When Laurie Carter asked me if I would direct this year’s Martin Luther King Celebration, I was immediately taken back to 1992, my first year at Juilliard, when I first participated in the event. Singing in the choir, reading Dr. King’s words, listening to Viola Davis’s incredible student address—all of these memories filled me with such excitement and pride that saying no was not even an option. The “MLK vibe” overcame me, that amazing feeling of hope and manifested faith, knowing you are involved in something greater than yourself. From the first time I learned about it, through the trials of putting the productions together, to seeing them come to fruition, faith has been the constant factor in my involvement with Juilliard’s Martin Luther King Celebration: my faith, the faith others have had in me and in those involved, and the faith of many people who still believe in the things Dr. King stood for.

The author (far right), when he was a student, performed in the MLK concert in January 1994. Also pictured (left to right) are singers Theresa Santiago, Jason Ferrante, and Jennifer Hines. (Photo by Carol Rosegg)

I received my first dose of the “MLK vibe” even before I started my master’s degree. I was a student at Illinois Wesleyan University, preparing a song for a gospel celebration, when my then-current teacher began telling me about his experiences with “MLK” at Juilliard. I could feel his excitement as he talked about directing a gospel choir filled with voices from all walks of Juilliard life: the best young actors, dancers, violinists, and pianists from all over the world, joining together in song as Juilliard’s first gospel choir. He went on about the feeling of community and the power of that number, and I couldn’t help but notice a small gleam in his eye that said, “You’ll see.” His name was Dr. Barrington Coleman, and at that time he knew I had my sights set on Juilliard. He knew that my passion for Dr. King’s teachings would put me on a collision course with the MLK celebration there. Little did I know that, at that moment, he had infected me with the “MLK vibe.”

My second dose was in Santa Fe, N.M. I was apprenticing there as a young artist the summer before I arrived at Juilliard. Another apprentice whom I had befriended, Abby Furmansky, a young artist with the Juilliard Opera Center, and I were sitting under the stars in the open-air theater waiting to go on in the chorus in Don Giovanni. She was regaling me with horror stories about life at Juillard—ear training and keyboard skills and the like. She commented that she had lucked out because her teaching assistant was Barrington Coleman, about whom she could not say enough. I told her of my connection to Barrington and immediately we found ourselves talking about MLK. I could hear such joy and excitement in her every memory. It was such an incredible time for her because it was the one time of year when she collaborated with people outside of her division and flexed her own creative muscles. When she said collaboration, I could see that familiar look in her eye that said, “You’ll see.” I was hooked before I had stepped foot in the building. I was anxious to have the MLK experience first hand.

Once at Juilliard, I signed up and made a proposal for the King celebration, but as Juilliard students know, time for outside projects is a definite luxury. School was more difficult than I had anticipated, and I was feeling the crunch. I couldn’t see how I would have time for MLK. I had befriended several other students who had been a part in previous years, and among them the vibe was more prevalent than ever. I would ask them how they found time to put a project like this together. I was beginning to question what was so special about this celebration that I should find the time for it in my already too-busy life. Was it really worth it? They would tell me tales of past MLKs when so-and-so had sung such-and-such, and how moving this or that piece was. At times I felt like I was on the outside of some secret society looking in. But I could also see the effect this celebration had on them. There was that vibe again. I felt it so clearly, but still had my doubts as to whether my contribution was necessary. But I kept my faith and honored my commitment to stay in the program.

At the actual rehearsals I began to wonder if this was actually going to happen. There were constant scheduling conflicts and sometimes people just didn’t show up. I remember voicing my frustrations to Laurie Carter, who would look at me with that “You’ll see” look. “What are we walking on?” she would ask. I would blindly reply, “Faith.” With just a few days left before the actual performance, I still hadn’t seen half of the people involved. Faith was all I had that this event would be a celebration and not a disaster. Still, I could feel something inside reassuring me with that same “You’ll see.” I began to focus on Dr. King and his life’s philosophy.

This was a man who awakened the conscience in a nation that touted freedom and equality for all people but granted it to only a few; a man who lived his life solely on faith that his efforts, large or small, would make a difference; who inspired people to oppose social injustice with marches, songs, and sit-ins with only the assurance of “You’ll see.” How easy it would have been at that time to have preached using violence to turn the tides! But Dr. King believed in a different path, and his awesome faith would change the face of a nation and help raise global consciousness towards higher understanding and enlightenment. One man’s work made a difference in my life before it had even begun. There was no room for faltering faith. I had to do my part even if that meant to wait and see.

It was during the actual performance that I finally saw and heard what everyone had been talking about. All the participants showed up. Viola Davis spoke to a packed theater with words forged in the spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. That was when I really began to understand. Before, it had been just a vibe, a feeling. I had been looking at it as a performance opportunity, because at that time there were fewer opportunities at Juilliard to perform. This celebration seemed like the perfect opportunity to collaborate and do my thing. But at that moment, I could see people driven by something much bigger. We were gathered there because Dr. King’s life had touched each of us in very different and deeply personal ways, and we had to share those experiences on this designated day. Watching the performances, I could see his teachings sewing us together in a collective whole. Dancers singing, actors and singers dancing, and everyone united in joy and celebration of a man who lived his life for the betterment of others, then and now.

It is for this reason that I am so happy to return once more to be a part of MLK. To share my experiences of past celebrations and ensure the legacy of Dr. King for those participants who came before me, and those who will come after. It is a distinct honor to be able to unite Juilliard students in this difficult time of war and devastation to create something commemorating faith and peace. There are many who know what I speak about from personal experience. For those who do not, I invite you to come out and take part as participants and audience members. Come to Paul Hall at 7 p.m. on January 21, 2002 to the 13th Annual Martin Luther King Celebration and, I promise, “You’ll see.”

James Martin received a Master of Music from Juilliard in 1995 and was a young artist with the Juilliard Opera Center from 1995-1997. He currently performs throughout the U.S. and Europe.