This Juneteenth was unlike any I’ve ever experienced.
In an evening that defied description, we had the distinct and humbling honor of hosting an intimate gathering with none other than the legendary soprano, Kathleen Battle — a woman whose voice has, for decades, echoed the legacy of Black excellence across the world’s most revered stages. To witness her perform in such an intimate setting was to witness something sacred.
But what made the night truly unforgettable wasn’t just the music — it was the spirit that filled the room.
We were joined by some of the most iconic Black opera singers of our time: Hilda Harris, Priscilla Baskerville, Cliff Smith, and many others whose voices not only shaped the world of opera, but carved out space in an art form that had long tried to silence them. As they sang — voices lifting in harmony, in sorrow, in triumph — I felt something stir deep within my spirit.
It was more than music. It was ancestral.
The sound felt like a call across generations — part healing balm, part victory cry. In that moment, I could feel our ancestors in the room with us. I could feel their pride, their presence, their power. The ones who toiled in the fields, who were denied agency and voice, who dreamed of freedom — they were with us. And this moment was for them.
For me, it was deeply personal. My father was a sharecropper in North Carolina — the son of people who survived the horrors of slavery and endured the quiet violence of Jim Crow. He used to tell stories of hardship, yes, but also of resilience, dignity, and hope. I carried those stories with me into that room. I felt him there. I felt all of them there — those whose courage made our existence, our voices, our joy possible.
This was not just an event. It was a spiritual reckoning. A moment of profound remembrance and collective power. A reminder of the richness of our culture and the strength of our endurance.
We, as Black Americans, have turned pain into beauty, limitation into brilliance. And still — we rise, we sing, we soar.
To Rachel and to Kathleen: thank you. For your vision. For your generosity. For holding space for something eternal to unfold — especially on Juneteenth.
I am honored. I am grateful. And I am forever changed.
– Patricia Conner, Legacy Club NYC
