Trump is gone. Help me put the spotlight back on underrepresented people and communities. | Helen Ubiñas

I’ve been meaning to share some big news about a small Philadelphia nonprofit, Beyond the Bars.

Earlier this month, the music education program, based out of West Philly, won the Lewis Prize for Music: a game-changing grant to the tune of $500,000.

To borrow an old phrase from our new president, that’s a big effing deal for a five-year-old grassroots organization that’s mostly been run by volunteers.

I was excited to report the win. Who didn’t need to read about good guys finishing first, right?

But then, like many things these last four years, I had to put off the column to focus on the latest dumpster fire raging in Washington. The first time, it was for an insurrection at the Capitol, and then again when we held our breaths to see if we could get past Wednesday without incident.

“After the inauguration … ,” I promised codirector Matthew Kerr, who was beyond gracious every time I delayed writing about the program.

But what else have we missed out on while distracted by the national blaze?

We’ve only just begun to deal with all the damage done by the Trump presidency, but this was part of it: already underrepresented people and communities increasingly neglected while we were held hostage by an air-sucking aspiring autocrat.

So many times, while trying to balance the stories that needed to be amplified in our own backyard with the daily national disasters that couldn’t be ignored, I was struck by the unfairness.

Imagine if we had put even a portion of the collective energy and effort into our communities?

Imagine where we might be in four years if we do that now?

Maybe, just maybe, we might do more than shrug off the deaths of 500 Philadelphians last year and more than 30 so far in 2021, a homicide rate already higher than this time last year.

Even with new leadership, we’re not done with the distractions. But maybe they will be less urgent as we inch ever so slowly to relief from the pandemic.

I tried to keep up, but I know I missed a lot. This is where you come in: Call me: 215-854-5943. Email me at hubinas@inquirer.com. Find me on Twitter. Tell me what we missed.

For now, let me tell you more about Beyond the Bars.

The program is co-directed by two super passionate guys, Kerr and Christopher Thornton, and based out of the Community Education Center. (They’ve gone virtual since COVID.) It started after Kerr, a Philly teacher who is currently at Belmont Charter School, was invited in 2015 by the mother of a former student to teach music inside the prison where she worked.

The experience was enriching but eye-opening, and only magnified for both men how little access talented young people — behind and beyond bars — have to music education.

The organization now runs a handful of programs throughout Philly that are open to middle and high school students and include a variety of musical and career planning opportunities: instrument lessons and audio, engineering and songwriting instruction that regularly culminate in performances.

And yet, both Kerr and Thornton are clear about one thing: The program, in prisons and in the community, is less about churning out musicians and more about using music to help young people impacted by violence to express themselves.

They plan to use the prize, which they won alongside three other organizations across the country that also received $500,000 each, to grow and expand with more programs and paid teachers.

“It is going to allow us to essentially pass this down to our students someday,” Thornton said.

Aquil Shakur, 18, is one of those students. I caught up with Shakur between classes at Northern Vermont University. He conceded that initially he wasn’t sold on a music program, but now he’s one of Beyond the Bars’ student teachers and thinking of switching his major from business to education because of his experience.

“It really made me realize how important it is for so many young people in Philadelphia to have an outlet, no matter what it is. …To put them in one room where everyone might be doing their own thing, but then come together to create something bigger.”

Godesh Morales, 21, was introduced to Beyond the Bars in 2018 while at Philadelphia Industrial Correctional Center, a city jail.

“They found me at the worst time of my life,” he recalled.

Morales is back home and working on his own music career now, but he shared a story that illustrated the power of the program.

While Morales was incarcerated, Kerr taught him how to play Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man.” Morales would studiously practice the song on a guitar during class, but back in his cell he had to get creative.

He noticed a bleach stain on his prison jumpsuit resembled the strings on a guitar, so he began strumming the fabric between lessons.

It struck me as both inspiring and heartbreaking, a stark reminder of how people confined in one manner or another can creatively find a way to push beyond their circumstances.

But it was a reminder, too, of all the stories still out there that reveal so much more about who we really are, and what we’re capable of.

Stories that more than ever deserve to be told.