Very interesting piece. Thirty-four years ago, back in 1986 when Harlem was an all-black space rather than the substantially gentrified space is has become, I spent three or four months making the rounds of Harlem's jazz clubs, playing jam sessions and sitting in with bands: Tippy Larkin, Jimmy "Preacher" Robins, Jackie Soul, and others. There were a couple of other white musicians on various bandstands, including sax player Jim Holibaugh. The music was exceptional, and the musicians, all of them somewhat older than me, were exceptionally generous. I had relatively little cultural power compared with Tony; I wasn't a bandleader--although I was hired by Preacher to play a gig at a club on 125th St. (We followed jazz violinist Regina Carter.) What strikes me, and saddens me, about your piece is what feels like an almost cringe-inducing level of racial self-consciousness on Tony's part. Rather than dwelling at peace with who he is, he seems to be fleeing inwardly. This may be because he, unlike me and through no real fault of his own, is a de facto part of the gentrification of Harlem. He's presiding over the bandstand. Maybe that's why he's anxious. I wrote an essay about my experience, btw. https://medium.com/@asgussow_69031/keep-on-with-it-a-young-white-musicians-harlem-debut-1a309b320a63