We were lucky to catch up with Millie Ahearn recently and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Millie, thanks for joining us today. We’d love to hear about a project that you’ve worked on that’s meant a lot to you.

In the summer of 2021, I recorded my debut album ‘Octagyn’ in London. The album is a distillation of the thoughts and feelings of a neurodivergent queer musician navigating extended isolation during the COVID-19 pandemic, forging a space for both introspection and flamboyance to coalesce. ‘Octagyn’ exists as an expression of rawness, embracing the erratic and uncertain lines woven between queerness and jazz and establishing processes of healing.

As the pandemic worsened, so did my long-held experiences with OCD and my feelings of gender confusion. In order to stay afloat, I began to re-establish an active relationship with myself, allowing my inner queer child to reimagine their future. As this altered the understanding of my past, I found freedom in frailty, embracing the vulnerability inherant to redefining the self. With no social space to explore my queerest dreams, I looked to the future, chanelling that anger and bitterness into joy and hope. Adopting the pronouns ‘they’ and ‘them’ (and, later, ‘she’) became a commitment to myself, the building blocks for a renewed existence.

Exploring all these weird and wonderful ideas in an isolated space produced a fervent energy that crystallised into the production of ‘Octagyn,’ each track coming to represent a new stage of the healing process. The word ‘Octagyn’ combines two words of significance to me: ‘octagon’ – from my obsession with the number 8 – and ‘oxygen’ – the search for release. Mental suffocation has been an experience shared most globally during the COVID-19 pandemic, a time where extended isolation, social breakdown and collective trauma has shown the neurotypical world what they’ve been missing. The world has been searching for relief, for oxygen. For many, thus has begun a time of self-reflection; for me, experiencing movement in stasis, progressing inward, and unlocking a truer version of the self seems the most perfect way to describe the birthing queer experience.

A situation seemingly so poisonous had gifted me the opportunity to recalibrate. That is what this album stands for, and I’m proud that we were able to create it.

Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.

My name is Millie, and I am a multi-instrumentalist musician born and raised in South London, UK. Having directed big bands, neo-soul collectives and contemporary rock-classical ensembles in England, I relocated to Chicago in 2021 to move closer to the source of jazz and centralize my sound. I seek to channel the lineage of the great trumpet masters in pursuit of a unique voice, investing in the language and soul of Freddie Hubbard, Clifford Brown, Woody Shaw, Lee Morgan and further. I am an active member of the Chicago jazz scene, in addition to my work as a teacher. I am also trans non-binary and use she/they pronouns.

My music houses the thoughts and feelings of a British non-binary musician navigating expressions of queerness in jazz. It focuses largely on transformation and the coming of the self into new life, my mission being to make my community feel seen and to transform collective pain into healing music. Communicating this with sincerity requires me to be surrounded by people whose music regularly touches and connects to others with great emotional strength. I use my music and performances as opportunities to educate audiences about the queer experience, and the most fulfilling moments of each night come when people tell me that they felt seen by the messages that the music communicated.

The stories of my trans elders are crucial stories to be told, as they detail the journey of not only queer liberation but also of the role of queer people of colour in the development of American music, fashion, film and wider culture. To have had the privilege of mentorship with musicians whose inspiration and bravery have demonstrably altered the public perception of marginalized groups has produced seismic shifts in how successfully I can convey these crucial messages. My favourite bandleaders – the likes of esperanza spalding, Ambrose Akinmusire, Marques Carroll, Herbie Hancock – are musicians whom I see to be at the very forefront of both musical and social innovation, the latter holding such a position for over 60 years.

I’m currently looking forward to an upcoming recording project that will pay homage to my roots and to the expression of the human self as a multitude; following that, a more far-reaching project will dive deep into the life and legacy of trans icon Marsha “Pay It No Mind” Johnson.

Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?

Non-male musicians continue to navigate the challenge of creating spaces for themselves to thrive in jazz environments. I am able to speak on the isolating experience of playing at male-dominated jam sessions as an openly trans femme person, in addition to playing on the wedding and corporate scene with booking agents who refuse to challenge their own transphobia. Dressing authentically on such gigs is incredibly important to me, not only for my own sense of identity, but equally to signal to the other queer and/or female members of the band that they have a safe space on the gig. Learning to fight my corner in those situations is a skill that has taken no small time to develop.

Unfortunately, getting to that point is an unsafe path. It is unsafe enough to walk down the street as a trans person, let alone exist on a stage. Be it slurs, physical violence, degrading and demeaning behaviour, or any combination of the above, finding beauty in the slow moments becomes a practice of self-care and emotional survival. I am extremely grateful for having been able to channel these experiences into music, but queerphobic acts remain draining and exhausting at best. Choosing every day to continue to show up for ourselves as a community is an act of collective strength of which I am endlessly proud. Without the resilience of our ancestors, specifically queer people of colour, America would be experiencing nowhere near the richness and fulness of human experience as it currently does. It is from their determination that we draw our strength.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative?

Inspiration can take time! Finding time to enter a creative headspace whilst living in a ‘rise and grind’ economy can be challenging and disheartening. Our minds can spark at random moments, and we want to be ready to receive those thoughts with a fresh and eager mind. Without this, non-creative people wouldn’t have any music to listen to, no theatres to attend, no books to read, no shows to watch… think how different your at-home COVID-19 experience would have been without any of those things. Our work is predicated on the time required to create, a process that to many non-creative people can look idle and languorous. But trust me, we’re working!

Contact Info:

• Website: www.millietrumpet.com
• Instagram: @millie_trumpet
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/millietrumpet
• Youtube: www.youtube.com/@millie_trumpet

Image Credits
Seeger Gray, Faith Decker, Harvey Tillis, Chirag Bachani, & McKenna Troy.