Tag Archives: women in music

Dismissed for singing in solidarity with the Palestinian people: an interview with Amy Blanding

On the unceded, ancestral territory of the Lheidli T’enneh lives a 41-year-old singer-songwriter. She is queer, she is disabled, she’s a mother and she has a dog with a special name (we’ll get to that later). Her name is Amy Blanding, and until recently she worked as a Director of Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, and Accessibility at the Northern Health Authority (“NHA”) in British Columbia, Canada.

After performing her song, Sunbirds, back in April of 2024, while wearing a t-shirt with a watermelon image on it, some members of her community sent a complaint to her employers urging them to take action against her.

Shortly after, Amy was removed from her potition at the NHA. Instead of letting her oppressors break her, Amy went into the studio to record her song, and with its release she started gathering funds for a pro-peace, non-profit organisation as well as raising awareness about the cause of the Palestinian people and all people suffering from the conflicts and terrors brought onto them by arms manufacturers and warmongering politicians around the world.

In short, Amy is fighting back. And she was kind enough to take the time to tell us her story.


Halldór Kristínarson: Thank you for participating and being open to answering a few questions. First off, for those out there who are not familiar, can you tell us a little bit about your background, and how you got into creating music?

Amy Blanding: I was born in the four corners region of Navajo, Hopi, Ute, and Zuni territory (Colorado, USA) and raised on the red shores of Epekwitk – Mi’kmaq territory (PEI, Canada). I am a white, disabled, queer woman, mother, equity specialist, and musician. I grew up singing in choirs, playing trumpet in band, and exposed to music through my parents. Music was always a part of my life, but it didn‘t become something I pursued professionally until I moved to Lheidli T‘enneh/Prince George (in British Columbia, Canada) where I now live. I co-founded a band called Black Spruce Bog and got my first exposure to touring, recording, playing shows, and eventually writing my own music and singing lead. When that band broke up, I set out on my own to continue evolving my sound and my voice. So in music industry terms, I‘m late to the game (I‘m 41 years old now). But I love it, I feel like my music holds a depth of experience and context that could only have been curated over time.

HK: Has your music always been conscious, or political? Some people say that music and activism should be separated, others believe the two are inseperable as the ought to be. What is your take on this? I can only imagine you have slightly more direct, very impactful take on this theme in light of recently being fired from your job due to you performing a song in solidarity with the Palestinian people.

AB: I write music about what I see around me, what I witness, and what I feel utterly compelled to speak out about. My music is personal and absolutely political – it has always addressed the world that I live in and the stories of the people I meet. I do see art and activism as being inextricably linked. The post racial reckoning, pandemic year of 2020 was a turning point for my music though. I gave birth to my son and I had to decide what my legacy was going to be with this platform my privilege had afforded me. If I was going to take up space in the music world, I knew I had to use it as a catalyst to move us closer to collective liberation. I owe that to my son.

HK: Can you also tell us a bit more about how that happened, the termination of your work because of a song/performance? The job you had sounds very inclusive and justice-minded, can you explain how such a workplace would fire someone for simply singing a song in solidarity with oppressed people? For an outsider looking in, it sounds baffling.

AB: As an insider looking in, it‘s still baffling! Last April I played a song I wrote called Sunbirds at a community concert – the song is about the genocide in Palestine. I also wore a watermelon shirt from wearthepeace.com at the concert‘s dress rehearsal. A group of local Zionists wrote a defamatory and factually incorrect letter to my employer claiming that my actions were Anti-Semitic, Pro-Hamas, jihadist, bigoted, etc. This letter was taken at face-value with no due process or inquiry, and I was removed from my role as Director of Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, and Accessibility at the Northern Health Authority. This amounts to defamation, a wrongful dismissal, and a violation of my right to freedom of expression in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. I have filed two lawsuits, against my former employer and the community members, and we will likely be going to trial in early 2026. You can watch the press conference here.

HK: After being fired for singing your song, you didn‘t let that break you, but instead you pushed onwards and went straight into the recording studio. Can you tell me what fueled you, what gave you strength to fight back and take something as negative as being fired for your art and turning it into a song release with benefits going to aid for Gaza?

AB: The ultimate aim of facsism, imperialism, capitalism, Zionism, all systems of oppression is to stifle our voices, and either wear us out or scare us into staying silent. If the goal of these systems and institutions is to silence the voices of the people, then the best way to retaliate is to deny them that.

I was told that Sunbirds was too political to sing. And then when I sang it I lost my job. I‘m regularly harrassed online and in-person by Zionists. I‘m told by friends and acquaintences that I should settle with Northern Health, take the money and move on. But this is how harmful people continue to hold power, and oppressive cycles remain unbroken. So instead, I decided to not only record and release Sunbirds, but to use it as a fundraiser for the very organization whose watermelon shirt got me in trouble in the first place, an organization sending humanitarian aid directly to Gaza. The song has gone viral now  – people are talking about what happened to me and vocalizing their outrage that our Charter rights can be so easily undermined. Sunbirds is a catalyst for change, and I feel incredibly grateful to be a part of the movement.

HK: What inspires you to write a lyric or a melody? These are turbulent times and I can only imagine there is a lot happening that is fuelling your creative spirits? Are there certain issues that your more passionate about than others?

AB: I am always listening for a word or a statement that captures what I am feeling or seeing in the world in a new and unique way. I am a storyteller, a seeker of beauty and a reflection of the humanity all around me. Always with the goal of collective liberation. Musically and sonically I am inspired by other artists, by the land I live on, and just jamming out with my friends on my mandolin!

HK: What musicians, activists, or people in general, have inspired you and your music career? And how does the protest music scene look like in your neck of the woods? Are there a lot of artists in your area using their voice for good? Any music recommendations you‘d like to throw our way?

AB: I stand on the shoulders of so many giants. I‘ve recently felt in great community with fellow outspoken healthcare leaders like Vash Ebbadi-Cook, Dr. Yipeng Ge, Dr. Deidre Nunan, and Sean Tucker; I am continuously learning from Catherine Frazee, Bisan Owda, Kelly Hayes, Mariame Kaba, Francesca Albanese, Harsha Walia, Alice Wong, Adrienne Maree Brown, the Wet‘suwet‘en Land Defenders, and the Comrades from Independent Jewish Voices (IJV), Jewish Voices for Peace (JVP), Migrant Rights Network, and Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJ). I‘m inspired by the music of Sinead O‘Connor, Billy Bragg, Allison Russell, The Tragically Hip. And you absolutely have to check out Kym Gouchie, Rachelle Van Zanten, Sam Tudor, Ride-by-Night, Chloe Davidson, Rae Spoon, Tanya Tagaq, Nemahsis, Kaia Kater – there are so many great musicians doing good work in Canada. I wish there were more artists speaking out, but those that are inspire me daily.

HK: What is next on the horizon for you? Musically or activism wise? Can we expect a new album soon?

AB: BDS all day every day! It‘s working, we must keep talking about Palestine (and Sudan, and the Congo).

I will be in Afterlife Studio (Vancouver) in June to record my next album. My hope is to have that record out by the end of the summer. I‘ll be touring and playing music festivals all spring and summer. I‘d love to tour in Iceland, so hit me up if you know how to make that happen!

I‘m also focusing energy on curating spaces for art to happen that are accessible, slow, and deliberately, consciously designed in a different way than the industry standard. If we are to truly move toward collective liberation, we need to guarantee that all voices and perspectives are present and contributing to that vision. Art spaces need disabled voices, older voices, Indigenous voices. I see my job as helping to curate these spaces and removing access barriers to get the right people in the door or on the stage.

HK: Finally, in an Instagram post, where you thank your fans and people around the world for supporting the release of Sunbirds, you‘re accompanied by a very handsome furry guy, named Seeger. I think the Shouts audience would very much like to confirm where that name comes from.

AB: This may be my favorite interview question of all time! Seeger is my amazing rescue dog. She came to me 6 days after the death of protest folk legend Peter Seeger. I grew up listening to Pete Seeger‘s music, and my Dad (also a musician) actually shared the stage with him once. They even wrote a couple letters back and forth. Pete is an icon so it was only fitting that I name my best girl after him.

HK: Thank you so much for participating. Anything else you‘d like to shout from the rooftops?

AB: Thanks so much for the chance to share some of my story! Feel free to reach out, I love connecting with Comrades across the globe. Solidarity!

Spanish-American singer-songwriter, Victoria Canal, displays her opinion of Trump at the end of her Kennedy Center performance

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Paris Palomas’ Labour is the feminist anthem women have been waiting for

In recent years, music hasn’t served women. Thousands of songs get released yearly, but only few of them make a positive impact on women’s lives. The majority, especially rap music, made it their goal to objectify women. It became the norm for a song to discuss a woman’s body or insult a woman. Clubs played such songs. The rise of TikTok brought forth a new wave in how music spread. But this wave didn’t leave a positive impact on women’s lives. Instead, TikTok music became a genre criticized by many. A song was reduced to 20 seconds and its worth was based on whether it went viral or not. That is until Paris Paloma released a new song.

In March 2023, Paloma started teasing a song that was different from the majority of songs found on TikTok. The rallying cry in the song, titled “Labour”, was a hint at what was to come. A foreshadowing of sorts. Labour gradually spread all over TikTok but for the right reasons. It wasn’t a song made to objectify women, but rather, a song that was made to unite them. It was a feminist battle cry.

The chorus made the rounds on TikTok, and suddenly you found yourself memorizing the lyrics. Women found it easy to learn the words Paloma sang because they were inspired by their own lives.

“All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid / Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant / Just an appendage, live to attend him / So that he never lifts a finger / 24∕7, baby machine / So he can live out his picket fence dreams / It’s not an act of love if you make her / You make me do too much labour” 

These words moved women all over the globe and the rest of the lyrics transcended any barriers language could possibly create. Suddenly, women came forth to share the message included in the reality of all women. A reality filled with misogyny, domestic violence, sexual violence, and other things that no one wishes to understand from a young age.

Paloma’s song didn’t just unite women, it changed the way TikTok songs were perceived. It wasn’t a song made to move bodies, it was made to move minds – which it did. The success Labour found only increased after the full version was released. The song passed all of Paloma’s expectations, and suddenly it had a life of its own. “It’s become something that’s a lot bigger than me,” the Derbyshire-born artist told NME in an interview. 

The rallying cry in Labour isn’t the only interesting part, but the lyrics themselves hold a kind of power that women need. These lyrics were shouted by women from everywhere as they faced the same wall with barbed wires. It’s a wall made of systemic gender inequality, sexual violence, physical violence, objectification, and many more terrors that form shadows in womanhood. It’s a wall that stands between women and freedom, between women and safety. Women’s movements have been making cracks in this wall for centuries, but it’s not broken yet. Paloma’s Labour made its own cracks in this wall as women kept shouting the song.

Labour has been embraced by women no matter where they are from or how old they are, because the nightmares women live have no language or age restrictions. Paloma’s powerful lyrics can be seen from many roads, and every road leads to the same end. A destination where women have a song that understands the ugly side of being a woman. This side is forced upon women, and Paloma is one more woman who knows this well. 

One of these roads is the simple one where the lyrics can be looked at and understood at first glance because women’s pain doesn’t need a dictionary. Another road is that of double meanings, and this adds to the beauty of Labour. Women’s abuse has been normalized to the point where it has layers, and Paloma captures these layers. The word “labour” doesn’t just mean the tasks women are forced to do as if their only worth is cleaning and cooking. It also implies how women’s worth is reduced based on whether they are capable of childbirth or not. In Egypt, many women face verbal abuse because they are infertile. The same women might go through divorce because their husbands care only about having a child.

@parispalomaofficial

Hearing all of you, together, singing this song at a time like this, is the most moving and powerful thing. I love you all and we have power in our shared voices. #women #feminism #patriarchy #womanhood #misogyny #toomuchlabour #womensrights

♬ LABOUR – the cacophony – Paris Paloma

The double meanings continue in “Just an appendage, live to attend him / So that he never lifts a finger.” Many men get with women not because of love, but because they are looking for someone to serve them. They don’t want to lift a finger. The other heartbreaking meaning is that many women have to serve men or else they will be abused. Both meanings are true no matter how ugly they are, and women are tired of experiencing them.

“Women are just doing more and more, and men are not doing any more than they’ve ever done. There’s still expectation for women to have this very traditional archaic role as a caregiver and a servant and a wife and a mother and a homemaker,but women have had enough of existing to serve other people,” Paloma said in an interview with Big Issue.

Labour documented women’s experiences in around four minutes, but these experiences have been around for ages. This is why the song feels like it carries years of ancestral rage. It’s an anthem that can fit in any era. It isn’t weakened by the restrictions of time. It isn’t just a song.

Labour is a lot more. It’s a shout, a rallying cry, an anthem, a song representing female rage, and many more things. All these things brought women together and formed a community where pain is shared because women feel it together. It is a song that can inspire change, and Paloma believes that music can cause change. 

“I feel like a small part in a big community that has grown around my music. I’m incredibly humbled by it, and watching how people take and grow a song that you feel is important – how could that not inspire social change?” Paloma said in an interview with Notion.

But Paloma wants the song to be about more than female rage. “I think I want them [people] to feel heard, or held, and whether they’re listening to something like ‘Labour’ and it’s something so angry, I want them to feel like their anger is valid. If it’s something else, I want them to feel comforted, if it makes them cry I want them to feel held while they do that. I hope that my music can serve as a vehicle for a protective sphere in which to feel any emotions that need to be felt,” she said in her NME interview.

Women are angry, but they are more than that, and that anger “doesn’t need to be romanticised.” It doesn’t need to be romanticized because women are more than their anger. They are hopeful, dreamy, courageous, beautiful, understanding, united, honest, loving, caring, amazing, and many more qualities. Qualities that aren’t appreciated by men and the patriarchal society that we live in. 

Despite common belief, Labour is also directed at men. 

“I am so moved at how empowered so many women feel through my music, and also how reflective a lot of men are when they listen to it, it’s the ideal response,” Paloma said.

“It [making change] starts with holding men and boys accountable for this behaviour, and making it less normalised and making them sort of aware that their actions or lack thereof have consequences. You don’t get to be in a relationship and treat another person like less than a human being and then be blindsided when that person wants to end that relationship.”

“I’ve got several messages from men who’ve realized [from the song] that they should be doing better in relationships,” Paloma says. “That’s amazing. Because I keep getting asked, ‘What can we do to solve this?’ And it’s not up to women: That’s the whole point. It’s up to men to listen and to take action,” Paloma told Billboard.

“Men should be picking up the slack.”

Even if the wall built by our patriarchal society won’t be brought down by Labour, and even if men don’t listen to Paloma’s cry, it’s enough that women have this song. It’s enough if this song makes cracks in that barbed wall instead of bringing it down.

Paloma’s concerts shifted after Labour’s release. They became a place where this community created by the song could thrive. Hundreds of women found a safe space in Paloma’s concerts to shout as loud as they wanted. Then, a new version of Labour was necessary to imitate how the chorus sounded like as hundreds of women shouted it. 

A year after the release of Labour, Paloma asked her followers to send her recordings of them singing the song, and women from different backgrounds and ages met her request. Paloma then re-recorded the song, but this time her voice was accompanied by the voices of hundreds of women. The new version was titled “Labour (The Cacophony)” and it was part of Paloma’s Cacophony album. 

If Labour was powerful in the first version, it became a lot better in the new version. Labour (The Cacophony) was the last chapter in a beautiful tale. The sounds of hundreds of women from all over the world coming together to recreate this feminist anthem. The different ages portrayed the truth about being a woman: the cycle of abuse and trauma starts from a very young age. 

Another truth regarding Labour is that Paloma is the perfect artist to create such a song. With her background in fine art and history, her lyricism is unique and powerful. The singer-songwriter previously shared that Labour draws from Madeline Miller’s Circe. The gothic and powerful feelings in the song are probably inspired by how Florence Welch and Hozier influenced her. 

Just like Labour (The Cacophony) made many voices become one, Paloma’s songs bring many genres together. 

“I don’t feel very pigeonholed, and when I think about my genre, I think about so many words like ‘indie’, ‘folk’, ‘alternative’, ‘singer-songwriter’… I get ‘witch-pop’ sometimes. I’m looking forward to not being so prescribed to any single one thing,” she told NME.

Along with not prescribing Paloma to one genre, we can’t tie her to just Labour. She has other songs with strong themes and many of them talk about female experiences. 

In “last woman on earth,” Paloma sings about how women aren’t safe even when they are dead and buried.

“That song [“last woman on earth”] is an entire metaphor for the way that people talk about women, view them and treat them. It’s so harrowing that that doesn’t even end in their death at all, whether it’s people like Marilyn Monroe or Amy Winehouse; they will continue to be exploited. It’s something that a lot of women and queer people are becoming incredibly vocal about, and the lack of tolerance that there should be for that. On a personal level, it’s the part of the album that deals with the role that patriarchal violence has played in stunting my personal growth. There’s just so much pain in that song that shouldn’t have to be there,” Paloma told DIY Magazine.

While in “boys, bugs and men” Paloma describes the ugly truth of how many men find delight in women’s pain and having power over them, or as Paloma described it “the quiet sadism of misogyny.”

But Paloma’s songs aren’t just about the ugly side of being a woman, there are ones about the beauty of it too such as “knitting song” which discusses female friendships. While “as good a reason” is “a song about the power of women learning from each other” as Paloma described it.

A trend in Paloma’s body of work is that all her songs are intertwined. “I think of my songs informing each other now rather than being specific. It’s now this considered thing which all have relationships to each other and inform each other. My next songs stand on the shoulders of my previous songs,” she said in her interview with Dork.

Just like Labour feels eternal, so does Paloma’s success. The song reached the Top 30 of the UK singles chart, but this is just the beginning for someone with Paloma’s talent, especially since she only started releasing songs towards the end of 2020. Even if Paloma won’t have any other song reach Labour’s success, it might be enough for her that she created a space for women to be heard.

Paris Paloma created the feminist anthem women have been looking for.