Daniel “D-Ray” Ray is one of the many hardworking people behind Community Records, BAD OPERATION, Hey! Cafe and Coffee Roastery, and Sisters in Christ. D-Ray works with music to create a space of joyous retaliation within the oppressive systems of white supremacy, capitalism, and patriarchy. Living in the present with an awareness and respect for the past while dreaming of a livable future for all. D-Ray lives in Algiers with his partner Aisa and their three-year-old, Griffin.
PAPA GO PLAY MUSIC
I love being a father to the world. Or as I often try to phrase it, a parent, but our gender binary world sees me as male and therefore I happily accept the loving term of Papa. When my partner Aisa was pregnant with our child Griffin, I read this wonderful essay, “Fathering the World” by Tomas Moniz in Don’t Leave Your Friends Behind: Concrete Ways to Support Families in Social Justice Movements and Communities, that continues to inspire me every day. Essentially, the idea can be summed up as: Fathering is something all men do, whether we want to or not, whether we are prepared for it or not. So it is incumbent upon us to think through who we are and how we affect others, especially the children in our lives. After reading this, I realized that was a pretty accurate summation of how I’ve tried to navigate the world of indie music since I was 16 years old. Punk and DIY culture has always been presented to me as this idealistic world where everyone holds each other up for the benefit of the whole. I hadn’t thought about it this way before, but now I realize sometimes you are the parent and sometimes you need a parent.
Dan Fox told me that folks would probably be interested in hearing my perspective as both a touring musician and a father because both of those perspectives are lacking in previous issues. I am more than happy to share my story for the benefit of education but I suppose a good, perhaps obvious place to start is: I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. About anything. Ever. But I am committed to thinking that I might be wrong about anything and everything and prioritizing love over all, and those tenets usually lead me to some pretty eye-opening experiences about life and the world around me.
The Mourning We Leave
Wednesday, September 4, 2024. It’s 7 a.m. and I’m reading I Am One to our child Griffin while my partner Aisa watches me speak through tears. BAD OPERATION is about to embark on one of our biggest tours ever with Detroit punk ska legends The Suicide Machines, Japanese superstars HEY-SMITH, and our New Tone siblings and label mates, Kill Lincoln. However, there’s a huge part of me that doesn’t want to go. It’s such a privilege to be able to go on tour, but it takes a lot emotionally and logistically to leave. There’s only so much food I can prep for the house while I’m gone and there’s absolutely no way to help with daycare pick-up and drop-off from Buffalo. I speak for myself, but I feel like I can speak for the whole band when I say: I’m so thankful for all our partners and our family and our community of friends who make going on tour a possibility. Their love enables us to follow our personal calling instead of inhibiting it, and that is true love.
I Am One was inspired by a quote from the Dalai Lama: “Just as ripples spread out when a single pebble is dropped into water, the actions of individuals can have far-reaching effects.” This is exactly why we go but also why it’s so hard to leave. I want our music and presence to bring an everlasting joy and catharsis to people, bringing our beloved community of all people and all life closer together. Still, it is difficult not to get swept up in the moments I miss and the hardships I create while we’re away.
If you are a fellow touring parent reading this, I feel for you. It’s really tough to strike the balance between staying connected to home while also allowing the necessary space required for all of you to get through life while physically separated. If I had one piece of advice, it would be to make time every single day to pay honor to your family with correspondence. Whether it’s a text, phone call, postcard, video chat, or just a picture of some crappy roadside snack, it’s important for your mental health to tap in. Remember to respect all they do so you can take music’s hand and visit a world most people never even get the luxury of imagining.
Every night, somewhere between soundcheck and set time, I attempt to briefly return home via video chat. Depending on the venue, the reality of finding a quiet, secluded place with decent wifi to see my family is 50/50 at best. The first few days of tour, it’s always exciting and fun for Griffin to say hello to our guitar player, “Brian from the phone,” as well as whichever other members of the touring family are in close proximity. However, by about day five, the luster has worn off and the bit has gotten tired, as has all of our patience with the longing to be together. Whenever we stop at truck stops or coffee shops or whatever shops along the way, I’m always looking for some toy car or stuffed monster or handwoven blanket to bring home with me. It’s my way of collecting guideposts from these monumental moments of my musical life to make my family part of the experience as well. But often when I get home, I end up viewing them as some sort of compensation totems saying, “Please forgive me! Look! I thought about y’all the whole time!”
People keep telling me “it gets easier” when I’m lamenting about being tired or heartbroken by the act of parenting. I don’t know if that’s true, nor if I want it to be, because I feel like that would also mean I’ve lost something. Effort. Connection. Time. I’ve found that nothing about consciousness or existence tends to get “easier,” so why should caring for another human being, burning in the fire of consciousness, be the exception? Perhaps the sentiment is correct if we consider the “it” that gets easier is only that one specific complaint of the moment because yes, the issues run their course only to leave behind multiples of new conundrums to navigate. Such are the joyous pains of existence.
I never planned on being in a successful touring band in my late 30s. In fact, I’d all but hung up that hat in 2018 when All People disbanded, but there had always been the hope of having a musical career that fed both artistry and practicality. I also never planned on being a parent, but again, there is always hope. Around the same time hope gave us Griffin, it also gave us BAD OPERATION. I have been blessed with my two most desired things in life: a loving partnership and a fulfilling musical life.
Now on a semi-regular basis, I’m forced to choose between those two most beloved aspects of my life: my family and my artistry. Every time we go on tour, it certainly does not get easier. I’d say the sadness gets more concentrated. I used to worry and plan and cry for days before leaving. Now I get hit with a 900-pound ball of grief the morning we leave, especially because Griffin can now understand that I’m leaving for an extended period of time. “Bye bye! Later! Papa go play music with his friends!” I think the tears don’t just come from sadness, though. It’s also from a lot of appreciation for Aisa and Griff. For believing in what I do and understanding the positive impact I’m attempting to leave behind.
BAD OPERATION will be touring the Southeast with Jeff Rosenstock and Soul Glo from February 17 through 25 with a New Orleans show at Tipitina’s on February 18. They also tour Texas with the RX Bandits from March 27 to 30.
