STAND WITH ME
by Maura Gregory © 2000

A note from the composer: I've taken an active part in the anti-racist struggle for many years. My mother was deeply involved in the Civil Rights Movement of the 60's and took me with her to rallies and door-to-door to sign petitions. In Virginia, this took guts. In the 1980's, my husband and I co-founded an anti-bias group in Brooklyn. We would take action whenever there was an act of bias violence anywhere in New York City.

Then I became a parent, and new perspectives emerged for many things in life. But none so deep as my feelings on this issue, because my children are black. One morning I heard the description of what happened to James Byrd in Jasper, Texas, and I couldn't stop crying. All I could think was "that could've been my baby." This song comes from those emotions.

I think if every white parent could experience these events with the gut-wrenching fear that black parents have lived with for hundreds of years, we would have a revolution that would stop this violence and change this country forever.

Vocal and Guitar: Maura
Lead Guitar: Eric on 12-String
Harmonica: Nancy De Luca, Guest Instrumentalist

When I woke up this morning, I felt so sick when I heard
What those racists in Jasper, Texas, did to a black man, James Byrd.

Chorus:
Parents of white children, please hear my plea.
If they were killing your babies, you'd be standing here with me.

Her big brown eyes are so innocent,
His copper brown skin, sweet as chocolate.
Today I protect them, my little boy, my little girl,
But so soon they'll be alone out there in this racist world.

Chorus:
Parents of white children, please hear my plea.
If they were killing your children, you'd be standing here with me.

All over this city, cops are going wild.
Each black person they kill was once some mother's child.
Anthony Baez in the Bronx, Patrick Dorismond on the Manhattan beat,
Forty-one bullets in Amadou Diallo 'cause racists own the streets.

Chorus:
Parents of white children, please hear my plea.
If they were killing your children, I know you'd be standing here with me.

Mothers burying children, Lord, you know it ain't right.
We've got to teach our babies, "Watch your step 'cause you ain't white."
Or maybe they're female or maybe they're gay -
Your children, my children, getting hurt bad every day.

Chorus:
Parents everywhere, please hear my plea.
They're killing our children, and I need you.
You know I need you, yes, I need you!
I need you right up here with me!