Every movement is built by many hands.
The Conductor Wall is our living tribute to every person who has ever moved someone forward – seen a gift before it was fully formed, opened a door, shared a skill, told the truth or simply refused to let someone give up.
Conductors come in every form.
They are grandmothers who teach you to sing before you know what singing means. Teachers who hear something in your voice and dare you to trust it. Neighbors who introduce you to artists who look like you so you can finally see yourself. Mentors who open doors you did not know existed. Friends who stay when staying is hard.
The original Underground Railroad moved because of conductors. People who risked everything to move others forward. TMUR exists in that same tradition and we believe every community has conductors who deserve to be named and honored.
This wall is for them.
Want to include a photo of your conductor? Email it to hello@themodernundergroundrailroad.com with the subject line: Conductor Photo – [Name]
Our Conductors
Mary Ann – “Granny”
Nominated by Michele Renee Bankole – Founder, The Modern Underground Railroad
Some people change your life by what they say, Granny changed mine by how she lived.
Mary Ann was my grandmother – and my first voice teacher. Not in a formal sense. She never handed me scales or assigned repertoire. She taught me by singing. By directing our church choir with the kind of authority that came from somewhere deeper that training. By showing up – in her church, in her community, in every room she entered with intention, purpose, and grace.
Granny was many things to many people. What she was to me was irreplaceable.
She had two things she always told me.
“Nobody will beg you to sing.”
And: “Don’t get up there showboating.”
She saw my gifts before I fully understood I had them. She refused to let me waste them or misuse them. That is what conductors do. They see you clearly and hold you to the standard of what they see.
The Modern Underground Railroad exists because of many hands. But the first hands that shaped this railroad belonged to Granny.
This wall is for her. And for every conductor like her – the ones who never asked for credit, never sought a spotlight, and changed everything anyway.
Rest well, Granny. The railroad is running. 🌟
