Lift Every Voice Above the Star-Spangled Banner

Who our country can become...

On Sunday, Congressman Matt Gaetz posted to Twitter that he would not watch the Super Bowl because they were “desecrating America by playing something called the ‘Black National Anthem,’” before the game. “Does that mean Cardi is performing?” he reported his wife asked him. Thousands added their angry responses. “We already have a national anthem,” wrote Megyn Kelly, “and it includes EVERYONE.” Since folks are openly inviting the question, let’s talk about why “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” is musically, textually, and historically better than the U.S. National Anthem—and how white rage tries to control who America can become.

“The Star-Spangled Banner,” is adapted from a poem “Defence of Fort M’Henry” that Francis Scott Key wrote after witnessing an attack by British ships during the war of 1812. The son of a wealthy plantation family, Key bought his first enslaved person in 1800 when he was twenty-one years old. By the time he wrote the poem, he personally owned six enslaved Africans. Professionally, he defended several enslavers seeking to reclaim people who fled from captivity. Even the anthem itself makes his values clear. In the third verse, Key triumphantly proclaims, “No refuge could save the hireling or slave.” In case the audience for this anthem was in doubt, the final verse begins, “Thus be it ever when freemen shall stand.” Indeed, the racism in its verses is partly why it didn’t become our national anthem for more than a century after Key wrote it. It was made official in 1931 under Jim Crow “as a neo-Confederate political victory.” If there’s an anthem that was written with everyone in mind, it certainly was not this one.

“Lift Every Voice and Sing,” on the other hand, was written by NAACP leader Samuel Weldon Johnson in 1900, and put to music by his brother, James. Initially, Johnson wrote the song for the segregated school where he served as principal, to give the children something they would feel pride singing. Quickly, however, it spread throughout Black communities, as people embraced lyrics which spoke to both the pain and pride of being a Black American. The tension between our past and future promise brims through every verse; lines like “We have come over a way that with tears have been watered,” held in balance with proclamations that, “we stand at last where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.” Crucially, the song does not dwell exclusively on our history, but actively calls the listener: “Facing the rising sun of our new day begun, let us fight on until victory is won.”

This focus on completing America’s unfinished work of liberation is why the song became a staple of the Civil Rights Movement. Folks organizing the Montgomery Bus Boycott sang it during meetings, and Dr. King quoted its lyrics in his speeches. After King was assassinated TIME Magazine reports, “a crowd in Roxbury, Mass., sang the song, with Reverend Virgil Wood declaring, ‘We will not sing the anthem that has dishonored us, but we will sing the one that has honored us.’” Just as Black freedom fighters demanded this country give the “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” that has been denied to us, the Black National Anthem testifies to our collective power to make that promise real. Realizing justice and equality for all people, the song proclaims, is what it means to be “true to our God, true to our native land.” Contrasted with a song written by an enslaver who dreamed of prosperity for “freemen,” there should be no doubt over which song actually “includes EVERYONE.”

Musically, the difference between the two pieces couldn’t be starker. “The Star- Spangled Banner” is notoriously difficult to sing, even for professional singers. (There’s a reason why you can quickly google any number of stars making a hot mess of it.) The melody requires a large range; hearing everyone attempt “the rockets’ red glare” is often…unfortunate. It also contains a series of irregular intervals between notes, the source of much vocal fumbling. The result is a painful experience for everyone involved.

“Lift Every Voice,” however, is an absolute joy to sing. The range is squarely within most people’s musical abilities, and the runs helpfully guide you along. But its power is so much deeper than just ease of singing. The triumphant final lines ending each verse crest and soar in ways that make you emotionally believe that we can birth the just world of which we are singing. (For example: “Shadowed beneath thy hand, may we forever stand, true to our God, true to our native land.”) It also actually sounds like an anthem! The tonality of the “Star-Spangled Banner” is eerie and odd, and lines like “gave proof through the night that our flag was still there,” descend in ways that leave the singer feeling unsettled. “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” feels joyful coming out of your throat. As someone who loves singing—and has sung both pieces many, many times—to evaluate sheerly on the pleasure of song, there is no comparison.

Honestly, putting the tunes side by side, there’s a strong case to be made that “Lift Every Voice and Sing” should be our national anthem. It wasn’t written by an enslaver, it’s musically superior, and the lyrics are more universally relatable than memories of a battle none of us know anything about. If that’s what we were debating, I could understand people’s anger: Folk are attached to traditions. But what Matt Gaetz and company were so angered by wasn’t replacing “The Star-Spangled Banner,” with “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” it was the very inclusion of the Black National Anthem at all.

Their rage is just another echo of the white supremacy that has fought any public inclusion of Black people in wider culture. It’s the same anger that yelled about school integration or Harry Belafonte kissing a white woman. Whether it’s genuine structural changes, like electing our first Black President, or symbolic changes, like Misty Copeland dancing in the American Ballet Theatre, visible signs of Blackness have always made and continue to make people angry. But the truth is, Black leadership and culture have consistently served as America’s prophetic conscience—the voice calling this nation to live out the values its founding left unfulfilled. If the purpose of a national anthem is to remind a country of our deepest purpose—an aspirational yearning for who we might be—that music should not come from an enslaver but from those who have labored so all people can be free.