Early Songs

It's fair to say that Charlie's cultural upbringing will be anything but typical. We are a veritable United Nations here at 10 Holyoke Road, and unabashadly so. I will be fascinated as I watch Charlie start to understand all the different parts that make him up.

Culture is wonderfully abstract and individualized as a concept, a unique combination of religion, habit, location, legal standing, and local custom. As interesting as this conversation may be, I'd rather now jump to a piece of culture much more earthy and catchy--music. Perhaps second only to food as an understood embodiment of one's culture, music is sure to be key to Charlie's upbringing, his links to the very different members of his big family.

The first songs I had him listen to were from Beethoven, part of a Baby Beethoven collection. Sure, maybe the whole popular idea that classical music stimulates a baby's brain is total farce, but I don't suppose it hurts the brain, so why not give it a try? Turns out these songs hurt his brain--he hated the Beethoven CD. That was at one month old, so maybe I should give it another try, but not now.

This has been the only fail that I'm aware of. Otherwise, he's had no problem with all kinds of rock, hip-hop, chutney and soca (songs from Trinidad), jazz, blues, gospel, and of course children's songs. Before he was born I was singing the Beatles to him through Lisa's belly. Brandon will sing him lullabies. Stephan had him dancing to Baby Got Back. Lisa shared Trini Christmas music with him. I cannot wait to see my son as a man who is shaped by these experiences. Of course, I also cannot stand to imagine him growing up faster than he already is (seven months old on Saturday...).

Part of writing these blog posts is to remember the specifics that time eventually erases from our minds. I want Charlie to know more than general stories--I want him to see his life as it happened.

With this in mind, I'll close with a link to a special song that we share: "My Heart Is an Apple" by Arcade Fire. Many people don't know Arcade Fire; of those who do, few know this song, which is not often played or known. I don't know why I like it so much. It's pretty, it's honest, it's personal, all hallmarks of songs I typically like, but I feel this song more than most. I sing it to Charlie all of the time, not so much because I want him to know the message, but because he has a physical reaction of calmness and relaxation as I sing.

So kiddo, I don't know if this song represents your culture, or mine for that matter, but it exists as a nice bond we share: me making you feel serene, you resting your head against my chest. As much as I felt this song before you were born, I assure you I feel it so much more now. It's now a part of me because it's a part of us.