Charles Streeter presides over the Memphis Hang Suite (Credit: Tae Nichol)
The Memphis Hang Suite is the brainchild of Charles Streeter, a native Memphian who experienced phenomenal jam sessions with A-list players when he lived in Los Angeles. Now relocated back in his hometown, he’s created a similar scene at Hernando’s Hide-a-Way. On any given Tuesday, you might hear Streeter and the Tribe jamming with the likes of MonoNeon, Jackie Clark, Stanley Randolph, Marcus Scott (who sang with Tower of Power for a time), and many others. “Everybody comes through,” says Streeter. “It’s a really cool hang. No egos. Nobody up there is trying to play all over the place. You still have to play the song. Just be tasteful, be an adult when you’re playing.” And thanks to the good folks at Hernando’s Hide-a-Way, you can watch it all go down through the miracle of the internet, staying safe from a pandemic that still rears its ugly head.
ALL TIMES CDT
Thursday, May 12 6 p.m. SweetNur — at Hernando’s Hide-A-Way Website
8 p.m. Jackie Straw and Noah G. Fowler — at Hernando’s Hide-A-Way Website
Memphis business leaders hope to re-ignite the urgency for a new bridge — a third bridge — across the Mississippi River in a project they’re calling America’s River Crossing.
The Greater Memphis Chamber hosted a call with business leaders, politicians, and transportation leaders from Tennessee and Arkansas Wednesday to make their case for the need of a new bridge. The crossing at Memphis is now served by two bridges, the Hernando De Soto Bridge on the north and the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge on the south. The importance of the crossing (and the need for a new bridge) was demonstrated last year, the group said, when the Hernando De Soto Bridge was closed for months after a crack in the structure was discovered.
Credit: Greater Memphis Chamber
The “new” bridge closure pushed all I-40 traffic (estimated to be around 40,000 vehicles daily) to the 73-year-old Memphis-Arkansas Bridge. Transportation experts on the call Wednesday said that bridge is structurally sound and the added traffic did not shorten its life. But the closure did snarl traffic for miles creating hours-long delays in road routes that once took minutes.
“We found out last year that within days of the closure, the movement of people was impacted across the United States and within a week, movement of freight was impacted across the world,” said James Collins, a member of the Chamber’s transportation committee and a principal at Kimley-Horn, a Memphis planning and design firm. “So, this is a definitely a project of national significance.”
West Memphis Mayor Marco McClendon said the closure clogged his city with 18-wheelers using neighborhood streets to bypass traffic. Children couldn’t play in their yards. Road-rage shootings stressed an already stressed police force. Curbs, gutters, and more were damaged and destroyed. But, he said, “God covered West Memphis.”
“If that didn’t do anything else, it underscored how critical the need for a third bridge is to our nation’s supply chain, critical military, and the ability of tourists to move north to south and east to west in our area,” McClendon said. “I’m glad we have learned that a year ago but I look forward to continuing with the progress to ensure our bridges stay functional and keeping the sound of a third bridge into the ears of those who make the decisions.”
CredIt: Tennessee Department of Transportation
That sound rang loudly for weeks last summer as crews worked to repair the bridge. Opinion pieces were published in the daily newspapers and the issue was debated at length on social media, although much of the volume turned down as the bridge re-opened.
The idea sounded far-fetched to some. But the idea has been studied before, many times before. Collins cited the 2006 Mississippi River crossing feasibility and location study. A 2009 regional infrastructure plan by the Chamber included a third bridge in its recommendations. The Southern Gateway plan once again looked at a new bridge here in 2010 but the plan was put on hold indefinitely in 2014.
Those studies sited a new bridge at the Mississippi/Tennessee border, and at the Pidgeon Industrial Park, at the north loop of I-240. Another study suggested simply replacing the I-55 bridge with a new one.
Credit: Greater Memphis Chamber
“People have short memories and the bridge closing is in the rear-view mirror, no pun intended” said Bill Dunavant, CEO of Dunavant Enterprises, a cotton merchant with divisions dedicated to logistics and development. “But when you look at a crisis, it creates an opportunity.”
That opportunity is that third bridge, he said. While the bridge project would likely take years to begin (after environmental studies, finding a new location, designing the new bridge, and getting a host of federal approvals), the time to begin funding the project is now, the group said.
“This is a bridge of national significance and one of the most critical crossings in America, as it relates to freight transportation and logistics at the city that is the most critical in the hemisphere or the world for transportation — America’s River Crossing,” said Bobby White, the chamber’s chief public policy officer. “We want to demonstrate the support of the business community in this effort — not to say one [bridge site] or the other — but for our need for starting this project and moving it forward.”
Tamra "Chef Tam" Patterson (right), who was honored by Memphis City Council, was a lead chef at the Miami Grand Prix Formula One.
Tamra “Chef Tam” Patterson, owner of Chef Tam’s Underground Cafe, was given a resolution for her accomplishments from the Memphis City Council on May 10th at Memphis City Hall.
“It’s really nice to receive an honor in the city,” Patterson says. “Especially not being a native authentically of the city. It’s really cool to see the city taking notice of the hard work I put in to bring good press and amazing food to the city.”
Patterson, who is from Ft. Worth, Texas, moved to Memphis seven years ago. She also opened a Chef Tam’s Underground Express in Arlington, Texas. And she opened her food truck, Smoke and Ice, in April.
The accomplishments listed in the resolution are staggering. The resolution lists eight “Whereas-es.” Among them are her first-place wins on Food Network’s Chopped and Oprah Winfrey Network (OWN)’s Great American Cookout, for her “soul food recipes,” including fried mac and cheese and shrimp and cheddar grits; launching a line of cookware and a collection of juices; and opening her second restaurant in Arlington.
And, referring to her win on the April 5th episode of Chopped, the resolution states, “WHEREAS to appease the judges’ palates even more, Tamra “Chef Tam” Patterson created the Stuffed French Toast BLT stuffed with strawberry and tomato puree, lettuce, whipped cream, and candied bacon.”
The resolution was signed by chairwoman Jamita E. Swearengen, Memphis City Council, District 4.
The amazingly energetic Patterson made it to City Hall the day after getting back from working as a lead chef at the 2022 Miami Grand Prix Formula One motor race, which was held May 8th at Miami International Autodrome in Miami Gardens, Florida. Formula One races are “normally out of the country. This is Miami’s first time hosting it.
“I was invited down to be one of the lead chefs of their VIP lounges. They had 10 VIP lounges,” Patterson says. “Everyone from JPMorgan Chase to Mercedes-Benz to McLaren to Ferrari. It was myself and 20 other lead chefs. We had a team of 80 to 90 cooks, and we just cooked our toes off. Literally. We were crying our feet hurt so bad.”
They were “cooking” in every sense of the word during the weekend event, which featured races for three days beginning May 6th. “We went to bed at 1:30 in the morning and had to be back to meet the shuttle at 5 a.m.”
They were cooking for 5,500 people a day, Patterson says. “It was three days. But we fed them breakfast. Then we fed them lunch. Then they had something called a ‘Soak Up’ where we just gave them greasy food to soak up all the alcohol they drank all day.”
The VIP lounges hosted celebrities as well as GOAT (Greatest of All Time) athletes, including Michael Jordan, Dwyane Wade, Serena Williams, Tom Brady, and David Beckham. “It was superstar-studded.”
And, she says, “There were only a handful of African-American chefs, and we cooked for the world’s wealthiest people. And that was an amazing experience.”
They prepared a range of food, including croissant sandwiches, sushi, sashimi, watermelon and feta salad, mustard pork loin, skirt steak, filet mignon, and lamb. “We were all in the kitchen at the same time. It was about a 15,000-square-foot commissary we cooked in.”
And they “kept cooking until they cleared the entire menu.”
They cooked during the event, but, Patterson says, “We got there at the end of April, and we started prepping as soon as the kitchen was set up.”
That included everything from cleaning lamb to shucking oysters. But once they got “near the actual race,” she says, “It was a 24-hour operation for three days straight. The other days were between 12- and 16-hour days. All the rest of the day I was icing my knees and taking my leave.”
For her cooking, Patterson, who personally did the lobster mac and cheese, quinoa salad, truffle mashed potatoes, and German potato salad, got “great feedback and everybody loved it.”
It sounds like a cooking marathon, but, Patterson says the event was not “the most tedious” time she’s spent in a kitchen. “We actually cooked for 3,500 at Chef Tam’s. And we did it with less than 20 people.”
Patterson returned to Memphis late Monday. “I was back in the kitchen the next day.”
And, she says she has to head to her Texas location at 3 a.m. May 12th.
So, what’s next for Patterson? “What’s next for me is a vacation,” she says. “I need somebody who loves me to take me somewhere I don’t have to be Chef Tam. I can be asleep.”
Laughter was heard in the background. It was Patterson’s husband, Nicholas Patterson, who’s probably going to be that “somebody” who’s going to give her that well-earned vacation.
Barbecue sushi from Poke Paradise (Photo: Jimmy “Sushi Jimmi” Sinh)
If you’re a Memphis chef, chances are you’ve thought about creating some kind of barbecue. Or maybe you already have.
But what would be your “signature” barbecue? Even if the idea is still in your imagination?
Tamra Patterson, chef/owner of Chef Tam’s Underground Cafe: “If Chef Tam created her style of barbecue/meat, it would be barbecue catfish stuffed with a barbecue jambalaya. No matter what I cook, I always have to infuse my love of Cajun food and Cajun culture.”
Jonathan Magallanes, chef/owner of Las Tortugas: “My style would be twice-cooked for an extra texture. First, braised like carnitas with whole orange, bay leaf, lard, lime, and green chile. Then flash-fried in peanut oil. At Tops Bar-B-Q, I ask for extra dark meat on the sandwich. That bark and meat crust is divine. Then I would use a chipotle salsa. Pork is braised in a huge copper kettle. Chipotle, cilantro, lime, and onion for garnish. I like to do the whole rack of ribs this way, or shoulder. Crispy pork is the best pork, as it accentuates and concentrates the porcine flavor.”
Mario Grisanti, owner of Dino’s Grill: “I make my own barbecue sauce, but I make it sweet. I would make a beef brisket and smoked pork barbecue lasagna with layers of meats, mozzarella cheese, etc. Thin layers of each covered in barbecue sauce.”
Chip Dunham, chef/owner of Magnolia & May: “One of my favorite barbecue dishes I’ve created is our Tacos con Mempho. I smoke my own pork shoulder for 12 hours and serve it on two corn tortillas with American cheese melted between them, avocado salsa, and tobacco onions. At brunch, we simply just add a scrambled egg and it’s a breakfast taco. Another one of my favorites was our barbecue butternut squash sandwich. We roast butternut squash and toss it with some Memphis barbecue sauce. It’s a vegan sandwich that satisfies the biggest meat-eater.”
Kelly English, chef/owner of Restaurant Iris and The Second Line: “If I were to try to put my own fingerprints on what Memphis already does perfectly, I would play around with fermentations and chili peppers. I would also explore the traditions of barbacoa in ancient Central American and surrounding societies.”
Jimmy “Sushi Jimmi” Sinh, Poke Paradise food truck owner: “I made a roll with barbecue meats a long time ago. Made with Central BBQ ribs. I made them plenty of times when I hung out with my barbecue friends. I did it in my rookie years. Inside is all rib meat topped with rib meat, barbecue crab mix, thin-sliced jalapeño, dab of sriracha, furikake, green onion.”
Armando Gagliano, Ecco on Overton Park chef/owner: “My favorite meat to smoke is pork back ribs. I keep the dry rub pretty simple: half brown sugar to a quarter adobo and a quarter salt. I smoke my ribs at 250-275 degrees using post oak wood and offset smoker. … The ribs are smoked for three hours and spritzed with orange juice and sherry vinegar every 30 minutes. After three hours, I baste with a homemade barbecue sauce that includes a lot of chipotle peppers and honey. Wrap the ribs in foil and put back on the smoker for two hours. After that, remove from the smoker and let rest in the foil for another hour. They should pull completely off the bone, but not fall apart when handled.”
FreeSol, owner of Red Bones Turkey Legs at Carolina Watershed: “I am already doing it with the turkey legs. We are smoking these legs for hours till they fall of the bone. … We [also] flavor them and stuff them.”
Ryan Trimm, chef/owner of Sunrise Memphis and 117 Prime: “Beef spare ribs are a personal favorite of mine. A nice smoke with a black pepper-based rub followed by a fruit-based sweet-and-spicy barbecue sauce is my way to go.”
And even Huey’s gets in on the act. Huey’s COO Ashley Boggs Robilio says, “Recipe created by Huey’s Midtown day crew: Huey’s world famous BBQ brisket burger. Topped with coleslaw and fried jalapeños.”
Continuing to celebrate barbecue month in Memphis, more chefs share ’que ideas in next week’s Memphis Flyer.
Things seem a little different these days. Recently, I attended the Beale Street Music Festival, to cover the event for the Flyer, but also because live music is one of life’s greatest pleasures. After two years without writing a BSMF recap, pounding out 1,000 words the Monday after felt blessedly normal.
Don’t get me wrong. Those paying attention know that weekly positivity rates on Covid tests are ticking back upward. Covid isn’t gone. But events are happening, I’m vaccinated, and when I watched Cory Branan rip through “The Prettiest Waitress in Memphis,” I was able to enjoy the song instead of wondering just how many of the people in the crowd were Covid-positive. Anyway.
Last week, I went to a friend’s annual work party at a local brewery. That evening I met some friends for dinner and drinks. We shared stories, talked about work, and my friend admitted that she wasn’t moved by a recent live production of Macbeth she attended. Uncultured swine that I am, I said that for me, no theater-going experience has ever topped the time when, on a junior high field trip, I saw a college production of Dracula. (Remember that — we’ll get back around to it in a bit.)
As the evening came to a close and we prepared to head our separate ways, the conversation turned to a certain intangible but undeniable something in the air. I felt it at BSMF too — there were odd moments, times when the enthusiastic audience seemed not to know what to do. One of my dinner companions shared a story of a mild verbal interaction that spiraled into threats of physical violence. She described one of the parties involved being held back by her companions, clinging to the door frame, trying to pull herself across the threshold to start a fight.
Things seem a little different these days. There’s something simmering under the surface.
That was on my mind the next day when I caught a screening of the new Doctor Strange flick. It was okay. As a longtime fan of The Evil Dead, I appreciated the signature touches of director Sam Raimi. And there were moments when I thought, “Hey, here I am in a theater again. How wonderful is this?” The spell was nearly broken, though, by another moviegoer in my row who talked through the entire film. I considered saying something. I have before. Once I turned around and fake-apologized to a chatty couple, “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. Did we stumble into your living room? It must be awkward for all of us to be here. I hope we don’t ruin the mood.”
But I kept my mouth shut. I thought about saying something, even considered being polite instead of snarky, for a change. Then I thought about being stabbed to death in a Marvel movie and decided it wasn’t worth it. Everyone’s on edge.
Things seem a little different these days. It’s been in the back of my mind since the March 2020 debate between now-President Joe Biden and Senator Bernie Sanders, when Biden said he was not in favor of Medicare for all or any single-payer system. Both candidates admitted we were experiencing an “unprecedented moment” in history, but in the midst of that moment, the leading candidate appeared more committed to maintaining the economic and social status quo than to finding a solution. More than two years later, I haven’t gotten over it. It just feels crazy, this insistence on individual solutions to large-scale problems. This belief that nothing should change. Or that civility or bipartisanship are goals to be prized in and of themselves.
Speaking of unchanging, some 125 years ago this month, Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published. Its plot points and motifs make the 19th-century novel a fair companion to today’s world. It’s a story of greed, wealth, and disease, of old systems refusing to die, sucking the life from young blood. Told in the form of letters, diary entries, and newspaper clippings, it gives the reader a broad view of the horror, something none of the characters can see as a whole. So the reader knows Count Dracula is a vampire, while the characters grope blindly in the dark. That’s often what it feels like these days.
Discussions on pressing problems are siloed, divorced from a larger reality. Meanwhile, we soldier on, going to work, paying bills, meeting friends for dinner and to discuss that certain something that taints the atmosphere, like the stench of burned sugar wafting from another room. People discuss workforce issues without mentioning the more than 994,000 Americans who have died of Covid. The shortage of baby formula hit the headlines the same week as the SCOTUS Roe leak. Something must be done to address these issues — but nothing that risks fundamental change.
There’s something in the air, and we’re reaching for the air freshener instead of looking for the source.
Trustee Regina
Newman (Photo: Shelby County
Government)
What’s the connection between a family squabble and the Shelby County tax rate?
The answer is: their respective places on Monday’s agenda of the Shelby County Commission, where they were consecutive items.
A “family squabble” is what one item was called by a couple of participants in the longish debate spurred by a proposal to build out the grounds of the Barretville General Store up in northern Shelby County so as to create an expanded gravel parking lot and an outdoor entertainment center.
One brother, local landowner Paul Matthews, led a group of opponents of the project who professed concern about “intense noise and unsafe traffic” to come. His neighbor and brother Barret Matthews headed up the project, which he and a group of supporters including Shelby County Republican chair Cary Vaughn and former legislator/judge Karen Williams saw as a great add-on to what was already a family-friendly gathering place.
There was significant back-and-forth on the pros and cons. After something like an hour and a half of debate, county historian Jimmy Rout got in on the act, proclaiming that “history is not in a time warp. There has got to be a compromise. This” … here we go … “this family squabble has gone on for 80 years.”
And, indeed, the commissioners finally adopted a good-faith compromise that would allow the build-out so long as there is no change in the ownership of the general store and its grounds, nor in the leadership of the project.
Among the consequences of this happy medium would be the guaranteed preservation of the annual Bobby Blue Bland Day celebration on the grounds.
Once the Barretville General Store issue was squared away, the commission took up the matter of the county’s 2022 property-tax rate. Mayor Lee Harris’ administration sent down a rate of 3.399 cents per $100 of assessed value, the percentage rate suggested by the state comptroller’s office. That was the rate, too, it was understood, that correlated fairly precisely with the mayor’s budget, soon to be unveiled.
Note, however, the three numbers beyond the decimal point. That works with the state’s computer, but not with the Shelby County IT system, which, as Trustee Regina Newman pointed out, can only conjure tax bills with a rate of two numbers past the decimal.
“It’s a 25-year-old system,” she said, further explaining that, to work with the 3.399 rate would require extensive bill-by-bill manual effort by ad hoc hirees and cost $8 million. “We would lose money.” (A new, more versatile IT system, she promised, would be coming in the spring of 2024.)
Commissioner Edmund Ford Jr. had already suggested rounding off the state rate to 3.39. That, he noted, would shave $2 million off the budget of the mayor, whom, it is well known, he regards as an antagonist.
Others made the case for rounding off the 3.399 rate to 3.4, theoretically preserving Harris’ prerogatives.
In the end, after another lengthy debate, the commissioners postponed resolving things until their May 23rd meeting.
Other matters requiring extended attention on Monday included discussion of a pay scale for the commissioners, the resolution of bonus payments to Health Department employees, and the decision to proceed, at the May 23rd meeting, to fill the vacancy in House of Representatives District 91.
And the commission finally — a year and a half after the “Soulsville” TIF to redevelop South Memphis was first proposed, and the better part of a year since the Community Redevelopment Agency (CRA) gave the project a green light — voted to establish the trust fund for the TIF.
At the end of the meeting, which lasted five hours-plus, an invitation to speak was extended to Britney Thornton, an audience member whose victory in District 10 entitled her to the title of Commissioner-elect (there being no GOP opponent in the forthcoming August general election).
Her basic comment: “Y’all certainly have a lot of stamina.”
Last week University of Memphis Athletics launched its official online marketplace on Opendorse for student athletes to sell their name, image, and likeness to brands, sponsors, and donors. For example, digital deals (tweets and such) with U of M softball outfielder Hannah Bassham (above) start at $10.
Pothole Police
Posted to YouTube by Jakely Adams
YouTuber Jakely Adams watched cars bottom out in a Memphis pothole last week in a video that racked up more than 12,600 views.
“Not the new Chrysler,” Adams moaned as the car (above) approached the “big ass” pothole. The car scraped inside the crater and Adams cried, “God dog! That is wild!”
‘Lil Bitty Penis’
Posted to Nextdoor by Crystal Hall
Grahamwood Heights neighbor Crystal Hall wanted justice last week. A man flashed her “with his penis” on the sidewalk in front of her house. She hoped neighbors on Nextdoor could get his car tag as she was filing a report on “the flasher man” for “pulling out that lil bitty penis.”
It really is unbelievable, when you think about it. You have to wonder how this can possibly be happening in 2022. Women are being treated like chattel — their bodies controlled by the state as though they were livestock, their gender and sexuality no longer their own.
I’m talking, of course, about Afghanistan’s autocratic Taliban rulers, who last week ordered all Afghan women to wear body-covering burkas in public. The decree further mandated that women leave their homes only when necessary, even when wearing a burka. Male relatives will also face punishment — including possible jail time — if women in their family violate the dress code.
It was seen as a hard shift by the Taliban government, one that confirmed the worst fears of human rights activists. It is a cruel and absurd level of oppression and misogyny, but what do you expect when government and religious ideology are combined? It’s so distressing.
Meanwhile, in the United States of America, the Supreme Court (where six of the nine justices are Catholic) appears to be ready to overturn Roe v. Wade and thereby legalize religious-based laws banning or restricting abortion in 26 states (and counting). Seventy percent of Americans oppose making abortion illegal again, but this is a case where “majority rule” is truly a joke. As Republicans learned long ago: Control the judges and you control the law.
The problem, of course, is not necessarily that the justices are Catholic — liberal Justice Sonia Sotomayor is Catholic, for example — the problem is that the five judges in question have been vetted and brought to the fore by the ultra-conservative Federalist Society, which opposes abortion rights. Presidents G.W. Bush and Donald Trump (both of whom lost the popular vote) followed their recommendations, and here we are. It’s been the Federalists’ stated goal to overturn Roe v. Wade for 50 years, and it looks like they’re about to succeed.
John Gehring, Catholic program director at the Washington-based clergy network Faith in Public Life, was interviewed by the AP: “The Catholic intellectual tradition has produced giants of liberal thought as well, but in recent decades the right has done a better job building institutions that nurture pathways to power.” No kidding.
And let’s not forget the Evangelical Christians’ contribution to this pending fustercluck. David Talcott, professor of philosophy at King’s College and an expert in Christian sexual ethics, told vox.com: “Conservative Catholics and conservative evangelicals have become allies of certain kinds, each defending the interests of other, a theological and philosophical overlap between the two.” Indeed.
I’m no religious expert, but I am sure of one thing: What we’re talking about here is, at its core, sexual repression. Abortion is just one spoke in the traditional religious shame-wheel that also includes opposition to sex without marriage, LGBTQ rights (including gay marriage), contraception, masturbation, etc. — pretty much anything involving fun sexy-time — because their god has decreed that sex is not for f**king around. It’s for baby-making. The guilt is just an added feature, not a bug.
It’s no accident that when contraception became readily available to women via the pill, the sexual revolution followed, and Roe v. Wade became the law of the land. The religious right and their Republican groomers have been working to turn back the clock ever since. Can’t have women acting all uppity, after all. They need to learn their place and make some damn babies. The conservatives played the long game — stacking the courts — and it looks like they may finally pull it off. Much to their regret, I predict.
There are two principal theories about the now-infamous leak that made Justice Samuel Alito’s preliminary majority opinion public: 1) A liberal justice or associate leaked it to provoke alarm among progressives and arouse the base for the midterms. 2) A conservative justice or associate leaked it to prevent any of the five in the majority from being able to back away from their initial opinion on subsequent votes.
Ironically, both results will probably happen. As for the leaker? If I were a betting man, I’d put money on Mrs. Clarence Thomas.
St. George’s American Music Ensemble (Photo: Seth Taub)
In the world of jazz, few publications hold as much weight as DownBeat magazine. Founded in 1934, it quickly established itself as the authority on jazz, celebrating excellence to this day with its annual readers’ and critics’ polls of the field’s top instrumentalists, bands, and albums. And for almost half a century, DownBeat has also presented Student Music Awards. So when the hallowed journal picks a Memphis high school band as the top group of its kind in the nation, people take notice.
The modest size of St. George’s Independent School makes it that much sweeter that their band was just named the nation’s “Best High School Blues/Pop/Rock Group” in DownBeat’s 45th Annual Student Music Awards. As artist-in-residence and sole band director Tom Link notes, “A large part of it is that people here have a way deeper connection to some very important musical roots than people elsewhere. That’s one of the reasons why my students are so good. It’s because we’re here. And my school recognizes that and supports that.”
While many imagine a high school band in uniforms, marching across sports fields, St. George’s has cultivated a more scaled-back approach to music, and that may have given them the edge in the pop group category. “St. George’s is a tiny school,” Link says. “It used to be that even tiny schools had a marching band, but not so much now. Ours is just a rock band. A bass player, drummer, keyboard player, two guitar players, two singers, and four horn players. It’s a straight-up pop band. They’re the advanced kids in the upper school. The middle year band with younger kids has the same configuration, but we play more of a mix of jazz tunes and blues, just to get them used to playing. And then we have an introductory class for kids who are just learning their instruments. And that’s it.”
Nonetheless, this core group of players is learning every aspect of modern music-making. It doesn’t hurt that Link is an in-demand professional saxophonist who can walk the students through every facet of both performance and recording. “Before Covid,” he says, “we would go to a studio every year, like Ardent, and do a project. And that was cool, but then the studio engineer was doing all the real work. During Covid, we were forced to stop that, and we had no idea if that was going to work, putting that responsibility on the kids. Like, expecting them to learn the technology and record their own tracks. They had to become way more involved in the process than just standing around a microphone. But they rose to that occasion.”
To be considered for DownBeat’s award, a school band must submit three recorded songs, produced with as much professional pizzazz as possible. To achieve that, Link has them start working on the process well before the submission deadline. “You send in your recordings, and they have panels of professionals reviewing them,” he explains. “We’re in the middle of recording songs right now that I’ll submit at the end of this year. Two of the tracks I submitted last year were completely produced and engineered by students. I didn’t touch them at all. These days, it’s on their laptops. We make great sounding recordings using Logic and GarageBand.”
Often, the ensemble writes and produces original songs, but interpreting hit songs is also crucial. “Oddly, this is the first year we’ve won where all the tracks are covers,” Link explains. “We did ‘No Ordinary Love’ by Sade, but the kid that produced it added a whole rap verse to it. And we did ‘Dirty Work’ by Steely Dan, with female rather than male vocals. And we did Olivia Rodrigo’s ‘Drivers License.’ The impressive part was that it sounded exactly like the record.”
Now the young players can revel in their win. “It’s incredible to flip through the pages and see your school on the same page as the University of North Texas or the Manhattan School of Music,” Link enthuses. “Every university pays attention if this award shows up on a kid’s resume. And when the kids see it, they see they’re part of a bigger thing. Until then, they just don’t know how good they really are.”
When Lynne Smith stood in front of a jury, all eyes and ears were locked onto her. For several decades, she commanded respect as a trial lawyer in Memphis. Though she fought tirelessly for her clients, when she fought for her own life, no one was listening to her final closing argument.
Seen, Yet Unheard
Early September 2021, I drove my mom to several doctors’ appointments. She had been diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism a few months earlier. Despite the blood thinners to clear the clot, her health continued to deteriorate over the course of the summer. She was relying heavily on the use of oxygen, and her energy levels were nearly depleted.
My mom, who’d once climbed mountains and swam in waterfalls, could barely make it out of bed without assistance. Something was clearly not okay. Desperate for answers, she visited her primary care physician and cardiologist. Neither drew blood or ran any labs on her.
Two weeks later, her heart stopped and my dad had to perform CPR. She was rushed to the ER. The reason for her fatigue: She had almost no blood in her body. A mass in her colon was draining all of her blood. While in the hospital, she received two blood transfusions, and they biopsied the mass to determine whether it was malignant or not. Then, she was released from the hospital.
One week later, my sister found my mom lying unconscious on her bathroom floor. She died before reaching the hospital. When the doctor came into the room to inform my family that my mom had passed away, we found out officially that she had colon cancer. A cancer that Lynne Smith never had the opportunity to fight. She was seen, yet unheard. And sadly, that is the narrative for many Black women.
Nikia Grayson is the clinical director at CHOICES, Memphis Center for Reproductive Health. She says, “The system is fraught with fragmentation and structural racism.” Black women’s voices are being ignored and their concerns are not being taken seriously or are outright dismissed.
I often think how my mother’s story would have shifted if she’d been listened to by her physicians. Would she have made it to her 66th birthday less than a month from the day she died?
Kristen Smith (Photo: Justin Fox Burks)
Writing a New Legacy
Writing has always been cathartic for me. As early as 12, I have kept a journal or collection of writings in some form. I am now working to get those writings published as a book to encourage other people on their journeys. In the past 24 months, I have experienced firsthand the treatment of a Black woman seeking to receive mental healthcare. I was referred to rehabs, trauma centers, and specialists. I spent weeks in-patient in a variety of settings throughout the South. And as a Black woman, I was often in the minority as a patient and as a person. In my time, I only had one Black woman practitioner, a therapist in a facility in rural Kentucky. While there, I experienced racist comments from both the other patients and the staff. When I spoke out on how I felt, I was told by the white clinical staff that if I didn’t feel safe, then maybe it was time for me to go home.
In that moment, my voice not only felt incredibly small, but it was completely muted. I was screaming for help and met with deafened ears.
In April 2021, not only did I finally embrace my queerness and start walking in that truth, but I also connected with a Black woman therapist. Something clicked like never before, and I’ve felt my voice grew louder and prouder. Yet, I still carry the pain of being silenced for a lifetime as a queer, Black woman in Memphis.
And I feel my family’s stories are unfortunately not an anomaly. Historically speaking, Black women across the spectrum have had their voices marginalized. Using my mother’s story as a catalyst, I want to create space for our stories to be told, in our own words. It’s time to truly turn up the volume for Black women — and there are plenty of young, Black women waiting for their volume to be turned up.
Join my writing journey @roguecovergirl on Instagram and TikTok.
Chin Lindsey (Photo: Justin Fox Burks)
Singing Softly, but Boldly
“I got the Black woman experience, you know. … I feel like that’s something that you just can’t take away, you know.”
At 14, Chin Lindsey, now 19, was known by their peers and teachers as the “ukulele girl.” Lindsey walked through the hallways of Cordova High School with flowers in their hair, singing and strumming their ukulele. Though Lindsey is gender nonconforming, they said they still identify as a Black woman because that is an experience that can never be erased, although at times muted.
In fourth grade, Lindsey’s teacher would call them out for not wearing earrings, saying they looked like a boy. So Lindsey began wearing earrings to look like the other girls, though they never felt connected to any particular gender.
Lindsey and their mom moved around a lot in their early childhood. It was just the two of them, until their mom married their stepdad. As an only child for most of their childhood, they remember retreating into their own worlds of imagination. In these worlds, they’d also try to escape the pain of not having a great relationship with their biological father — something they desperately sought. While in high school, their maternal grandmother passed away, which was devastating to Lindsey, since they spent the bulk of their early years living with her. “I didn’t know how to deal with grief.”
During this time, Lindsey turned to music as a refuge. They were featured in school musicals and confidently carried their ukulele through the halls of high school, softly singing their own melody. Though music was an outlet, it did not provide an escape from the anxiety that was building, inwardly causing frequent panic attacks. And not wanting to be an additional burden to their mom, they would tell their mom they were all right. “But that wasn’t the truth.”
Lindsey moved to live with their best friend and “soul sister” in Austin, Texas, where they were often the only Black person in the classroom and that was a weird and new feeling. Lindsey put their ukulele down and the music stopped for a while.
And Lindsey began to doubt their voice — “It just wasn’t soulful enough.” But now as a young adult, they are ready to once again embrace the power of their story through singing and songwriting. Lindsey appreciates the softness in their voice as an invitation to vulnerability. There is no cap on the size of Lindsey’s audience. Maybe Madison Square Garden. Maybe YouTube. Maybe Broadway. But without a doubt, the volume will be turned all the way up.
Listen along to Lindsey’s songwriting journey on Instagram @chin.wow.
Mion Wilkes (Photo: Justin Fox Burks)
Connecting to the Prime Source
When Mion Wilkes, 22, experienced the death of her father at 16, she found herself in search of answers that weren’t found in traditional places. This experience sparked a spiritual journey that helped her discover her light and her voice.
Wilkes hails from North Memphis — “There were no other races, no diversity. It was just pretty much what it was,” she says. Then, she moved to Olive Branch and stood out like a “sore thumb.” She says everyone there expected her to be the “ghetto” girl, and they even idealized that version of her. Wilkes invoked that persona with a “hard” edge and became a novelty among her peers.
Returning to Olive Branch after a quick stint in Atlanta, Wilkes could no longer maintain that version of herself. In Atlanta, she saw all types of personalities and different types of people. She knew she was more than the Black girl from North Memphis. Before this time, she wrote raps to express her feelings and deep thoughts, but at that moment the raps became poetry “because it’s technically the same thing — just in a softer, more feminine way.”
Poetry helped her cope with her father’s death, as she reckoned with being fatherless at such a young age. His death also served as the starting point for her discovering her own spirituality and identity as a Black woman. “I realized that I’m a very soft person that my environment did not allow me to be.”
Wilkes began looking beyond the Christianity of her childhood. She meditated and felt a connection to something higher than herself, which she calls “The Universe.” This connection snapped her out of “autopilot,” and she began to adopt a holistic lifestyle that she wants to share with others. She’s currently finishing her degree in sustainability and wants to have her own company that “provides for the earth and picks up the things from people who don’t care … until they realize it matters.”
As she continues on this journey, she sees her own poetry book line, plant nurseries, and creating spiritual retreats and spaces for people to heal and “connect to the prime source.” But honestly, she sees it all because “we are bigger than our imaginations.”
Follow along Wilkes’ journey on Instagram @miondeshayy and her YouTube channel, Mion DeShayy.
Tyler Burkley (Photo: Courtesy Tyler Burkley)
Giving Voice (and Body)
Although Tyler Burkley, 27, grew up dancing throughout middle and high school, she did not meet the weight requirements to join the University of Memphis pom or cheer teams. Currently, Burkley is an eighth grade teacher, who’s breaking the mold and ripping the runway in pursuit of her dream of becoming a full-figured supermodel and entertainer.
Burkley grew up in South Memphis, and when she transferred to Ridgeway Middle School, she was bullied for being different from her peers. Though Burkley found solace in dance, her grades were barely passing, and in her core, she believed she wasn’t smart.
When Burkley transferred to The Soulsville Charter School, her GPA was under 2.0, and her confidence was self-described as even lower. But something shifted for Burkley while she attended Soulsville — she was inspired by having “positive Black women as role models.” The impact of having those role models was immeasurable to Burkley, who finished high school as salutatorian.
While Burkley was attending the University of Memphis, her mom suffered a massive stroke, paralyzing her from the waist down at the time and leaving her unable to speak. Shortly afterward, her nephew passed away at age 5. “There was no more dance after that,” says Burkley. During this time, Burkley used food as a coping mechanism and realized she had a compulsive overeating disorder and gained over 70 pounds.
As her weight increased, her self-esteem was falling with equal measure. This all changed when Burkley saw a model on Instagram who was also curvy. In that moment, she knew that was her destiny.
A few months later, Burkley became the first Black plus-sized model to walk Memphis Fashion Week. She’s walked countless more runways, modeled for local and national brands, and been featured in online, print, and TV media campaigns. Best of all, she’s loving herself along and listening to the voice of her mother’s call to “fly, little birdie. Fly.”
In addition to modeling, Burkley proudly stands in her queer identity. She’s giving voice (and body) to her goal of being a positive role model in her own community. And she’s very clear on who her community is — “People that look like me.”
As for the future, Burkley is not limiting herself. She expects to continue modeling, act in movies, have her own TV show, and most importantly, she says, “[help] others go for their dreams.”
Watch Burkley’s modeling journey @burkley.tyler on Instagram.
Raising the Next Women Up
In 2018, when Kia Moore founded the Church at The Well, she realized there were no other Black millennial women church planters in the area. It’s been important for Moore to be present and visible to inspire other Black women who might also aspire for the pulpit; however, that is not Moore’s greatest mission.
Moore is raising her 5-year-old Harper Dream to live without limits. She’s instilling a confidence in her that Moore hopes will allow Harper to freely use her voice to help the world around her. “So, I’m making sure we have more examples of confident and caring Black women by raising an extremely confident and caring Black girl.”
After volunteering and organizing in college, Carlissa A. Shaw felt jumping into politics was the best next step. With no political aspirations for herself, she founded CASE Consulting to help others in their campaigns for elected office. She’s passionate about helping her community and elevating Black women’s voices. Though she’s representing many Black women this election cycle, her greatest campaign is raising her 5-year-old daughter to “build her own goddamn tables.”
According to Shaw, Black women have been “conditioned to stay graceful in the midst of inhumane treatment.” That’s not a world she wants for her daughter, so she’s teaching Nia Grace to “know no limits.”
Turn Up Your Volume
“Life is a big canvas … paint on it as you will.”— Mion Wilkes
It is not easy to open up and be vulnerable. To share a part of your story for readers unknown. But that is exactly what these women did. For that, they should not only be applauded but followed. There is immense power in storytelling for not only elevating and amplifying marginalized voices, but creating space for so much more.
So now it’s your opportunity to turn up the volume on your story. If you are interested in sharing your story or highlighting someone else’s, send an email to turnupthevolume@memphisflyer.com to be featured in the recurring Turn up the Volume series.
