Aisha Phoenix: Irresistible Smile

Irresistible Smile

I first heard "Ebony & Ivory" at your Bat Mitzvah.
You must have been 13 or 14 then.
I was so taken by your rendition
That I longed to hear the song again
Only to be disappointed, years later,
By an original that didn't sound like you.

At the moment you're walking slowly through my mind
With big shoes and baggy trousers trailing on the ground.
But what's pulling at me is your smile -
An irresistibly cheeky grin that takes over your face
And dares the world not to smile back.

I doubt it was a coincidence that you picked
"Ebony & Ivory" to sing back then,
Resonating, as it does, with your desire for peace and unity.
I can't imagine you seeking refuge in silence
If an injustice needed to be named.

Remember when you sat
Challenging Home Office movers and shakers
About UK race and equality policies?
Unperturbed, you spoke with that trademark confidence and eloquence
As your audience squirmed in their seats.

It was a very different audience in the nineties.
When "perfect harmony" cut through the quiet room
Your smile shone above rapturous applause.
Without even closing my eyes
I see that same smile.

Nancy Cranham: a rarity and a blessing

I have very vivid memories of Ester, the time we spent together on the heath, conversations (often rants against the injustice of the world) that we engaged in, and lots and lots of laughing.

She had a lot of guts. Every time someone at school was picked out by others to be taunted or humiliated for being different, Ester stood up for them. She always defended them, even whilst alone, even at the risk of facing abuse herself, and I admired her immensely and wished I had that much courage myself.

I remember that, like for many people, Ester's teenage years had their ups and downs, their dark periods. But what distinguished her from the rest was that at those points when others would have given in to what was bringing them down, Ester would suddenly appear incredibly strong, and it was these times that I have such clear memories of. She stood alone and sang to us all in assembly, with her powerful, wonderful voice.

She gave a moving and remarkable performance as Arthur Miller's Maggie that I will always remember.

When she was away for a longer period, we wrote letter after letter to each other, and she entertained me, encouraged me, and kept me healthily enraged at those injustices we'd sat raving about when together.

Ester was one of the strongest characters and strongest people I've ever known, she influenced me greatly at a time when knowing people like her was a rarity and a blessing, and could help shape the person you would become. She was an absolute star and I will always remember her with great love.