate (or more correctly, vitriol), if it would be “cultural appropriation” for me to use Mexican musical sources in my music.

Am I “allowed” to do so as a gringo?

Never mind I grew up in San Antonio with its predominantly Mexican culture. I lived in Los Angeles for 11 years, and had a Mexican girlfriend for most of that time. I even lived in Mexico for five years, and I'm married to a Mexican national. I regularly travel to Mexico. I speak fluent Spanish. At this point, I might as well be half-Mexican!

Except I’m not. I’m white. And to many people, that fact alone is “problematic.”

Eventually, I had to take time to sit down and think this through rather than let these nagging impressions cast doubt on my creative work.

If I allowed myself—through my own “self-censuring” mechanism rather than any actual controversy—to NOT compose the piece that wanted to be composed, where does it stop?

Am I not allowed to be inspired by jazz, either, since it was created and largely developed by black musicians? I mean, I grew up listening to jazz music. As a trumpet player, I learned the standards, and have worked as a professional jazz musician. The U.S. had three decades where jazz heavily influenced the dominant popular music, and I’m an American.

But I am white, after all.

What about the classical tradition? Sure, I’m white, but I’m not German. Or Austrian. Or French, or Russian, or Italian. Am I limited to just being influenced by English and Irish music, which is my ancestral heritage?

But could I even use those influences since I’m actually American, and have never even been to England or Ireland (other than a plane transfer in Heathrow)?

Where do I draw the line? Perhaps I should just not risk it and create nothing.

This is simply the natural extension of the idea, reaching its logical conclusion of being locked in a mental and creative cage.

The idea that artists aren’t allowed to be inspired by things outside their culture is both ridiculous and totalitarian. The whole idea is anathema to creative people.

None of us want to be put into a creative straight-jacket, and be policed on what we’re “allowed” to explore and incorporate into our work.

How can I tell my mind and soul, “Hey don’t be inspired by that. You have a different skin color than the ones who created it.”

The truth is, the history of music has continually generated new musical styles and genres and works of art through the fusion of two or more musical styles and cultures, because the artists were inspired to create.

Jazz was birthed not just from the influence of slave songs and ragtime, but from the European classical tradition and the brass band. Should black jazz musicians not have been allowed to use the white European influence to create jazz?

Art knows no boundaries.

There are no hard divisions between different musical styles. Every style has been influenced by a plethora of others. It’s not like crossing the border from one country into another. Even then, anyone who lives close to a border knows that it’s often arbitrary, and doesn’t cleanly divide one race from another. One culture usually doesn’t suddenly stop at the border, with another entirely alien one existing on the other side.

That whole ides is what my Fronteras is about: exploring and dancing in those frontiers between musical styles and cultures.

Why not take the opposite philosophy? Why should it not be considered extremely flattering, and a great compliment, that someone from another culture found an element of a foreign culture so interesting and inspiring, they created a work of art in response to it?

For that reason, I will make no apologies for “cultural appropriation.” As an artist, I’m inspired by what I’m inspired by.

Even if I were to write a Japanese-themed piece, for example, having no connection to Japan other than finding it interesting, it would be ridiculous to call it “cultural appropriation.” It would be entirely authentic for me to write that piece if I felt inspired to do so.

Authenticity isn’t about sticking to your own culture, it’s about aligning your outward actions with your inner values. And as a patriotic American, one of my most important inner values is freedom, including artistic freedom.

Freedom to be and feel inspired by whatever I feel inspired by… and to create what I want to create.

THAT is authenticity.

So let’s bury the divisive and creatively destructive mind virus of “cultural appropriation.”

We are human beings. One species. With the same Infinite Creator.

Sure, we look different. Have different religions. Nationalities. Cultures. Ideologies. Etc. But none of that is as important as the simple, unifying fact we’re all human.

And there is one thing I know about humans who create things: none of us exist in a vacuum, and we are inspired by all kinds of things, especially things outside our ordinary experience and background.

Inspiration knows no borders or boundaries. And because of that, we have the wonderfully diverse, and continually evolving, world of music we have today.