Songs of Protest: How “Mississippi Goddam” Turned the Tide on Civil Rights

Written by Tiana Woodard

Music is one of society’s best teachers. In Songs of Protest, writers analyze some of music’s greatest hits, using their findings to make sense of the world around them.

The tattered remains of the 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham, Alabama, where four black schoolgirls’ lives were claimed.

The peaceful house at 2332 Margaret Walker Alexander Drive, where a bullet drove through civil rights activist Medgar Evers’ heart.

Such images flashed through singer and pianist Nina Simone’s mind as she sat before the piano at center stage, in a state of contemplative silence. But much to the dismay and shock of the white audience before her, she’d soon fill this soundless void with the riveting, audacious jives of a song that would solidify her spot as one of America’s greatest civil rights activists.

On March 21, 1964, ‘High Priestess of Soul’ Nina Simone first performed the historical gem “Mississippi Goddam” at famous Carnegie Hall. In less than five minutes, the jazz-turned classical pianist managed to eloquently highlight the trials and tribulations that blacks have silently endured since taking their first steps onto New World soil in the early seventeenth century.

“Mississippi Goddam” opens the conversation on civil rights with a simple yet powerful statement:

“Alabama’s got me so upset,

Tennessee’s made me lose my rest

And everybody knows about Mississippi Goddam!”

A black native of Tyron, North Carolina, Nina Simone, born Eunice Kathleen Waymon, was no stranger to the plight of her fellow African-Americans. And although the severity of the song’s subject matter prevented her from performing it in the South, it didn’t prevent her from shedding light on the social injustices of Jim Crow while in the North.

In “Mississippi Goddam’s” opening lyrics, Simone alludes to two tragedies that had shaken the civil rights movement to its core not even a year before: the 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham and the brutal assassination of Medgar Evers, a NAACP state field secretary, by a Klansman in the driveway of his quiet Mississippi home. The mention of Tennessee doesn’t refer to a particular moment in its racist history, but the Volunteer state was the site of many incidents that contributed to the turbulent fight for civil rights.

Even during sobering performances like “Mississippi Goddam,” the High Priestess of Soul manages to slide in a few comments to the driving, fast-paced show tune’s brevity. At first listen, her commentary seems to serve no other purpose than to showcase her energetic, captivating stage presence. However, these asides hold just as much lyrical significance as the lyrics of “Mississippi Goddam’s.” Considering all of the topics that the musical genius throws into the song’s political dialogue, Simone’s most potent remark precedes the its second verse:

“This is a show tune, but the show hasn’t been written for it yet…”

With this statement, Simone’s utter frustration with the country’s current turmoil takes a more contemplative turn. It is in these lyrics that we can fully gauge her hopes for America’s future. Further down the road, Simone wishes for a political climate that will finally treat blacks as equals — a political climate in which songs such as “Mississippi Goddam” will only serve as a remnant of the past.

Immediately following her comments, Simone highlights the abuses that African-Americans face during their fight for equality with lines such as “School children sitting in jail” and “They try to say it’s a communist plot.” But it’s in the song’s third verse where Simone’s frustration comes to its climax:

“Yes, you lied to me all these years
You told me to wash and clean my ears
And talk real fine just like a lady
And you'd stop calling me Sister Sadie”

Simone’s supporting vocals respond to this emotional declaration with the phrase, “Do it slow!” The simple command echoes throughout the whole song, intended to mock those who prefer gradual change over immediate desegregation.

But as the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments still fail to pull their weight nearly a century after their introduction, Simone knows all too well that the black community can’t afford to wait any longer for true equality. With millions of black lives on the line, she makes a final plea to her audience:

“You don't have to live next to me
Just give me my equality

Everybody knows about Mississippi
Everybody knows about Alabama
Everybody knows about Mississippi goddam, that's it!”

When interviewed by Jet magazine, Simone commented that “Mississippi Goddam” ruined her career. As producers became disinterested in her politically-charged music, Simone left her music career behind and fled to Barbados in 1970. Only coaxing from producers and fans could pull her out from hiding, as she performed from time to time until her death in 2003. No matter how she viewed her success, Simone did accomplish something exceptional: she finally inserted the black experience into a musical realm which never had reserved a place for it before.

Songs of ProtestAfterglow ATXOctober 1, 2018tiana woodard