Совет Нового Орлеана почестил 75-летнего дирижера хора Диллард-университета, возглавлявшего коллектив полвека

In the half-century that S. Carver Davenport has led the Dillard University Concert Choir, he has taught thousands of students, traveled across the South, visited countless colleges, churches and grand auditoriums and performed for two sitting presidents.  Still, his favorite spot is behind his piano in his classroom. There, he has inspired and developed the small historically Black university's best singers since 1975, pulling musical selections from a range of genres and eras and singing one or two measures at a time over and over at evening practices until perfection. “All these years, I have seen how the students are passionate about singing... and how they take what and how I teach to heart,” said Davenport, 75. “I see how they engage with the audience and how they recruit other students to be part of a singing organization that doesn’t necessarily sing what they hear on social media. “I see how much they want to showcase their talent and to display the love that they now have for this kind of music.” But his work has always been about more than the songs. 'Safe spaces' Moniqua Osbey met Davenport in 2009. Four years after Hurricane Katrina, Osbey found herself back in New Orleans living in a shelter for homeless domestic violence survivors with her two toddlers. When she was accepted to Dillard, she moved her young family into on-campus housing. Not everyone was supportive of that, she said. One professor told Osbey she could no longer bring her children to class, citing a policy she had implemented when she worked in university administration before Osbey enrolled. Another professor, she recalled, told her it was “unbecoming” to have a single mom on campus and thought her presence would “influence other students negatively.” “Dr. Davenport, when I told him about it, he was very disappointed and upset because he felt the complete opposite,” Osbey said. “He felt that if people saw a young, single mother on campus with her kids turning her life around, that would encourage young mothers to continue their education.” She joined the choir to fulfill an academic requirement. But the choir, and Davenport, became her family. First, Davenport would watch her young children — 3 and 4 years old at the time — when Osbey was in class. Eventually, everyone in the choir got involved. Other students who lived on campus would babysit in their dorm rooms and when someone who lived off campus offered help, Davenport would let them use his office to watch the kids. And he didn't stop there.  Between practices and performances, Davenport first allowed Osbey to bring her children to evening choir rehearsals. Then, as the university moved to phase out on-campus family housing, Davenport successfully lobbied Dillard’s then-president, Marvalene Hughes, to let Osbey stay. He pushed university officials to allow her to continue to catch the campus shuttle with her children when she needed it and made sure she could access the theater department's laundry facilities. “All of these safe spaces, he created,” she said. Davenport is still like a grandfather to her children who, as adults, still call him “Pawpaw.” When she unexpectedly went into labor with her third child eight years ago, Davenport got to the hospital before her family could. He cut the umbilical cord. This spring, the New Orleans City Council honored him as the longest-tenured choral director at any HBCU in the nation, and voted unanimously to name the intersection of Gentilly Boulevard and Allen Street near campus the Dr. S.C. Davenport Honorary Intersection. “Dr. Davenport has elevated the university's music program to national and international recognition,” Council Member Eugene Green said at a council meeting earlier this year. “Through his leadership, mentorship and artistry, he has shaped generations of students and left a lasting imprint on the cultural fabric of New Orleans.” Current and former students talk about how Davenport helped them find housing, guided their career paths and even gave them money to eat. His has been the name-drop that got them in the door to be considered for jobs and internships. On his advice, some pursued master's and doctorate degrees. And at least once, he has taught a mother and child duo a generation apart. ‘An extraordinary talent’ But in the end, he always brings them back to the music. “I listen to recordings from freshman year of me singing versus how I sound now, and Doc has completely transformed my whole way of singing,” said Andreus Lowry, a senior choir member who called the choir his second home. “My voice, my breathing, everything.... I've grown in every aspect.” Dillard President Monique Guillory — the sixth president since Davenport's tenure began — called him an “institution” at the university and an “extraordinary talent.” “His students understand and appreciate the high standards he expects of them because he exemplifies those standards himself in everything he does — no excuses and no exceptions,” she wrote in a statement. “For five decades, Dr. Davenport has not simply led our choir; he has helped shape the lives of generations of Dillard students and contributed immeasurably to the cultural and musical legacy of this University. His impact will resonate at Dillard for generations to come.” For Davenport, the honors are heartening. But what keeps him there after so many years is the family he has built with his students. In his early years at Dillard, Davenport, who started teaching at 25, said he was like a brother to many students. But that was 50 years ago. “I was old enough to be their brother, then their father, now their grandfather and perhaps, in some cases, their great-grandfather,” he said. “I smile about that often.” It gives him the sense of purpose he needs to continue.