Music in My Heart: My Journey with Melody

Monday morning, Melody’s mother drives us to Val’s neighborhood. I press my face to the window at the tall trees and wide lawns, so different from the neighborhood we visited yesterday registering voters, where kids played on steps and sidewalks. Here there’s more space to play but fewer kids in sight. I ask if Val has made friends. Melody shakes her head. Her family only moved here a few months ago.

As we turn into the driveway, the front door bursts open and Val, a little older than us, hurries down to hug Melody, then introduces herself to me, gesturing toward the backyard where her dad is putting up a swing set. Melody’s mom sends us ahead while she visits Cousin Tish inside.

We follow Val along the fence toward the backyard, where a blonde woman in a sunhat and gardening gloves pops up on the other side. Melody says hello, but the woman doesn’t seem to hear, bending back to her work. A blonde girl with a high ponytail sits on the porch behind her. I wave, but she looks away immediately. Val quietly explains her mom says the neighbors aren’t used to Black families on the block.

Val’s neighbors won’t even talk to her? That’s so wrong. But when I glance back, the girl is looking at me again. She might not be talking to us, but she seems curious.

Val’s new swing set has two yellow swings and a red glider. She says we can go first, and Melody settles in beside me, pumping her legs and saying she can see their new flowers from up here. All I can see is the girl next door. Once her mom gathers her tools and goes inside, the girl steps to the fence, and I ask if she wants a turn.

The girl nods slowly and walks to the gate connecting the two lawns, one I wonder if anyone’s ever used. I drag my feet to stop swinging and hand it off. She thanks me shyly. Val boldly introduces herself, learning the girl’s name is Cindy, and offers that she can come swing anytime, since her own mom won’t let her have a swing set without tearing out flowers. Cindy’s face lights up.

Melody challenges Cindy to a who-can-swing-highest contest, and I climb onto Val’s glider, soon seesawing along too. A woman calls from the house, offering lemonade, then spots Cindy on the swing. Cousin Tish just smiles and adds cookies to the tray. But before she can go back inside, the blonde woman comes out and hurries to the fence, clearly about to call Cindy home. Trouble.

Before the blonde woman can speak, Cousin Tish steps forward, saying it looks like the girls have made friends, and extends her hand: Tish Porter. Time seems to stop as the woman stares at it, then finally takes it. I let out my breath. Did I just help break down one of those walls Yvonne talked about? I think maybe I did.

I think of another neighborhood girl, the one who moved in between Anika’s house and mine, whom I only ever watched through my window, never waving or going out to say hello. Did that make her feel unwanted too?

Driving back to Melody’s house, I realize it’s time to go home. There’s something I really need to do when I get there.

Saying goodbye to Melody is hard, but back in the church basement, I’m eager to sit at the piano and play my way home. I close my eyes and remember the melody for “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” having found a new way to lift my voice today, inviting Val’s neighbor to swing with us.

Back in my bedroom, my phone dings, a text from Anika. I write back to meet me outside, then find Mom in her office to ask if I can go play. She looks surprised, asking if I forgot piano practice, but I tell her something more important is waiting.

Stepping outside, I hear my new neighbor still playing Frisbee with her brother. She smiles as I round the corner, and I cut across the grass to introduce myself just as Anika hurries down her own front steps toward us. A warm feeling spreads through me like hot cocoa. I already know the three of us will get along well.

I think of Melody. I miss her, but in some ways she’s still with me, helping me break down walls and make a difference.