Monk

Responding to a question regarding his stance on Black Power, Thelonious Monk stated, “‘There’s no reason why I should go through that Black Power shit now. I guess everybody in New York had to do that, right? Because every block is a different town.’” (Kelley 19). Monk’s response is clearly indicative of his upbringing in the divided, diverse, and violent San Juan Hill neighborhood. During Monk’s early life, he witnessed firsthand the ubiquitous racism and violence of the notorious San Juan Hill– not just between whites and blacks, but between members of the black community as well. Black immigrants of the west indies often clashed with southern immigrants or with their northern counterparts. Thelonious refers to this aspect of his community when he says that ‘every block is a different town’. Growing up in San Juan, most young people had to associate with their own kind for solidarity and strength, epitomized by the community center where young Thelonious spent  much of his childhood years. Thelonious certainly gained much from his community at San Juan, including introductions to fellow young musicians and even musical mentors Simon Wolf and Alberta Simmons (Kelley). As well, Thelonious and his family were rare in the fact that they were accepted by both the southern black community and the west indian community. These influences would make quite an impression on Thelonious and his music: his inclusion of Caribbean rhythms and European melodies coupled with the stride and ragtime base, reveal the extent of their influence.  
Thelonious, with his sharp mind and creativity, preferred to transcend the normative racial dialogue in favor of an intense individualism. He crafted his own, extremely unique music and style from various influences, channelling the dissonant cultures of San Juan in both his trademark eccentricism and his music (Lecture 2/28). Monk personified the beauty of this dissonance, identifying as an individual rather than part of a brand or movement. This approach allowed Monk to feel at home with the beatniks and hipsters of the time, who were drawn to his avant-garde charisma. Monk’s music and the style and mentality it embodied became a hip stance to take, and led to the popularity of a certain intellectual attitude (Lecture 2/28). In this way, Monk helped the bohemian culture flourish, a culture which prized individualism and creativity. A new wave of intellectuals identified with Monk’s singular and quirksome behavior. A new persona for blacks and whites alike was emerging, and Monk’s music became an irremovable part of its indentity, evidenced by the nickname the beatniks held for him: The High Priest of Bebop (Kelley 232).
Given his lifelong experience with discrimination, beginning with the San Juan Hill riots and continuing to his 1958 unlawful arrest and beating (and beyond), it would be easy to understand if Monk harbored racial resentment or prejudice. However, it is precisely in his complete lack of doing so that Monk’s true wisdom is revealed. Monk preferred, unlike peers such as Miles Davis, to abstain from the public racial dialogue, focusing instead on his music, his family, and his community (Lecture 2/26). The community which Monk’s music inspired and sustained was the method with which he transcended the racial division, by bringing together in his music the chaotic dissonance reflective of the diversity of his own community, and in the process creating a new one.