Here’s an unreleased song about not apologizing for myself.
I recently wrote an article for Modern Daily Knitting about the “Now You See Us” exhibition at Tate Britain. Part of what I say there is that it was women who were unapologetic about being professional paid artists who made it possible for me to go to art school. For the longest time, male artists and much of the general public thought these women should stick to the “polite arts” like needlework, landscape watercolors, and miniatures. No “Real Art” for them (whatever “Real Art” is)!
Well, that didn’t happen, because women will find a way!
I walked right into the art departments at Davidson College and Moravian University and made sculpture for a course at Bread Loaf School of English and no one said, “Hey! Wait a minute, girl, no women allowed. Put down those paints or else!” I owe the women in “Now You See Us” and so many more women artists a debt of gratitude for my art practice. Thank you, sisters!
This song celebrates saying “no” to the unasked for opinions of others and “yes” to yourself. It celebrates protecting our freedom of expression, our freedom to be who we want, to make what we want, and to conduct our lives without fear or censure.
I have been a great apologizer and conflict-avoider. I would really rather go hide under some blankets than stick up for myself (though I will gladly stick up for someone I love). Back when I moved to England and changed my life all around, I had a lot of letters and comments about my decision from people I barely knew or only knew through touring. Some of these communiques were downright shocking. As someone who would prefer to climb into a rabbit hole than tell someone else what to do with their life, I have been stunned (and not in a good way) by people hungry to give me their opinion about how I should conduct my life and my music, how I should sing and play my banjo, and what I should wear. Wow. Really tiring.
And that’s the danger of not spending your life under blankets or down a rabbit hole. Making your work public and leading a life in the public eye (even in my small way) is a risk. How do really famous people even cope? How do people trying to smash glass ceilings do it?
When I lost my father to leukemia in 2016, my tendency to apologize for everything about myself seriously broke down. And that was a good thing. That was a strange gift from Dad. Overwhelming grief meant that I separated the wheat from the chaff in my life and just stuck with the folks and opinions that mattered to me. So far, so good, though I do backslide into saying I’m sorry a bit too much.
So, this is my anthem for Angelica Kauffman and Vanessa Bell, for Julian of Norwich and Simone de Beauvoir, for Taylor Swift and Rachel Carson. For me, and, if it’s useful to you, for you, too. Knit the crown you want. Paint the hat that fits you today! It’s your party, it’s your story. Your life.
Paint brushes, pens, and knitting needles into the fray!
Unapologetically, your friend,
Jeni
My everyday adventures.
Thank you for being here with me for the music, for the stories, and for the adventures.
You’ll find the lyrics to my new song below. Paid subscribers (or my new song club, as I call it) receive a link to download my new song or songs each month.
See you in September. In the meantime, I post my adventures and lots of movies (“reels”) about my music, sewing, knitting, dolls, walks, and museum visits on Instagram and Facebook. I think it’s unbelievable that these little movie-making programs live on the web – this coming from someone who unearthed her parent’s Super 8 camera from the attic when it was REALLY expensive to buy and develop film. I make a new movie nearly every day and I’m loving it.
Not Gonna Wear that Crown
by Jeni Hankins © 2017
I’m not gonna wear that crown
not gonna let you tear me down
knock me off my feet and talk to me that way.
Not gonna do what you say.
Not gonna let you have your day.
No, I’m not gonna wear that crown
no matter what you say.
You think you’ve figured me out.
You know what I’m all about,
but you don’t know me.
You only know what you see
and I’m not gonna wear that crown.
I’m not gonna wear that crown,
so you’d better not come ‘round,
tell me who I am and what I’m doing wrong.
Not gonna listen to your talk.
Not gonna walk the way you walk.
No, I’m not gonna wear that crown.
I’m gonna sing my own song.
Why don’t you take that crown?
Maybe you can shop it down in town.
Find someone who’ll wear it for your fun.
But I’m not that girl.
I won’t wear it for the world.
I’m not gonna wear that crown
no matter what I’ve done.
Performance from 18 July 2018. Concert at Bromborough Folk Club, Wirral, UK.
Lee Smith (author of Fair and Tender Ladies) says, "Jeni's stunningly original music is as old as the hills, yet brand new at the same time. The spare, simple arrangements not only showcase her musical talents but also highlight the brilliant writing; for Jeni is a true poet and a born storyteller, through and through – many of these songs contain whole novels."
Not Gonna Wear That Crown