I think he was what Donna Hicks would call a true Dignity Agent.
Having left school at the age of 13 to become a street musician in Dublin—a ‘busker’—he essentially continued in that role for the next 43 years, though his stage shifted from Grafton Street in Dublin to pubs, clubs, movie sets, Carnegie Hall and arenas all over the world. But he always went back to play at smaller venues and to Grafton Street for the annual Christmas Busk he helped establish—raising money to end homelessness. An interviewer once asked him if he regretted not having more schooling and he replied no—he thought being curious was the most important thing and if you can be someone who stays curious…you can set yourself on a good path.
Being curious is core to creating a culture of Dignity, and the one action you can always take that reliably gets you to a better place during a heated conversation or a difficult relationship. Glen’s curiosity as a musician, and as a person, only seemed to grow through the years. During an April interview, he said that the common thread running through his songs was the complications of relationships of all kinds, including the one with yourself and your beliefs.
Julie Feeney, a fellow musician, said in a tribute to Glen on RTÉ Radio in Dublin last week “I distinctly remember talking to him in a dressing room backstage” one of the few times they met, “where his face was searching [as he was talking to me] for common ground, because we didn’t make the same kind of music. He taught me so much watching him, he probably didn’t like whatever I did, but you could tell he really wanted to find a connection point—that was so much of who he was.” He collaborated with all kinds of musicians, the known and the unknown—showing up as if each collaboration was the best he could have hope for.
One of my great regrets is not seeing Glen Hansard perform his magic live. It was on my list, but I figured there was time. I suppose the upside is that people didn’t have to hear me singing along in the crowd at the top of my lungs (my husband says that my singing voice is my kryptonite). Instead, I’ll have to make do with listening to his songs, and strive harder to apply more of how he lived to the work of advancing dignity: being more present with everyone in my path, being more curious in my relationships, and especially during difficult conversations.
In his New Yorker article about Glen last week, Hanif Abdurraqib wrote “The busker sells a miracle and a myth.” Glen Hansard seemed to be both, and I think it’s possible for us to create a better reality living the example he left behind.
What does dignity actually look like in our lives?
We believe some of the best answers to that question are found in stories—in ordinary moments when someone chose to see another person, listen with curiosity, extend kindness, cross a divide, or simply remind someone that they mattered.
-Alicia Burke
