On Saturday I was slathered in sunblock in Washington, D.C., hat-covered and hoofing it for four miles in record-breaking 93-degree heat alongside my friends Mike and Ruthy and their two kids, pulling a wagon, lugging banjos, carrying handmade protest signs — and that was before we even got to the official gathering spots of the People’s Climate March (We mistakenly parked very far away).
Folksinger Sarah Lee Guthrie had already been in the thick of it for the entire sweltering day. Before the sun was even up, she and fellow singers, musicians, artists and activists from western Massachusetts had boarded a bus there at 4 a.m. to bring their songs and energy to the nation’s capital.
Their group is called The Hoping Machine, inspired by words from her grandfather, Woody Guthrie: “The note of hope is the only note that can help us or save us from falling to the bottom of the heap of evolution, because, largely, about all a human being is, anyway, is just a hoping machine.”
“Hope” could sound like something passive, but Guthrie is all about action. The Hoping Machine is a gathering of songwriters and activists that meets weekly in Great Barrington to create and update protest songs and brainstorm about strengthening community. One of their goals is to “generate hope.”
Guthrie and friends joined the Climate March equipped with signs, musical instruments and forward-moving optimism. They were there to sing, listen, be heard, and find some harmony.
My friends and I never did catch up to the main throng of 200,000 marchers, but early departers passed us with memorable signs — a stormy painting of Trump with pants aflame, chased by the words “Liar, Liar;” variations on “There Is No Plan[et] B;” a simple and affecting drawing of a big polar bear balancing on a little block of melting ice under capital letters: “HELP.”
We found Guthrie and The Hoping Machine around 4 p.m., at the edge of a park, the Washington Monument towering nearby. Guthrie’s voice was raw from hours of singing with her fellow marchers, at least one of whom I recognized from Northampton. One of Guthrie’s strumming fingers was wrapped with a frayed band-aid. Everyone was still on their feet despite hours of heat, marching, standing and singing.
Some sang from printouts of lyrics, others learned the words in the moment, some tapped on snare drums or tambourines or played travel-sized or homemade guitars, passersby stopped to join in.
The gathering was finally petering out when a connection was made with a group in purple t-shirts spread out on the grassy expanse nearby, members of the service workers union 32BJ SEIU from Pittsburgh. The Hoping Machine said hello with a song — Woody Guthrie’s “Union Maid” — then kicked into “This Land Is Your Land,” which inspired some do-si-do-ing, freestyle dancing and singing along by some of the 32BJ and their kids. The day ended with a united rendition of “We Shall Overcome.”
The Hoping Machine got home at 2 a.m., and after Guthrie had time to rest, she answered some questions about the day.
Clubland: You grew up in a family for which singing is a normal everyday thing to do, and also an empowering thing. But some people think of themselves as folks who “don’t sing,” and others might view protest singing as something “cheesy” or dated. Why is protest singing important to you?
Guthrie: I have to admit I may have thought that myself, like protest music didn’t really apply to me and my generation — at least not until now. A few major events recently changed this for me. The first was when Pete Seeger died. I never thought I’d find myself wanting to fill his shoes, but I felt I had a certain responsibility to carry on his legacy. I hope we all did! It hit me hard: who is going to advocate for the water and the planet through song like Pete did? It’s going to take everyone to fill those shoes.
Next was Bernie Sanders. I was asked to perform for some of his campaign rallies out in California. This changed my life. It was such an honor. I knew he was a fan of Woody and Pete so I brought forth some of the songs I felt were appropriate for these campaigns. This was the first time I really found myself in a position of singing for justice, equality, peace and hope. It gave me such purpose. I was empowered and, for the first time ever, hopeful that the government could actually serve me and the things I cared about.
The Womens’ March was the next time I felt that. I felt I had a place in this world that I could really contribute to. The optimism that I have is rare, and I felt I had to share it. I know now for sure that songs have the power to unite. Like a heartbeat, our breath and voices together make us one. When we feel like we are one, we have strength, courage, and hope. It’s the opposite of fear; it’s exactly what we need now. Songs have the power to heal the hopeless.
I had a very strong intention with this group. I didn’t call in all my professional singing friends; we are a group of regular people. Everyone has a voice and you don’t have to be good to be great! Before Pete’s legacy of getting everyone to sing along fades over time and generations, I want to make sure everyone feels what it’s like to join in the chorus. It’s also just fun!
Clubland: Describe that connection with the 32BJ SEIU group at the end of the day.
Guthrie: A member of our group, Sarah, said, “You should do ‘Union Maid.’” I turned around to see all of these people with the same shirts (coincidentally color-coordinated with our own logo banner) declaring fair pay, and immediately began the song: “Oh you can’t scare me, I’m sticking to the Union!” They knew this was for them and we began to engage. It was pretty amazing. We sang “This Land is Your Land,” then “We Shall Overcome.” Standing with these folks, who we later learned were a labor force from Pittsburgh, mostly African-American, and here we were, a bunch of mostly white folksingers from Western Massachusetts, and this little boy about 8 years old standing in front of me and singing along with his family and friends…that was the entire day and everything we had hoped for, all in that moment.
Sarah Lee Guthrie will bring her Hoping Machine Tour to the Parlor Room in Northampton on Friday, May 12 at 7 p.m.
