by Steve Hanamura
In the fall of 1963 I left the familiarity of home in southern California and headed to the small town of McMinnville, OR to attend Linfield College. Every spring high school seniors spent a weekend on campus to see if Linfield would be their college of choice. On Friday night there was a talent show put on by Linfield students to entertain the visiting high school students, the faculty, staff and current members of the student body.
My freshman year I sang in the talent show with The Bourbon Flats Four. We sang two songs, “Railroad Bill” and “I’ve Been Driving on Bald Mountain.” As we were finishing Bald Mountain, the other three singers were holding their respective notes and I (as the bass singer) sang the final words “well I’ve done my time.” What made these final words memorable, were not the words but the note I hit – a low C, which is really, really low! To my surprise, everyone in the house erupted with applause, cheers and whistling.
For two weeks after the performance people stopped to congratulate me; apparently I was also the topic of conversation around campus. A few people asked why I wasn’t singing with the Acappella Choir (the premier choir on campus). “Because I didn’t get passed the audition.” That was surprising to many and a few people pressed me even more. I told them the reason I didn’t get in was because the director was afraid that I would be a burden to my choir mates on tour (taking me to the bathroom) and an imposition to host families when we would stay in their homes. Those few students began to query other people in the choir and I learned much later that twenty-five out of the forty students in the Acappella Choir went to the director on my behalf.
The next fall term when auditions rolled around again one of the students asked if I was going to stay in the college choir or try out for Acappella. Although the college choir never performed, I wanted the director to know that I could not only learn music, but maneuver through life’s mazes. I decided to try one more time and if Mr. Van said “no” there’s was nothing more I could do.
The day finally came for Acappella Choir auditions. I had been warming my voice up ready to sing. As I walked in Mr. Van greeted me and before I could say anything, he said “Hi Steve; you’re in.” “What? Don’t you need to listen to me?” “No, I know how you sing. Many choir members have come to me and said they’re willing to help you on tour. Furthermore they assured me that you get along just fine. Welcome to the choir.” I thanked him, left with a smile on my face, but still not trusting that he felt good about it. He let me in because students stepped up on my behalf.
What I learned from this experience is that prejudice can be overcome. Most people who experience discrimination know that sometimes it takes more than hard work to have our abilities taken seriously. I was capable of singing my freshman year but didn’t get in for a different reason. In subsequent years Mr. Van gave me voice lessons and asked me to sing two different solos with the choir; we became very good friends. This doesn’t always happen when a decision is overturned on behalf of the person who has been discriminated against so I felt very fortunate.
The implications for us in diversity and inclusion are to make sure that standards of excellence remain, that each individual is given ample opportunity to demonstrate their capabilities and when necessary to serve as advocates or allies if there is some kind of injustice occurring. People of color, women, and people with disabilities do not want to be thought of as “less than” but as competent and contributing members to the workforce.
