Thread by @michaelharriot

The Allegory of The Third-Floor Piano

A thread:

Years ago, a poor blacksmith was working for a wealthy slave trader when he heard an enslaved woman playing a beautiful song on a piano.

The blacksmith had never heard anything like it in his life. He had to hear the song again. He began working to build his wealth

Once he got rich, the formerly poor blacksmith went to the wealthy slave trader to purchase the enslaved woman but the slave trader refused.

“That’s how I get all my customers!” Said the wealthy man. “I hire her out to teach ppl how to play, but she isn’t for sale.”

So the blacksmith used the same enslaved ppl who built the slave traders piano & had them build an identical one. He made the slaves move the piano to the 3rd floor of his mansion so he could hear the piano through the open window as he worked in his blacksmith shop.

Then he “rented out” the enslaved piano playing woman to play the song nonstop.

This was very expensive, so the Blacksmith had a great idea.

Instead of paying for the enslaved woman’s playing, he paid the slave trader’s pianist to teach his children how to play.

The enslaved woman taught the children to play beautifully, but she wouldn’t teach them her song. She’d play too fast. She’d play different interpolations. The blacksmith’s grandchildren couldn’t learn it either. Neither could the great grandchildren

But their parents made them try. They practiced for hours searching for the song of the slave trader’s pianist.

The family became obsessed with trying to learn the song. Each successive generation of the blacksmith’s family tried to recreate the song, to no avail.

Because the piano was on the 3rd floor, people would come from miles around to hear the song. After the enslaved woman died, everyone eventually forgot about the song…

Except the Blacksmith’s family. Every generation of was raised with 1 goal:

Play the enslaved pianist’s song

Slavery eventually ended. The blacksmith family’s wealth was passed down to generations, even though they hadn’t produced more blacksmiths.

In their quest to play the song, the blacksmith had created 6 generations of world-class concert pianists, music professors and composers

For more than a century, people had gathered under the window of the 3rd-floor piano to hear them practice

They could all play because they had been raised with one life goal:

Play The song.

Soon the mansion & the 3rd floor piano became as famous as the family

The family used their generational wealth to build a music college with the 3rd floor piano as centerpiece. The blacksmith’s descendants all attended the University, but they never learned the song their ancestor had heard so many years ago.

One day, as the great great great great granddaughter of the farmer addressed the students, a Black student raised her hand.

“How did you learn to play so well?” Asked the student.

The descendant of the farmer told began recounting her family history. She didn’t lie about it.

“My forefather was not a musician,” she said. “He was just a poor Blacksmith who worked hard and loved music. He saved his money to buy this mansion and build this piano for his kids. He instilled those values in his children, who passed it down and built our family legacy.”

“What advice would you give to someone like me?” Asked the Black student.

“With hard work, practice, and dedication, you can have as much as I have,” the heiress replied. “I practiced 5 hours a day, 7 days a week to honor my family legacy. It’s how I was raised.”

“But not everyone has that much time, free lessons or a mansion with a 3rd floor piano,” said the Black student. “Don’t you think you benefitted from white privilege?”

“Hell no!” said the wealthy heiress. “My ancestor didn’t own slaves. He WORKED to move the piano up here.”

“He instilled hard work, sacrifice, & dedication in his family. That’s how we became great. Thats why give scholarships to ppl like you, to pass down those lessons.”

“I know everyone doesn’t have a 3rd floor piano,” said the student. “But don’t you think you were a little lucky?

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” said the heiress. “Ask my great great great grandfather if he was lucky. No, he MADE IT HAPPEN through hard work. When I see a home without a 3rd floor piano, I know their family didn’t value music as much as mine…

“So don’t diminish our hard work by attributing our accomplishments to white privilege. We worked for everything we have,” said the heiress.

The Black student thought about it. The heiress was right. No one in her community had a mansion, school, or a 3rd-floor piano.

Maybe white privilege didn’t exist. Maybe her community didn’t work hard. After all, the heiress’ family didn’t own slaves

As she reflected, she absentmindedly played a tune on the 3rd floor piano. The heiress’ mouth flew open.

It was the song of the slave trader’s pianist!

“Where did you learn that song?” Asked the heiress.

“Oh, this old thing?” replied the Black student. “My great, great, great grandmother wrote this song 200 years ago. She was enslaved on the plantation of a wealthy slave trader who lived near here.”

“Could you teach me how to play it?” the heiress asked.

“Nah,” the student replied. “I can’t. See, my ancestor composed this song knowing that people would pay a lot of money to learn it. It made her valuable. And because she was valuable, her slave owner refused to sell her…

If she would’ve taught anyone this song, she wouldn’t be needed anymore, her children would’ve been sold and she couldn’t have passed it down.

It’s actually how I got this scholarship. But I made a vow to my family that I will NEVER teach it to a white person.

“Well that’s racist,” said the heiress “Slavery is over. You need to let it go and stop playing the race card.

This kind of thinking is exactly why people in your community don’t have third-floor pianos.”

The end