Jonathan is engaging the world through music.

When wars erupt between rival drug gangs, policemen sometimes block off Vigario’s entrance to keep the violence inside, and in the aftermath, victorious drug lords monitor who can enter and leave. Yet residents cross this threshold daily to work, to buy groceries, and now—as part of the Afro Reggae cultural group—to perform in Rio’s elite neighborhoods and at performance venues across the world.

In 1993, policemen stormed Vigario Geral and murdered 21 innocent people. A group of young men from Vigario and surrounding neighborhoods then took an unprecedented step: they decided to respond to violence with music. Thus began the Afro Reggae revolution. Leaders organized drumming workshops in a vacant lot. They then convinced outside musicians to venture into the favela to teach young people to sing and play the drums. Drumming became a physical presence in the favela, first in the streets and then in a community center open 24-hours a day. Now, 15 years later, hundreds of young members from Vigario study dance, theater, and percussion. Afro Reggae bands have toured internationally, from Carnegie Hall to European venues, playing a mix of funk, reggae, and rap. The movement’s leaders conduct workshops with policemen in Rio, sex workers in Calcutta, and at-risk students in London on how to confront violence with innovation. Leaders insist that in a place defined by violence and a flourishing drug trade, providing kids with alternative ways of living will create enduring change.

Language and Tin Cans

José Junior, a former cab driver who helped found Afro Reggae, and Anderson Sa, a singer in Afro Reggae’s main band, say building a movement is about language and persuasion. “It’s through sound that you bring kids into your world,” Junior explained. “What’s power today? Communication.” Kids in Vigario know that entry-level drug trafficking pays far more than the minimum wage of $176 per month, and the local drug gang provides a support network in a place too often ignored by the city government. The traffickers in Vigario offer protection from rival drug gangs and lend families money for medicine and emergencies.

 Anderson and Junior took on a different form of leadership. They learned the language of the boardroom and of the street, managing to convince the Ford Foundation to give Afro Reggae money to get off the ground, while attracting kids’ attention by wearing expensive clothing and talking about music and cars.

“It’s about bringing kids into our group and taking them out of the favela,” Anderson explained. “The favela is a closed world. When you take them out of here, they discover new worlds.”

But the movement does not provide kids with fancy sneakers or a permanent path out of the favela. Leaders hope that by attracting seven-year-olds to drumming workshops and encouraging teenagers to stay and teach, they can change external perceptions of the favela while improving life inside. A drummer hired by O Rappa, a popular Brazilian band, returned to Vigario a few years later to start a band for younger kids. He called it Afro Lata—the tin can band—because kids learned to play on tin cans when there were not enough drums to go around. Through bands, dance classes, and a theater troupe that performs shows about violence and AIDS, Afro Reggae offers kids alternatives to drug trafficking and idleness as well as a safer, more reliable support network.

The Right to Come and Go

For Jonathan, the son of a drug trafficker, joining Afro Reggae immediately set him apart from his friends, many of whom are now dead or risking their lives daily in the drug trade. Afro Reggae requires its members to stay in school and gives them a sense of security beyond physical protection.

As Roseli, an animated young woman who was drawn to Afro Reggae after hearing the noise from the community center, recalled, “I used to spend a lot of time in the doorway. Now, I walk down the street and talk to anyone.” Although some teenagers receive stipends for teaching younger kids, Roseli does not talk about Afro Reggae as a job. She believes that belonging to Afro Reggae means having a place to go each afternoon and knowing where to run when violence erupts. It means venturing outside of her house and outside the favela and speaking with confidence and looking people in the eye.