Worthy

I love Mavis Staples. She’s a lifelong civil rights activist and an R&B/gospel music icon who began her career in 1948 with her father and sisters in The Staple Singers. Her voice finds my ear everywhere—movies, commercials galore—and her face even graces a mural across from a drugstore near my house. To me, she is as much the soundtrack of Chicago as the skyline supported by the Hancock Building (and whatever we’re calling the Sears Tower these days).

So, when Eileen Murphy and Charlotte Kovacs agreed to bring back our summer playlist, I knew it had to feature Mavis.

I love her for many reasons—her music, her voice, the fact that she once turned down a marriage proposal from Bob Dylan—and because nearly all her songs carry soulful, affirming messages. But beyond all that, to me, she represents the intersection of talent, activism, integrity, soul, and cool. I want to be more like her as I age.

I have a short list of older women I hope to emulate someday. But I have a much longer list of women throughout my life who have poured wisdom, support, and love into me—women who helped me claim my sense of self and understand who I am not. That’s why I wanted to write about this song: “Worthy.”

Why this song?

By the time I reached my 20s, both of my grandmothers had passed.. Looking back, I realize I never truly got to know them as individuals. They were both remarkable women who lived adventurous lives, shaped by compromises for their husbands’ careers and the responsibilities of raising children. I can sort of tell their stories, but time has blurred crisp facts and storylines into a mishmash of foggy details.

When I hear “Worthy,” I hear echoes of the women who came before me—my grandmothers and other ancestors—who didn’t have the opportunities that I (we) have now. I’m aware that there are freedoms and options available to me that women throughout history rarely had. And yet: fear, self-doubt, raising children, being paid less (even with more education), and the million tiny distractions of the patriarchy still threaten to block women from becoming who they want to be.

That’s when Grandmother Mavis whispers:

You know, you're Worthy To take up all that space

“Worthy” is a song I play when I feel deeply unworthy—when I’m questioning everything and asking, “Why is this so hard?” I added it to the playlist for me as a reminder. I added it for you because… this song elevates.

Therapeutic Link

Bear with me here—do you remember the Seinfeld episode called “George Does the Opposite”? It’s the one where George decides that every choice he’s made has led him to being unemployed, single, living with his parents, and miserable. So, he chooses to do the exact opposite of every instinct. By the end of the episode, he has a beautiful girlfriend, a cool job with the Yankees, and plans to move out of his parents’ house.

As wild as it sounds, that’s actually a real therapeutic technique in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy (DBT) called “Opposite Action.”

I think music is a great way to practice this skill. If I feel angry, I might choose music that embodies anger —Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill or if I’m sad, I may reach for R.E.M.’s Automatic for the People. But if I want to shift a mood, or not get stuck in an sticky emotion I might reach for a song from our uplift playlist. Specifically, I might choose “Worthy.”

First the music may serves as a distraction, but more importantly it validates my feelings—and gently reminds me of what’s true.

Waiting for the good times Facing judgment Even at your high highsIf they don't see it, you can let 'em doubt And when they try to kick you, don't let yourself get down Hope you know you're— Whoa—You're Worthy

Ravenswood’s Levy Senior Center Mural, Artists:Christophe Gausparro and Jeff Zimmermann. No sources can confirm that the face with the microphone is Mavis Staples, this writer finds the likeness similar.

In my wildest dreams, I am an 86-year-old rockstar headlining music festivals and collaborating with the hippest artists. (As I am now past halfway to 86—yikes!—and my musical talent peaked with turning a radio dial, I’ll be content to live vicariously through Mavis Staples.)

In my real dreams, I’m a woman who took full advantage of the historic opportunities of this moment—and who lifted other women with her. Mavis, and this song in particular, remind me that if I’m lucky enough to grow old, I am worthy of reaching for what has long been considered impossible.