I’ll be honest: I didn’t take my arts requirement because I had some deep appreciation for the arts. I took it because I needed a class, and fast. Like a lot of UCSB students, I was crashing multiple lectures, refreshing GOLD like it was my full-time job, and just hoping something would stick.
BL ST 14: History of Jazz was the class that gave me an add code. At the time, it felt like a backup plan. It didn’t stay that way for long. Walking into the class for the first time, I didn’t expect much. As someone whose playlists are dominated by mainstream pop, jazz felt distant; almost intimidating. But over the quarter, that completely changed. What started as a scheduling fix turned into one of the most meaningful academic experiences I’ve had at UCSB.
The class didn’t just teach me about music, it taught me how to listen. We traced the roots of jazz from New Orleans to Chicago to New York, following not just the evolution of sound, but the movement of culture, people, and history.
Jazz wasn’t just music; it was migration, resistance, identity, and innovation all at once. It made me realize that so much of what we casually listen to today: pop, R&B, even elements of hip-hop, are built on foundations that artists have been shaping for generations.
Right alongside that history, we also learned about the people who shaped it and that was just as impactful. Names I had maybe heard in passing suddenly had real stories behind them, but what really stayed with me were the women who are so often left out of mainstream conversations.
Ma Rainey, known as the “Mother of the Blues,” wasn’t just performing; she was laying the foundation for so much of what jazz and popular music would become. Her music was bold, expressive, and unapologetic, even touching on themes of sexuality and identity in ways that felt far ahead of her time.
Then there was Josephine Baker, who took jazz beyond the U.S. and turned it into a global cultural force. She wasn’t just an entertainer, she was a performer, activist, and even a spy during World War II. Learning about her made me realize how deeply intertwined art and politics can be, and how artists can use their platforms in ways that go far beyond performance.
Both of them reshaped what it meant to be a woman in music and their influence is still present in ways we don’t always recognize.
One of the most unexpected parts of the class was the community it created. I met people from majors I would probably never interact with otherwise: history, data science, biology, economics. It reminded me that arts classes are one of the few spaces on campus where everyone ends up in the same room, not because they have to for their major, but because they’re exploring something new.
There’s something really special about that. We also worked on a group project where we created a short film related to the history of jazz. Seeing how different groups interpreted the same broad theme was honestly one of the coolest parts.
Some focused on cultural storytelling, others on musical analysis, and some got really experimental with visuals and narrative. It showed me that there isn’t just one way to engage with art or history, there are endless ways to interpret it, and each perspective adds something valuable.
And then there was Jeffrey’s Jazz Coffeehouse. As part of the class, we had to attend live jazz performances there. At first, it felt like just another requirement to check off.
But sitting in that space, actually listening to live music, not through headphones, not in the background, but intentionally was a completely different experience. It slows everything down. It made me pay attention in a way I’m not used to in my day-to-day life. It also made me realize how rare that kind of presence is.
The impact of the class didn’t stop when the quarter ended. Over spring break, I was stuck on a 10-hour flight and decided to rewatch Sinners. The first time I saw it, I thought it was good. The second time, after taking BL ST 14, it felt like I was watching a completely different film.
Every scene, every line of dialogue, every creative choice felt rooted in a deeper historical and cultural context that I hadn’t fully understood before. I wasn’t just watching the story, I was recognizing the influences behind it. That shift in perspective is exactly why the arts requirement matters.
It’s easy to see GEs as boxes to check, especially when you’re balancing major requirements, internships, and everything else UCSB throws at you. But classes like this do something different. They don’t just give you information; they change the way you see the world. They make you more aware, more curious, and honestly, more thoughtful about the media you consume every day.
The arts requirement isn’t just about taking a random class outside your major. It’s about stepping into a space that challenges how you think, introduces you to people you wouldn’t normally meet, and exposes you to ideas you didn’t even know you were missing. I didn’t plan to take a jazz class. But I’m really glad I did.
