Life in service

Jo Kay’s instinct for service finds a natural home in Sacred Harp, a community of individuals who serve one another in countless ways – singing, taking minutes, finding new venues, holding singing schools, organising conventions, and being rewarded by receiving service from others in return.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the ways in which we, as communities and individuals, serve each other.

My Mum’s grandmother worked in service. Somewhere in the North East, ‘up at the big house’. Middleton Lodge it was called, and at 21 years old Florence was the scullery maid there. The second lowest-ranking female servant.

115 years later, connected only by a string of DNA, here I am, training as a death doula. ‘Doula’ is originally a Greek word, and I’ve seen it politely interpreted as meaning ‘a woman who serves’ or ‘a servant’. It’s basically a non-medical support role, in service to a dying person.

The words ‘servant’ and ‘service’ – so close, but such contrary implications. I imagine Florence’s life as a servant might have been less charming than Downton would have us believe.

But to be ‘in service’ to someone… to ‘serve your community’. That sounds beautiful, full of heart.

In a BBC Radio programme, Our Sacred Harp, a phrase Tim Eriksen said really struck me: “…I think we’re looking oftentimes for an opportunity to work for each other. To work together to do something good.” 

Oh, I thought. Yes, I see now. That’s what I’m doing. I am looking for opportunities to serve my community.

When I began singing, the notes were black blobs all over the page, so I could sing only what I could hear and copy. About eight years on, the notes mean a bit more now – I know which line I’m looking at, I know the names of the shapes and that the white ones are longer than the black ones. So you know, leaps and bounds. But unless I’ve got a strong alto in my ear I flounder. It makes me feel annoyingly needy.

From early on, I instinctively looked to compensate – to become an asset in other areas, if not as a singer. I looked for ways to serve. I took the minutes, I found channels to share our dates more consistently, I organised singings in unique venues just for the lark. Nowt special. Like everyone else, I just applied the skills I had to where I could be useful. Because without Matthew or Tom or Lucy to key, without Sophie or Leilai singing in my ear, without John booking the room and lugging boxes of books, without everyone who turns up each week to lend their voice and create that incredible oxytocin & serotonin cocktail we’re all addicted to, I cannot sing.

We’re drawing closer to this year’s UK Sacred Harp Convention. Manchester are organising it. We are all people who serve. At each planning meeting, people bring their skills to the table, offering them up: “Can this be of service?”

The discovery of what we’re each good at has been glorious. Sharing our not so much ‘hidden’ as ‘not previously discussed’ talents. My fellow singers are creative. Film-makers, painters, leatherworkers, embroiderers, photographers, writers, content creators. They are organisers. Some are strong on the big picture, some have exquisite attention to detail. We have team players and self starters. Those good with words, those good with numbers. Those only too happy to lend expensive equipment or tap their contacts for what we need help with.

Of course it’s not just my Manchester pals. Throughout my Sacred Harp community, I see people giving of themselves, finding ways to serve each other. Welcoming anxious newcomers at the door. Printing bookmarks to help learners. Teaching singing schools. Making incredible food to share. Washing up.

[A slight aside, I mentally wander off and ponder – are people in general kinder than I tend to assume? Or is there a higher than average proportion of kind people in Sacred Harp? Which comes first? Do kind people find kinship in the Sacred Harp community and stay, or does the kindness within the community bring out the best in people?]

I adore how we each bring what we have to the table (often literally – that fudge doesn’t make itself). We serve each other, and in return we receive abundantly – kindness, fun, solace, meaning, togetherness.

If you come to the Convention this September, I hope you will feel the love that has been poured into pulling it together. Bask in the warmth of this beautiful community of mutual service that we call home. Then fold thy wings and stay.

Jo Kay is the chair of the 29th UK Sacred Harp Convention, to be held at Stretford Public Hall, Greater Manchester, on 19-20 September 2026