to BE or not to BOP
Memoirs by Dizzy Gillespie
with Al Fraser (1979), pp. 500-502.

[These are the final seven paragraphs in this 500+ page book.]

In 1976, I received an invitation from the National Endowment fur the Arts to serve on the "jazz, folk, ethnic section" of their musical advisory council. I accepted the invitation, but not without serious questions about officially separating musicians, not by color but by culture, into those who played European-derived symphonic music and those who didn't. Obvious, though partially hidden, economic discrimination against jazz artists is involved. The United States National Endowment for the Arts, in 1978, reportedly plans to spend $13,700,000 for music programs. Only $640,000 of this would be used to support "jazz," loosely defined. Symphony orchestras and opera, on the other band, would receive over $10,000,000. The music has progressed beyond that now. We're playing with symphony orchestras, television, movies, clubs, concert halls. The educational system is gonna be great too. That is something I'm going to get into with Gil Fuller. We're preparing studies now with cassettes, thirty-minute lessons, teaching our music, what happened and why.

The first thing as far as the jazz artist is concerned is to complete raising the respect of the jazz musician to the level of a classical musician or concert artist. I'm gonna get into that field shortly, have all of my compositions scored for symphony orchestra and quartet, and play all over the world with it. No one is doing that as extensively as I plan on doing it, and I am qualified. I've paid my dues. That will pull our music up. That will put another notch in the triumph of our music. And the classical orchestras need it. They're in the red all the time, but when we play with one, it gets in the black.

Why doesn't America dig jazz and raise it to the proper height? I don't like to accuse America of being, racist, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it is a racist country. Jazz was created by blacks in the United States and for America to truly appreciate our music and to put it on the plane that it deserves would mean elevating the creators of our music, who happen to be black—to put them on a level above the musical contribution of the white citizenry. Rhythm is the thing; we have it and that's why we prevail in the music—not just because we're black—but because of our experience. So I'm not accusing anyone of anything, just talking about the circumstances that exist. Racism has always been the drawback. America doesn't want to give blacks full credit for creating this music and for being the chief practitioners of this art. That has been the trouble. That's why rock 'n roll music didn't go too well in America until the Beatles came along, The Beatles copied our black music, and then the whites in the United States copied the Beatles. They had it all the time, right here under their noses, and wouldn't do anything about it. The United States could take a step toward leading' the world in art and human relations just by accepting the gift of jazz, which has spread from its own culture all over the world.

Our music is spreading more and more. You go to places now you never heard of before jazz is getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Jazz artists are more well known than the politicians of the country--not just this country. So they are statesmen. They are worId statesmen, these jazz artists, I said, when I heard that first they were talking about a baseball team going to Cuba from the major leagues in the United States to play against the Cubans, I could just see what would happen. When a guy, the pitcher, would throw a hard fast one up against the batter's chin to brush him back from the plate, there would be pandemonium. I said, "No, that's not the way it's supposed to be," And then I started thinking in terms of cementing relations between the U.S. and Cuba on an artistic level, of playing with, instead of against. It's a whole lotta difference in competing against and doing something in the spirit of co-operation. And that's the best way. We went to Cuba and did it, after President Carter lifted the ban on travel to that country, and it worked beautifully. Right now I'm trying to get the United States and Cuba to co-operate in sponsoring a concert at which I would play, the proceeds of which would toward building a school in Cuba, a living monument to Chano Pozo.

I performed at the Carter White House in November, 1977, along with Sarah Vaughan and Earl Hines. The President was very cordial and expressed great appreciation for our music. I heard he intends to raise support for our music to a level on par with music in the European classical tradition. President Carter has the makings of a great humanitarian.

That's the way I would like to be remembered, as a humanitarian I because it must be something besides music that has let me stay here this long when all of my colleagues are dead. My main influence on whatever we'll have as a historical account must be something else because God has let me stay here this long, and most of my contemporaries Charlie Parker, Clifford Brown, Lester Young, Bud Powell, Oscar Pettiford, Charlie Christian, Fats Navarro, Tadd Dameron—are gone. Most of them are outta here. So maybe my role in music is just a stepping stone to a higher role. The highest role is the role in the service of humanity, and if I can make that, then I'll be happy. When I breathe the last time, it'll be a happy breath.