Marian Anderson was shook. Easter Sunday, April 9, 1939, over 75,000 pairs of eyes and ears and the Lincoln Memorial stood her greatest spot. Her biggest swell of determination, coming from the 19 feet tall statue of Abraham Luncooln, a symbol of unity and equality. The moment was far larger than she was, but she knew her presence was capable of being louder.
Weeks and weeks prior, she wouldn’t have expected her moment. The daughters of the American revolution had denied her chance to perform at the constitutional Hall because of her race. But as large as her presence was, the news didn’t last too long before it reached Elanor roosevelt. Following the Roosevelt quote of “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams”, she didn’t stop there. Roosevelt worked with others to arrange the outdoor concert, and it was short till Anderson took back her granted spotlight.
“Sometimes, you cannot help but wonder,” she once said, “why God places such obstacles in our path. But if the pathway were smooth, perhaps we would not grow.” The sounds of the piano’s opening chord began to echo her into the moment. Across the National Mall, Marian closed her eyes and drew her strength to her talent -her rare voice. The rich contralto voice poured out “My country, ‘Tis of Thee”, exploring the range of rich vocals and tones calling for inclusion.
The crowd stood completely silent as her voice led the attention to the front. As her voice called by moving through the air, she resonated with millions to their hearts. As her call ended and her final note faded, the attention drifted to an eruption of applause. Marian stepped back, heart full of acceptance and rewarded applause, it became her biggest moment of art. It was not just the music, but her voice that demanded that art holds no color, just like humanity. Even till this day, the Lincoln Memorial remains a symbol of her courageous moment and the location for her voice to continue echoing for justice and equality. Her presence remained above the war-benefit concert, but spread amongst cities through her statues.
Located in Washington DC’s national portrait gallery and Philadelphia Orchestra, her Gold medal shines in contrast to her skin tone, representing it belonged to no specific shade.