Choir

Music possesses the power to transcend borders and unite hearts. That’s why, last month, a hundred children in Vanimo, Papua New Guinea packed their instruments to bring their music to Jayapura, Indonesia. It was a historic milestone: the first international tour for the students in the Queen of Paradise Project, launched seven years ago by Music Director Jesus Briceno with the support of Father Miguel de la Calle. Father Martin Prado is now the CEO of the project.

One of our longest-standing members asked a question at a meeting this year that I still cannot answer well. He had rehearsed four or five pieces for our concert last December. On the afternoon itself, he participated in playing only one of them. He wanted to know how that had come about. He put his question to everyone in the room.

Last month, my daughter’s choir director needed parents to take tickets to the year-end concert. I had been a choir singer and director myself, so I know the invisible work it takes to put students on a stage. When the request came, I wanted to be the kind of parent who showed up.

Then, my week got overwhelming. By the time the concert arrived, I was no longer deciding between helping and not helping. I was deciding which responsibility would boil over first if I took my attention off it.

Earlier this year, the BBC launched Get Singing, the largest U.K.-wide music education program in a decade.

When you walk down the halls of OrKidstra, you’ll hear the universal language of music around every corner. Laughter as the kids rush to the snack table during their break. And you’ll hear something distinctly Canadian: the beautiful sounds of a community composed of 62 different cultural and linguistic backgrounds. A community of belonging.

Unlike more privileged settings, we could not make the switch to online teaching; we did try it, but most of our children did not have their own phones, and there were other issues, such as out of tune instruments, strings broken, and instruments outgrown. When the lockdown eventually lifted, many of our children had moved out of area or progressed to higher mainstream education which took them away from music lessons, either geographically or in terms of available time. We have had to start over, with new groups of children for violin and cello.

But there is also good news to balance things out.

It was during a choir rehearsal, at age nine, that I decided to become a composer. Choir was an oasis of joy in an otherwise difficult school experience; I simply lived for each opportunity to sing. Since then, it’s been my joy to witness, time and time again, music’s transformative power in community—never more so than in communities of singers, and never more powerfully than when those singers are empowered to compose their own songs.

The Queen of Paradise program was originally the brainchild of Father Miguel de la Calle, a priest at the IVE (Instituto del Verbo Encarnado) mission in Papua New Guinea. Father Miguel, says Maestro Briceño, “had full confidence, from day one, in the power of music to positively change lives.”