Finding refuge in music

Even the fog and rain couldn’t obscure the bright graffiti that covered the walls surrounding the small nightclub in Lisbon, Portugal. We shook off the cold rain and quickly warmed up as we moved through the pulsating crowd that tightly packed the venue. People from different nationalities, walks of life, and ages were gathered to listen to samba. More significantly, they were gathered under a bridge named after the political revolution in 1974, to listen to a musical style born of political resistance in Brazil.

As Renato da Rocinha strode into the middle of the samba wheel, bright smiles widened. The crowd sang along to his songs the entire night, hips gyrating and plastic beer cups sloshing. The atmosphere was exactly what was needed to temporarily sedate us against the executive orders that would punctuate the venomous inauguration on the following day.

For Renato, “Samba is more than a musical genre. Samba is religion, it's a philosophy of life.” He grew up in Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro, the most densely populated shanty town in Rio. He quoted another sambista, Arlindo Cruz, in describing his love of samba, “Samba is my guide, it's my bread and butter, my peace.”

As we enter a dark and challenging time in our democracy, finding ways to maintain our peace and finding a guide is more important than ever.

“Music and art have always been powerful tools in resisting oppression. They transcend language and cultural barriers, speaking directly to the heart and stirring emotion in ways that few other mediums can,” Antwonette Shade, artist and activist explained. “As people become overwhelmed by the scale of injustice and the slow pace of change, it’s easy to feel like their efforts don’t matter. This sense of disillusionment can fracture movements and weaken their impact.”

The remainder of the month of January has sowed seeds of confusion and fear, not only for refugee and immigrant communities, but for Americans whose livelihood has been impacted by the OMB pause in grants, political conditions tied to emergency natural disaster relief, and worries about what tariffs and deportations will do to our financial ability to feed our families.

Shade describes moving from disappointment in Trumps first term to devastation in his second. “In 2017, we were dealing with a bad president; today, we are grappling with the reality of authoritarian leadership. It no longer feels like a storm we can simply wait out — this feels like the dismantling of democracy as we know it.”

Blatant acts of authoritarianism have not ceased since Inauguration Day. The firing of inspector generals and special counsel prosecutors. Eliminating diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. Attacking the civil rights of transgender people and of those suspected of being “illegal” immigrants because of their language or color of their skin. Freeing hundreds of people who attacked our capital, some of them who killed police officers and threatened politicians. Removing security detail from former government officials. Incentivizing snitching on those who defy the DEI executive order. This list is not exhaustive, but it is exhausting.

Given the high stakes, we need to be calm, focused, and strategic in our response. Less effective reactions are performative outrage for companies that roll back their DEI programs and hyper focusing on the absurd renaming of gulfs and mountains. While frustrating, we need to keep our eyes on the prize, and if you are going to complain, put your money where your month is. Boycotts are a tool, but we need to think through the repercussions of boycotting entire stores. Some of those stores carry more products from traditionally marginalized communities than others. Blanket boycotts may cause disproportionate harm to those business owners, many of whom invest portions of their profits back into their communities. If you want to send a message, selectively buy products from their shelves, and spend your money on other essentials elsewhere.

There are other effective efforts we need to focus on. Beyond education on rights and combating misinformation, Shade says “we need to strengthen local networks of mutual aid and support, building communities that can sustain themselves independently of failing systems. Digital tools are valuable for mobilization, but we can’t rely solely on technology; face-to-face organizing and relationship-building remain critical.”

What we shouldn’t do is submit to bullying, remain silent, or get distracted by the shock and awe. “We’re going to do things that people will be shocked at,” Trump told us on Jan 21. We must keep faith. “Amid the devastation, there is a spark of hope — not in our government, but in ourselves. The power to resist and rebuild lies within the people, and hope is what fuels any resistance,” Shade told me.

Spending time abroad on Inauguration Day not only lent physical distance from chaos, but it provided perspective. Both Portugal and Brazil have emerged from their authoritarian regimes. We can, too.

Finding outlets is necessary to overcome despair and apathy, and to avoid burnout. Shade describes art and music as ways to unite and keep moving forward. “Art is a storyteller; it preserves history, amplifies voices, and reflects the realities of oppression while imagining new possibilities for liberation. It creates a shared cultural identity that unites people in the face of division. Whether through protest songs, murals, poetry, or film, music and art remind us of our shared humanity and our collective power to resist and rebuild.”

While some sambistas, such as Samba do Trabalhador, Candeia, and Paulino da Viola viewed samba as synonymous with politics, Renato told me that his goal is to bring joy to the masses. “I consider myself a seller of joy. That's why I try to sing sambas with positive messages, sambas that bring love and hope to the hearts of the people.”

Most samba is played in a circle, or “wheel.” The circle represents unity, a sense of community, and facilitates improvisation among the samba players. To Shade, community is key to resistance, “to resist authoritarianism, we must focus on grassroots organizing that prioritizes community engagement and collective action. This means creating coalitions that cut across race, class, gender, and geography to ensure a united front.”

As for Renato, “I hope that everyone who listens to my songs feels joy and peace.”

If you need some extra joy and peace, you can experience his music for yourself here.

Chris Espersen is a Gazette editorial fellow. chris.espersen@thegazette.com