The Drum That Traveled 5,000 Miles

Photocollage by me

Every family has a few items that somehow outlive generations — tucked in drawers, wrapped in cloth, stored in closets, yet carrying far more than their weight in memory.

For my family, it’s a drum.

Hand-decorated with triangles cut from magazines and other colorful papers, it's a doumbeleki made of clay. It was brought from Asia Minor by my grandfather as he fled during the persecutions of Greeks in the late Ottoman Empire — and carried all the way to America, where it continued to echo across dance floors, living rooms, and now, four generations of our family.

In this latest piece, I share the story of that drum. Not just how it got here, but what it came to mean — to my grandfather, my mother, and eventually, to me.

It’s not just about music. It’s about migration, memory, and the quieter forms of inheritance we often overlook — rhythm, resilience, and a sense of who we are, even when the world tries to shake it loose.

You can read the full piece here.

Warmly,

Barbara