Hi everyone! This is Hannah Mayree, the founder and executive director of the Black Banjo Reclamation Project (BBRP). I’m also a musician, performer, organizer, parent, traveler, philosopher and educator.

My work with the banjo and with BBRP has been well documented. I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to work with film crews over the years and journalists to tell the narrative of BBRP but it occurred to me in being asked to do this article that I haven’t done any writing about my own narrative regarding the experience being part of and creating this organization. I can often be caught writing for our Patreon and our monthly newsletter that come into your email inboxes if you signed up on BBRPs website. But this is a nice opportunity to tell more of that story from the first person.

Now in our 8th year as an organization, I can look back and feel super accomplished. The amount of Black people who have had meaningful hands on experiences exploring and playing the banjo in Black centered spaces has grown exponentially since we started creating Black spaces for programming and workshops at the start of 2019 in Oakland CA. The world was a different place a decade ago.

The Carolina Chocolate Drops formed their band in 2005 and by 2010 had received Grammys for their debut album. My journey with the banjo started in 2010 which was the first time I remember getting my hands on one.

The story of the banjo starts long ago and due to several researchers over the last century, we have a lot more information about the banjo and its African American and Caribbean roots. The story starts before the research can trace but we have a lot of source material to draw from when it comes to conclusions about who was playing this instrument, how, where and when they existed.

We know that instruments of West Africa have paved the way for the banjo and even that the banjo evolved from them. The banjo is unique in that it is a diasporic instrument that was created through colonial disruption and throughout its history continued to be industrialized and colonized for the benefit of people who were not connected to its source as a cultural and spiritual transmission of music between people and generations. We live in a world now where many people of different backgrounds play the banjo. But circling back to 10-15 years ago, there were fewer people who knew the history and acknowledged the origins or paid homage to the ancestors of the banjo or their own.

The BBRP is an institution that I consider an ecosystem. We are a folk school even though we don’t have a permanent building or location. I would consider us a community organization and social club with a focus on music education, craft and cultural practices that surround the banjo. I have had the pleasure of working with a team of practitioners over the year and in partnership with various organizations and individuals that have played a part in sharing and spreading information and uplifting our community by being part of this reclamation.

 

Reclamation in this context means that the banjo was something that in my opinion was taken from Black people, even if not in the literal sense. Having the experience of being a Black person who didn’t know about the origins of the banjo until adulthood, it has felt to me that it was something that was taken away that we have had to go and retrieve— Sankofa.

As a banjo player and lifelong musician, it was never enough for me to embark on this journey with the purpose being for me to uplift just myself. I was already fulfilling myself enough by just playing music for my own mental health. It became apparent to me early on that this was much larger than myself or any one artist. I saw it as an opportunity to be in solidarity with other musicians on a similar path and a way to come together as a community that could growing as a unit as a cultural phenomenon.

I am proud of myself and the community that exists as a network, a group of friends, a musical resource, that we have collectively made it possible for dozens of people to receive banjos, education online and in person in locations around the country, grow gourds, learn woodworking, create spiritual bonds with ancestors past and future with instruments that have been in our lineages for centuries.

The journey is not over, we have a long way to go. There are many unknown factors in our world and in the midst of chaos it’s important that we not lose sight of the vision that the banjo holds for our collective power and our ancestral imagination. We are shaping the future of the banjo and of Black life even as it is under attack. We are standing against oppression on the daily and part of how we do that is with joy, with history, by growing wealth in Black communities through skills and material resources.

We all have the ability to capture moments in our voices and in our songs. Our songs have the ability to remind us who we are. My intention is togetherness, solidarity, learning, growing and bettering conditions for the next generations to thrive. I’m incredibly grateful to call this my job and my life. It is an honor to work with so many of you and to serve the community the way that I wish could have been possible for me when I first came into contact with the banjo.

Thank you to FolkWorks and FAR-West for growing this movement with us as we represent our west coast roots as banjo practitioners and we are thrilled to be continuing this work with all of our partners for the coming year.