01x05 - Tom and Mary Morello

[bunniefuu]

* MTV

(birds chirping)

People sometimes ask me
how I was politicized.

And it was not when I
read Noam Chomsky at 17.

It was when I was
four years old,

I was in daycare in
Libertyville, Illinois.

There was an older kid at
the daycare who would name

call me and beat me up
almost on a daily basis.

One day I came home, my mom saw
that I was not feeling okay.

She said, what's going on?

I finally sort of told
her what was happening.

This kid was N-wording
me and I thought

that my mom was gonna
like sort it out.

And she sorted out in
a very different way.

She tells me about a
guy named Malcolm X.

She says Malcolm X
is a guy who says

that whenever there's bullying

or whenever there's racism,
you have to stand up to it.

She took my little brown hand

and made it into a
little brown fist

and then she gave
me something to say

like cr*cker a*s,
cr*cker punky sumbitch,

I had to memorize it
'cause I didn't know

what any of the
words were or meant.

And then she sent
me back to daycare.

And so I go and the kids on me,

but this time I go,
cr*cker a*s cr*cker.

I do not win those scuffle

but it causes a bigger to
do than on the other days

and I get to stand
smugly at the side

of the sink while the bully's
mouth is washed out with soap.

And I thought Mary Morello,

there might be something
to what she has to say.

I always said slug 'em.

(Tom laughs)

(strumming guitar starts)

(crowd cheers)

* I went down to
the grove oh yeah *

* Let souls of justice tremble

NEWS CASTER: More than 25,000
teachers in Los Angeles

won't be going to work today

after a breakdown
in contract talks.

This strike affects
more than 1,000 schools

and more the 600,000 students.

Let's go, we go and get
in the car, we drive down.

Okay.

You good, all right?

Growing up, mom was a
public high school teacher

and a union high school teacher.

We're on our way downtown
for me to play a rally

for the Los Angeles teacher's
union to are striking

for better lives
for their students

and justice in the
classroom for themselves.

You know, there was
a period of time

where I was playing dozens
if not hundreds of shows

a year that were activist
oriented, charity oriented.

Like somebody calls
up and they, you know

they need bail money
for some anarchists

that you can, you know, drive
over there and play a show.

Actually, this, I
reached out to them.

I reached out to them.

I called up and said,
how may I be of service?

One.

People are protesting NATO here.

It's an honor to stand with
you here to keep Walmart out.

The crimes that were
committed by Wall Street

are just that: crimes.

So put your fist up in
solidarity, everybody,
front to back.

We're in this together.

You have to use whatever
tools are at your disposal

and my tools happen to be
recording studios, guitars,

three chords and the truth.

One, two, three, sing.

(Rage Against the Machine's
"k*lling In The Name" begins)

(crowd cheers)

Hi, high on the list of best
guitarists of all times,

Tom Morello.

You take Chris Cornell,
Tom and the guys

of Rage Against the Machine
and what do you get?

The super group, Audioslave.

* Nail in my hand from creator

In order to change the world.

All you have to is walk out your
front door and just do it.

* Show me how to live

* No Hatred
f*ck Racists *

* Blank Faces
Time's Changin' *

* One Nation
Unification *

We play for those on the
lowest rungs of the ladder.

Those who do not have a
presidential candidate

who represents them.

Tom Morello, the heart
and soul and certainly

the intellect of this
musical protest movement.

TOM: Average everyday
ordinary people

stood up in their time

and made a difference
and we can too.

(crowd cheers)

Here she comes, ready or not.

All right, good to see you.

Good to see you,
thank you, Mary.

You know, one of the
things we had in common

was that we were both
teachers, high school teachers.

Yeah.

We had our own
sons in our school.

You had Tom in your
class though, didn't you?

Oh yeah, what's interesting
is we had the same life

and we have the
same kind of kids

and the same kind of grandkids.

Well here's a question,
so my mother never

told me to not listen to
something, just like really

controversial heavy
metal, whatever it was.

She never told me not
to listen to anything.

But when Tom was a kid,
if he started listening

to like really right
wing country music,

would you have said something?

Uh, well.

(all laugh)

VIRGINIA: That's
censorship, Mary.

DAVE: Yeah a little
censorship, yeah.

When I talked to Dr. Dre's mom,

their first record
was F the Police.

Well, f*ck the police yeah.

Oh okay, that's good.

I've heard it, I've heard it.

DAVE: That's what
separates you two.

(all laugh)

VIRGINIA: Mary
Morello was fearless.

I'm Mary Morello and f*ck
the Bush administration.

(crowd cheers)

VIRGINIA: She has
strong conviction

that every person
should be free.

I mean, I'm a communist,

I don't care if you
put it on there.

VIRGINIA: Mary has
fought for freedom

and justice her entire life.

If I went to a bar
right now with you guys

because I was doing an
interview about Mrs. Morello,

everyone would have a story.

In truth, I've never met
anyone quite like her.

VIRGINIA: Mary and I both have
sons that are the same age

and became famous
around the same time.

We never know where they are.

VIRGINIA: When your son
spends decades working

as a professional musician,

it affects your relationship
and requires adjustment,

whether you're
ready for it or not.

Mary's son, Tom, he had played
with Rage Against the Machine

and became synonymous
with protest music.

Even though I'd been hearing
Rage Against the Machine's

music for years,
I hadn't realized

that Tom came from a
long line of activists.

I was born in Ottawa, Illinois.

I was the first
child in the family.

It was the town where we
lived was called Marseilles.

It was a little
old town of 5,000.

We were free and we could ride
our bikes and play baseball.

I ice-skated and I played tennis

and I did all kinds of things.

My family was very pro-labor
and we had a big labor dispute.

I remember that somebody
along the Illinois River

got k*lled at one of them.

My grandpa and my dad
were pro-pro-labor.

You know it's not a good place
to leave if you're a radical.

I mean, they haven't come
after me, I've been lucky.

My dad, when we
were kids took us

all over the United States.

And after that, I was
interested in seeing the world.

I had to get a start, so I did.

She comes from a coal
mining, farming town

a town from which no one had
ever left until Mary Morello

as a single woman
in her twenties,

started traveling
the globe by herself

and just having adventures.

I went everywhere,

I've been around the
world on a freighter.

I enjoyed Japan and Deutschland.

I learned how to ski
in the German Alps.

I lived in Spain a year
and taught Spanish fliers

who were coming to
the U.S. to train.

I've done everything in my
life, I loved the world.

When Nirvana was over, I moved
back, Virginia and I moved

into the neighborhood that
was just down the street

from the Catholic school
I went to and only five

or six miles from the
neighborhood where I grew up.

I guess the hardest part was,
what do you do now, kind of?

How do you feel
about, you know, you?

And where are you headed
and you were sort of lost

I think at that moment.

Yeah.

Not for long though.

I thought I've got to do
something, I have to carry on.

JAKE: What's up everybody?

I'm in San Bernardino, at Cal
Jam where the Foo Fighters

are headlining tonight.

(rock guitar begins)

After Nirvana, I started
the Foo Fighters in 1994.

We've been playing together
for almost 26 years.

* Hop on the train
to nowhere baby *

And the Grammy goes
to Foo Fighters.

Foo Fighters.

(crowd cheers)

Somewhere along the
way I got married

and had three
beautiful daughters.

I've been at a band
since I was 16.

Now that I've been
doing this for so long,

my family's a part of it.

VIRGINIA: Hi, what's
up, how are you?

How'd it go at the gym?

How's your RV?

Look at it?

Yeah, isn't this rad?

I love it.

It's such a good little set up.

I love it, I know, I made
chocolate chip cookies.

Did you really, can I have one?

Yeah, sure.

Cal Jam's a great example
of my mother's relationship,

not only to me, but to my band
and our community of friends.

They're used to
seeing her backstage.

They're used to having real
conversations with her.

I remember going to
see my first concert

and I said, I'm going to do
that, mom, I'm gonna do that.

You are gonna see me
play at that place.

She's been all over the world,

touring with the Foo Fighters

and she's become a
friend of all of us.

Good seeing you.

(indistinct chatter)

Let's talk about African studies

and making your way to Kenya.

For a while, I was a foreign
student advisor at U of I.

Kenyans became my good friends,
well other people did too.

Like I was in love with
somebody from Ghana,

but we never could
have been together

because he was the
head of his tribe

and he would have had many
wives when he went home.

(techno beat begins)

I was in Shri, Kenya,
so I went to Kenya.

They had an organization called
teachers for East Africa.

I got to be in the
Aberdare Mountains

near Kurkira High School.

At night, they couldn't go
out for fear of the leopards.

In the trees.

Leap upon them.

And the elephants came down
and destroyed the villages

but in the daytime, you
were perfectly safe.

When my mom was first
teaching in Kenya,

she was just there to
teach but then she fell in

with the people who were
making Kenya's revolution

and that seemed like it was
more interesting to her.

(rock music begins)

We want an undiluted democracy

which means every
man, woman, and child

whether white, black, or
brown has equal rights.

My great uncle was Jomo Kenyatta

who led Kenya's independence
movement and so my dad,

he was very much part of
the anti-colonial movement.

Tom's father was a good
friend of my Kenyans I knew

from the U.S., he got his
college degree in the U.S.

My dad was an
ambassador to England

for eight years
and was responsible

for land redistribution
after independence in Kenya.

So when I went over there, I
met him and he's a cool guy.

So.

(man laughing)

(rails clacking)

I was carrying Tom when
his father and I separated.

So I went back to
the United States.

I was born in New York city.

I was born at West
142nd and Riverside

is where our little
apartment was.

My mom decided she was going
to raise me on her own.

My dad maintained his
life and career in Kenya.

I mean, we got along fine.

So.

She had me when she was 40.

At the time, that's
an unthinkable thing.

The single mom with a black kid

in the mid 60s in
the United States.

That, to me, seems
like a potentially

steep ladder to climb.

She just did what
she needed to do.

My mom actually
wore a wedding ring

having not been with
my dad for years.

It enabled her to have
to answer fewer questions

and build a life for us.

It wasn't easy for my mom

but I got to tell you,
she never complained.

She took to it pretty ferocious.

It was just me and her.

DAVE: That's in front
of grandma's house.

VIRGINIA: Nanny.
DAVE: I love granny's dress

right there.

VIRGINIA: Oh, that's cute.

Well, here's a
picture with Lisa.

This is my father, Jim.

Jim Grohl. I could do a good
impression of him if you want.

(man coughs)
It's spot on it.

It is. Just that sound.

That's the beginning
of every sentence.

I did that at his Memorial
and the whole audience went.

(man gasps)
(woman laughing)

He was a journalist.
Dad was a journalist

and a speech writer.

And, uh...

He could be the most
charming man in the world.

Yeah. He started out that way.

Yeah.
(man laughs)

Don't they all?

You know, my father was a
classically trained flautist

and he played in orchestras
and was accomplished.

He was incredibly talented

and had perfect pitch.

But I only saw him playing
instrument once in my life.

I just remember him

drinking a lot of
scotch one night

and sitting in his Eames
chair and playing the flute.

And I thought, wow,

I didn't really know
that you could do that.

But I think that he stopped
playing his instrument

because he didn't
have six hours a day

to practice it anymore.

So he didn't see it as
recreational at all.

There was a musician inside
him that I never got to know.

But I feel like
that sort of thing

was passed down to me

from him and my mother.

Tom wait, grab those
pictures right there.

Yup. Okay, let's see.

Well, here's picture number,

we got a couple
of pictures here.

This is me and
Mary Morello there.

I'm looking maybe
about four or something

and that's us,
that's our family.

That's my family growing
up, was the two of us

and I got a sharp
shirt on there.

You look nice with your hairdo.

(soft music)

My mom was looking
to settle down,

she got a public high
school teaching job.

I said, I want to
teach in a high school

'cause that's a good
way to raise a kid.

But I don't want to teach
in a good high school.

And with her global resume,

you think that would be easy.

You'd be wrong.

We looked at some high schools

up near the Wisconsin
border that were

good places for us to live.

The first place I
went for an interview,

they said we would
like you to teach here

but you can't live here.

Well forget that one.

Because we're black,

of course.

They were willing to
hire her as a teacher,

but because we were
an interracial family,

her with a half African kid,

they said that it's not going
to be cool if you live here.

So I went to where I raised him

and where I got my job.
TOM: Libertyville.

(rock music)

A challenge was,
once she got the job,

then we had to find
somewhere to live.

And so there was
apartment complex

right across from
the high school and-

That the mafia built.

And they were my friends.

The mafia guy down the street
gave us anything we wanted.

(laughs)

As you relay the story later on,

they had to go around
the apartment building

to ask permission of
the other residents

if it was okay
for an interracial
family to move there.

And how the real estate
agent, who was on our side,

sold our family
to the locals was,

they said, "It's this
lady and this black kid,

but he's not like
an American n*gro."

He's a Kenyan.
He's an exotic

African person.

* The things that I've loved
the things that I've lost *

* The things I've held
sacred that I've dropped *

That got us an apartment.

And that worked pretty
well until I was old enough

to date their daughters.

* I won't lie nor more
than you can bet *

And they could have
been King of Ghana

and that was not going to go
over in Libertyville, Illinois.

(laughing)

I think back, I was
aware of who they were.

I was aware that he was black
and that she was single.

So she was definitely in
anomaly in a town full of

dysfunctional nuclear families.

So growing up in Libertyville

certainly had that
idyllic Americana

kind of vibe

on the surface.

(soft guitar music)

Here, there was this
ingrained prejudice

that was not
necessarily malicious,

but kids were just raised
with their parents' opinions.

One day a guy came to
the door and asked,

"I'm looking to buy property
in the neighborhood,

but I hear there's a little
N word boy who lives here."

That's terrifying.

I'm in the house with, it's
and my mom in the house

and then someone you pinned
up Klan sh*t in her classroom.

What did we have in our garage?

A noose.

It was hard to be
black in the US.

It was more than one place.
And it still is.

As the only black kid
in all white town,

it was assumed that I was not
as smart as the other kids.

It was assumed that
I was deficient

in ways from the other kids
because I was different

and I never felt one bit of that

because of the confidence I had

from the love and
support I had in my home.

I knew as far as any of them.

I knew it was as good
as any one of them.

That was really what came from

my mom instilling
that confidence in me,

even giving a field
that was fertile

for which could've been a
lot of emotional dysfunction

for myself, I was able to
kind of ride through that

going, I'm fine with who I am.

Well, she talked about
Tom all the time.

I mean, we got to get that
right out in the open.

You couldn't have
a bigger advocate

as a mother or a human
than Mary is for Tom.

(soft music)

Mary Morello is a legendary
teacher in Libertyville.

I was not a kid that was
interested in school,

but I was interested
in going to her class.

She was influential because
she taught African studies

in an entirely white town.

And her perspective

was from a place that we
had never really heard,

because she'd been
all over the world.

But I remember at
the time thinking,

this is incredible
f*cking information.

Let me tell you, there
were some ups and downs

having your mom teach at the
high school that you attend.

Because my mom was not
always close lipped

about sort of our
family and stuff.

And and don't say what
you said in the book.

(laughs)
It's already in the-

I have not forgiven him.

Not forgiven me?

You're the one that announced
to the sophomore class about-

Well, don't say it.

Anatomical choices that you make

around birth for a male child.

(laughing)

And I'm like, "Mom!"

It was a scarring incident.

Tom was a couple years
younger and he was

a Dungeons and Dragons,
well-read thespian.

He was into the plays
and reading them books.

He's one of the more driven
people I've ever met.

I'm certain that

part of his drive and ambition

has to do with that
huge void that he felt.

Sometimes when I
think of his drive,

I want to abandon my kids.

(laughs)

To give them some f*cking drive.

My dad's presence loomed
large in our house growing up

even though he was not there.

In that, the photos
on the wall were of

African anti-colonial
revolutionary

from Kwame Nkrumah
to Jomo Kenyatta.

And that was my
father's presence

was there in that regard,
even though he was not

at any little league games.

Not until I got much older,
in my late 20s and 30s,

did I really sort of think about

the absence of my father and
what it meant to my life.

I've later reflected
on the fact that

no great art can be made
without a chip on your shoulder.

It was his absence
during my entire life

that made me think

this is a person that
maybe doesn't think

that I'm worth knowing.

And we'll see if
I'm worth knowing.

Then when I was practicing
eight hours a day,

there may have been
something in my subconscious

that was like, "I'm going
to do 30,000 hours of this

ad then we'll just see

what's up."

(building music)

(soft music)

I just remember sitting
down on the couch

and my mother telling us that

they were getting a divorce.

I was about six years old.

So I didn't really
understand what it meant.

But I mean, at that
point, my father

had been traveling
a lot, working.

He and I really didn't
have a close relationship.

After we were divorced,

there was a freedom
and then there just

wasn't tension in the house.

So I didn't suffer at all

afterwards.

My friends kept
saying, "Are you okay?"

Yes, I'm fine!

I was fine.

He was not there so

I could do what I
thought was best

for all of us.

I had a great mother.

She did a great job on her own.

(fans cheering)

A lot of my
generation's music is

sort of based on

this foundation
of a broken home.

And a lot of

people are inspired by that
pain when they're young.

I was raised in a home
by a single mother.

She's a public school teacher.

We didn't have much.

There were times where

the heat got turned off or
the phone got turned off

or whatever it was, just
trying to make ends meet.

And I look back at my childhood

and it was okay.

I never felt poor.

I never felt like I wanted more.

I don't play music because I'm

angry at anybody.

I f*cking love playing music.

Am I in the-

I'm just sort of sitting here.

Should I be somewhere else?

DAVE: It's a documentary.
That's how they work.

(laughing)

This is my very first

guitar.

I pronounced at 13 years old

that I wanted an
electric guitar.

And so, we went
down to Rigoni Music

in Libertyville, Illinois

and they showed me all the
guitars and some of them

were exciting Les
Paul's and some of them

were super cool
looking Explorers

and there was an Ovation
Breadwinner guitar

that was $700.

I want all those, and they said,

"Well, we have a $50 budget."

The one guitar that you can get

is this one.

I got this guitar,
I took two lessons

and I stopped playing
for four years.

So it sat in a closet and
every once in a while,

my mom would remind
me of the $50 we blew

on that guitar and it's
still in the closet,

why don't you ever
play that thing?

But then when I was 17, I
got the Sex Pistols cassette.

(rock music)

* I am an antichrist

* I am an anarchist

It felt like it was music
that was as powerful

as any of the metal that I liked

and yet, I could maybe
do this by the weekend.

I went into my drama
club at my high school

and I said, "A punk
rock band is forming,

raise your hand if
you want to be in it,

no experience required."

And within 24 hours,
I was in a band

without knowing how to
play a note or a chord

on the guitar.

DAVE: What was the
name of your band?

The Electric Sheep.

Which also featured
Adam Jones from Tool.

DAVE: Really?

He was the bass player
of the Electric Sheep.

It was a noisy band
of non-musicians

and there was only
one basement in town

that allowed us
to rehearsal there

and it was Mary Morello.

When we were practicing
in the basement

with the Electric Sheep-
I didn't care.

You didn't care, all right.

Yeah, I didn't care at all.

I liked it. Yeah.

My first ever live performance

as a musician was in my mom's
basement in Libertyville.

It went.

There's always been a
tremendous open-ended

support for my
passions that she's had

and I didn't realize
how unique that was

till I got out in the world
and that's a very unusual case.

(rock music)

That time when he
was in high school,

I took him to Harvard,
Princeton, Yale

and Northwestern.

Tom got in all the schools
where he interviewed.

And he wanted me to
go to Harvard and
bring something there.

What did you want to bring?

Oh yeah. My god.
(both laughing)

That's right.

(rock music)

I was in bands each
year at Harvard

and they were cover bands
and they were not great.

And my mom was willing to
come out to gigs and stuff.

I've been in bands with
people from high school

through whenever where parents

may have never been to our show.

(heavy rock music)

She never missed a show.

She never missed the
little league game.

She never missed
me being in a play.

Never.

(heavy rock music)

Again, with her, it's not like
she read a parenting book.

It's innate.

It's just like, "I love my kid.

I'm gonna support my kid.
I'm gonna be at the show."

(heavy rock music)

(indistinct chatter)

* I got the love

* May be a prophet

* I'm a hold your hand, yeah

* You gotta understand, yeah

* If it helps you, baby

Great, great, great.

Well done.

(scattered chatter)

TOM: This is my
mom, Mary Morello.

GEEZER BUTLER: Oh hello,
how are you doing?

TOM: He's playing bass
with us but he's also the

bass player of a band
called Black Sabbath.

Bet you've heard of him.

Bet you heard them in
my bedroom when I was

(laughter)

11.

So the music happens here.

So I think maybe hang out,

I might wanna go to my seat.

You can go to, you
can do whatever.

However you want to rock
best. It's entirely up to you.

(Audioslave's Show
Me How To Live plays)

* And with the early dawn

* Moving right along

* I couldn't buy an
eyeful of sleep *

TOM: But I mean, I always
felt from her that,

that she was going
to be proud of me,

whether or not I was successful.

And that there was that
kind of like support of

follow your passion and
do what it is that you

love and I believe in you.

* A telephone in my heart

* Someone get me a priest

You know, I graduated
from Harvard

with an honors degree
in political science.

I announced I was going
to move to Hollywood

and just try to
be in a metal band

with sort of,
forsaking my degree.

It never occurred to
me that that might be

a thing that a parent
would have a problem with.

DAVE: And you just let him go?

MARY: Of course, I wanted
Tom to do everything

he wanted to, he was free.

I believe that kids
should be free.

(Show Me How To Live ends)

(crowd cheering)

(upbeat music)

I moved to Hollywood in '86

and Rage Against The Machine
made a record in '92.

So that was a period where
I was utterly destitute

for most of it.

My only work experience was
at the Renaissance fair.

So I was, you know,
a telemarketer,

I painted indoors and
offices with the fumes

were like crazy and a brief
stint as an exotic dancer

and...

DAVE: I wasn't gonna ask man

TOM: It's all right, I
mean, it's in the Wikipedia.

It's in the Wikipedia.

DAVE: The last 20
minutes I'm trying to

TOM: find your way.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

My mom, my mom didn't,

my mom didn't know
that, she didn't know.

But it was, it was a brief
stint of bachelorette parties

and let me tell
you, to this day,

if The Commodore's
Brick House comes on,

watch out.

(Commodores' Brick House plays)

For me, there was no plan B.

I was fully committed
to being a musician,

even if it just meant, you know,

living in a squat in Hollywood
and playing in bands,

cause that's what
I wanted to do.

And then much to my surprise,

Rage Against The
Machine caught fire.

ZACK: Brothers and sisters,

(crowd cheers)

our democracy has been hijacked.

(Rage Against The
Machine's Testify plays)

* The movie ran through me

DAVE: When, when he first played

Rage Against The Machine for you

did you feel any sort of
connection to the message

of the music?

Well, their politics
were my politics.

They were, we were
all to the left, so.

* Now testify

* Now testify

MARY: I love the guys.

I was there when they
rehearsed to go to California.

I slept on the floor with
them in New York City.

I was there a lot so.

* It's right outside your door
(song ends)

NEWS REPORTER: Motley
Crue, Prince, ZZ Top,

these are a few of
the rock musicians

criticized by Tennessee Senator,
Albert Gore's wife, Tipper.

There are songs about
glorifying incest

there's songs about r*pe,
thrill k*lling, sadomasochism.

Recording studios
voluntarily responded

to the campaign against
heavy metal songs.

Many records now contain
sexually explicit warnings

on the label.

In 1990 I started an
organization called

Parents for Rock and Rap
in opposition to the PMRC.

We have 700 members, it's
a grassroots organization

but it's all people
who are active

against censorship in
the music industry.

You young people know there
are a lot of censors out there

and it's up to
you to fight them.

Boycott any record
shops that won't sell

stickered albums to minors.

But also go in and tell
them why you're boycotting.

She was actively
involved in, sort of,

radical politics at the
same time as the band.

In New Orleans they had
arrested two of the men

for nothing and put them
in jail, I was so mad.

And in front of the whole kids,

I, I told them the whole story
and they didn't arrest me.

What did, no. You didn't
tell them the whole story,

what did you lead the
crowd in a chant of?

I don't remember

f*ck the Louisiana police,
this was Lollapalooza.

We were the first band on stage

and Mary Morello, retired
high school teacher,

begins Lollapalooza in
1993 with this diatribe

about an event that
happened the night before

and then waving the
microphone, leads the crowd

in chant of "f*ck the
Louisiana police" and she's,

and she's like, and
they didn't arrest me.

(Crowd Cheering)

She has been raging
against machines long

before I was born and
just continues to do so.

My mom had been
writing to my father

my entire life without
receiving reply.

So she would write
to him, you know,

your son graduated high school,

your son got accepted to
Harvard, your son graduated.

Your son got a record.

You know, this sort of,
different life moments

and never received a reply.

We're going to visit Kenya
in '94 to go on safari

and my mom, of course,
had written to him

to the same PO box he had
in 1963 and said, you know,

Tom and I are coming, please
meet us at the airport.

She tells me this
on the airplane,

anticipating my father
to be at the airport.

I'm like he could be dead
25 years or living in China.

Of course, he wasn't at
the airport when we arrived

but there was a note
from him at our hotel.

Sorry, I couldn't meet
you at the airport.

I, I'll take you out to dinner
tomorrow night at eight.

And my mom was
like, "okay, cool."

I'm like, what?
How's that possible?

This one is, this is in Kenya,

this is, I think the first
time that my mom and I

visited Kenya in, this is
the Mount Kenya Safari Club,

and it was when I met my
dad, when I was 38 years old,

was on this, on this trip.

And was, it was sort of
a very emotional trip.

And we saw a lot of excellent
wildlife at the same time.

(emotional music)

You know, now we have a
very good relationship

and he loves his grandkids.

And you know, he
came to my wedding.

(somber music)

(airplane engine whirs)

DAVE: Knowing how happy
I had been as a kid

and how much energy
and time and sacrifice

and love she had put
into raising a family.

The first thing I wanted to
do was to share it with her.

For all of the things
that she had given me,

now I could give back.

(somber music)

I mean, I felt like I
wanted to repay, you know

in little ways, sharing
experiences with her

or trying to make her life
easier or more comfortable.

So it's not like I made
it, it's like we made it.

(guitar music)

(scattered chatter)

VIRGINIA: Every mother I
met when writing my book

left me with a takeaway
about parenting.

And Mary's was very clear.

If you listen to and love
your child unconditionally,

you build trust.

That allows them to
travel the world,

stand up for their rights

and stand up for the
rights of others.

At 97,

Mary has shown

that everyone can be an
activist in their own way

and that the work is
never really done.

(Crowd applauds)

MARY: I'd like to
introduce the best

f*cking band in the universe

(crowd cheers)

from Los Angeles, California

Rage Against The

CROWD: Machine!

Mary is like, kind of a
force of nature in that,

there is no doubting
what she believes.

She has been that
way in the classroom,

out of the classroom,
at a Cubs game,

in her kitchen, at
a birthday party.

Mary is unflappable.

TOM: This was not, this,
it was her 94th birthday,

but I was on tour somewhere

and a lot of people call
my mom on her birthday.

So I was like, so who called?

And she goes down the list
and she's like "this one,

that one and there's
this one guy I talked to

for a very long
time about Syria.

And I disagreed
with what he thought

about what's going on in
Syria and he had an accent."

I'm like, who? I don't know
what you're talking about.

She's like, I don't
know who it was either

but we had a very good talk,

even though we had some strong
disagreements about things.

So then, the next day
I get a text from Bono,

he's like, "I had this
crazy talk with your mom

about Syria yesterday,
she's a trip."

(laughs)

I lost my,

my mother at 14 years old.

And since then I
developed a tendency

for borrowing other
people's mothers.

I could say I, I
borrowed Mary Morello.

MARY: Bono calls
me up sometimes.

We have a good friendship.

I'm sort of a mother figure.

Bono is a good guy, yeah.

I don't always agree with
him, but he doesn't mind.

She's like everybody's mother.

I mean, if you're an
activist, she's your mother.

You know, if you like loud,
disruptive punk rock music,

she's your mother.

She's the mother of all mothers.

Her world encompasses
the basketball coach

from Marseilles,
Illinois, and Bono,

because she doesn't really
view those people differently.

And they all kind of
view her the same way,

with kind of a magnificence.

All right Ma, There you go.

(crowd chatter)

(crowd chanting)

We will not quit

until this state

and this district
invests in our students.

(crowd cheering)

You are inspiring
the entire nation.

Now you're dressed
for the occasion.

ANNOUNCER: We are
here for the students

TOM: My relationship changed
in no way whatsoever.

From the time I was 4 to the
time that I'm 54, like it's

she was very proud of
me in when I was working

at the Renaissance fair, you
know, in Bristol, Wisconsin

and she's very proud of me
when I'm rocking the Coliseum.

For her, it's just,
she's proud of her kid.

My name is Tom Morello
and I'm a union man.

(Crowd Cheers)

My mom, Mary, was a public
high school teacher in

Illinois for 30 years

and they always had
food on the table,

clothes on our backs and
guitars in the garage

because she was a union
high school teacher.

(crowd cheering)

* As I was walking

* That rivet of highway

* I saw above me

* That endless skyway

She's a tremendous
and ferocious example

of a, a life that
is uncompromised.

* This land was made
for you and me *

She doesn't want to help poor
people and change the world

for the better, because
she read about in the book.

It's something that
is born into her

and it is an innate part of her

to try to make the
world a better place.

And then also being
ferociously opposed

to any injustice
wherever she sees it.

When I give the signal
I want everybody,

front to back, side to side,

onstage and in the pit and
even my mom over there,

to jump the f*ck up
and down in solidarity.

Are ya with me?

I just took it for granted.

I thought everybody's
parent was a Mary Morello

and it turns out nobody's
parent is a Mary Morello,

except mine.

MARY: I'm proud that he
has done exactly what he

wanted every minute of his life.

And I'm proud of
him every minute

and I love him with
all my heart forever.

Mary Morello

* This land was made
for you and me *

Thank you very much.

Solidarity forever.

Take it easy,

but take it.

Thank you very much.

(Crowd Cheering)

ANNOUNCER: Tom
Morello, LA teachers

(Upbeat Rock Music)