Black Poetry Tuesdays (July 11, 2023 Edition): "Primer for Blacks” by Gwendolyn Brooks

The week’s poem is a piece from Gwendolyn Brooks, a Black female writer, and poet who was the first Black poet to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1950. Gwendolyn was also the first Black woman to hold the role of Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, a position now referred to as the Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry. She served as the Illinois poet laureate for 32 years.

Gwendolyn’s work is well-known for being steeped in her experiences and identities as a Black woman in the United States, with a unique ability to be militant and steadfast in her use of language and imagery while drawing in white folx who were fearful of the writers, poets, and artists that were a part of her generation of Black voices post-Harlem Renaissance.

The following piece is called “Primer for Blacks.” It is an interesting study on Blackness as a singular identity but also a view into how even if you have an ounce of Afro-Carribean blood in your DNA, you are still Black in the eyes of whiteness. It’s a great piece about reconciling one’s identities at the intersection of Blackness as well as anti-black self-hatred.

Primer for Blacks

Blackness

is a title,

is a preoccupation,

is a commitment Blacks

are to comprehend—

and in which you are

to perceive your Glory.

The conscious shout

of all that is white is

“It’s Great to be white.”

The conscious shout

of the slack in Black is

‘It’s Great to be white.’

Thus all that is white

has white strength and yours.

The word Black

has geographic power,

pulls everybody in:

Blacks here—

Blacks there—

Blacks wherever they may be.

And remember, you Blacks, what they told you—

remember your Education:

“one Drop—one Drop

maketh a brand new Black.”

        Oh mighty Drop.

______And because they have given us kindly

so many more of our people

Blackness

stretches over the land.

Blackness—

the Black of it,

the rust-red of it,

the milk and cream of it,

the tan and yellow-tan of it,

the deep-brown middle-brown high-brown of it,

the “olive” and ochre of it—

Blackness

marches on.

The huge, the pungent object of our prime out-ride

is to Comprehend,

to salute and to Love the fact that we are Black,

which is our “ultimate Reality,”

which is the lone ground

from which our meaningful metamorphosis,

from which our prosperous staccato,

group or individual, can rise.

Self-shriveled Blacks.

Begin with gaunt and marvelous concession:

YOU are our costume and our fundamental bone.

     All of you—

     you COLORED ones,

     you NEGRO ones,

those of you who proudly cry

     “I’m half INDian”—

     those of you who proudly screech

     “I’VE got the blood of George WASHington in MY veins”

     ALL of you—

           you proper Blacks,

     you half-Blacks,

     you wish-I-weren’t Blacks,

     Niggeroes and Niggerenes.

     You.

You can learn more about Gwendolyn here.

Black Poetry Tuesdays (July 4, 2023 Edition): "On Being Brought from Africa to America" by Phillis Wheatley

The week’s poem is a piece from Phillis Wheatley, a Black woman whose poetic works came to national and international attention while enslaved by a white family in Boston, Massachusetts, at the age of seven. Phillis became one of the most prominent poets in pre-19th-century literature as an enslaved domestic worker, and she spoke of her experiences in chattel slavery and the heaviness of her circumstances.

The following piece is entitled "On Being Brought from Africa to America." It is one of her heavier pieces, exploring the forced assimilation of enslaved Africans into Christianity.

On Being Brought from Africa to America

' Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.'
Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.

You can learn more about Phillis here.

Black Poetry Tuesdays (June 27, 2023 Edition): "Who Said It Was So Simple" by Audre Lorde

This week's Black Poetry Tuesday poem comes from writer, activist, radical feminist, professor, and philosopher Audre Lorde. I present Audre's powerful poem, "Who Said It Was Simple, " to y'all."

Who Said It Was So Simple

"There are so many roots to the tree of anger   
that sometimes the branches shatter   
before they bear.

Sitting in Nedicks
the women rally before they march   
discussing the problematic girls   
they hire to make them free.
An almost white counterman passes   
a waiting brother to serve them first   
and the ladies neither notice nor reject   
the slighter pleasures of their slavery.   
But I who am bound by my mirror   
as well as my bed
see causes in colour
as well as sex

and sit here wondering   
which me will survive   
all these liberations."

Lorde's focus in the piece was to point out the racism and classism of the feminist movement's whiteness and lack of intersectionality. She turns the language of the women she's observing back against them, using it to underscore how the "liberations" they seek both depend on and exclude "problematic girls" such as Lorde. Audre, who openly talked about the difficulties and traumas that came with being viewed as "other" in every group her identities were part of, keeps it short and sweet with this piece. But you can also sense her exhaustion, her need to make sure her identities were viewed as relevant and not tokenized. This piece was written in 1973 but is still relevant and impactful in 2023.

You can learn more about Audre Lorde here.

Black Poetry Tuesdays (June 20, 2023 Edition): "I Apologize" by Oscar Brown, Jr.

Let's start a new weekly tradition, y'all. Here's the first installment of Black Poetry Tuesdays, an opportunity to be exposed to poets you've never heard of and works from those whose mainstream works might be more familiar than their B-sides.

Let's start with a lil' satire in the form of "I Apologize" from the late great singer-songwriter Oscar Brown, Jr.

I Apologize

"I apologize for being black

All I am plus all I lack

Please, sir, please, ma'am

Give me some slack

‘Cause I apologize

I apologize for being poor

For being sick and tired and sore

Since I ain’t slick

Don’t know the score

I do apologize

I apologize because I bear

Resemblance most black people share

Thick lips, flat nose, and nappy hair

Yes I apologize

I apologize for how I look

For all of the lows and blows I took

On those, Lord knows, I’d close the book

As I apologize

I apologize for all I gave

For letting you make me yo’ slave

And going to my early grave

Yes I apologize

I apologize for being caught

For being sold, for being bought

For being told I count for naught

Yeah I apologize

I apologize for all I’ve done

For all my toil out in the sun

Don’t want to spoil your righteous fun

So I apologize

I apologize and curse my kind

For being fooled, for being blind

For being ruled and in your bind

Yes I apologize

I apologize and curse my feet

For being slow, for being late

Because I know it’s me you hate

Why not apologize

I apologize and tip my hat

‘Cause you so rich and free and fat

Son of a bitch, that’s where it’s at

And I apologize."

Learn more about Oscar Brown, Jr. here.