“Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing!”
- from Yet Do I Marvel by Countee Cullen
Inspired by the success of Black History Month, the Academy of American Poets established National Poetry Month – a month-long, national celebration of poetry. The concept is to widen the attention of individuals and the media—to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and concern.
The purpose is to increase the visibility and availability of poetry in popular culture while acknowledging and celebrating poetry’s ability to sustain itself in the many places where it is practiced and appreciated.
I have always been a huge poetry fan. I have volumes of poetry on my bookshelves and I’ve been known to write a few verses from time to time.
All of this poetry talk, makes me think about my college poetry professor, Dr. Jon Woodson. He was an eccentric, intellectual who taught us how to deconstruct a poem in order to really appreciate it’s merits. He also taught us about the creative process that goes into writing poetry.
On the first day of class, he told us to pull out a sheet of paper because we were having a pop quiz. We all groaned and reluctantly pulled out our notebooks.
Dr. Woodson reached under his desk and puled out a brown paper bag. He placed the bag on his desk and said, “Here is your quiz.”
We all looked at each other puzzled. One brave student asked what we were supposed to do.
“Tell me what’s in the bag,” said Dr. Woodson. “You have five minutes to complete the quiz.”
We all looked around the room still unsure about what we should be doing. We wrote answers on our papers and passed them to Dr. Woodson at the end of the allotted period.
“Now I will read your answers aloud and grade the papers,” said Dr. Woodson.
“The first one says, ‘Your Lunch,’’ Dr. Woodson said. “F!” He went through a few more papers that said things like, air, some pens, and a few more lunch responses. All F!
Finally, Dr. Woodson found a response that made him smile.
“Finally,” he said. “This paper says, ‘Pink Cadillac.’ A!”
To celebrate National Poetry Month, Soul Portrait Magazine will publish a poem a day. Many talented, contemporary black poets are languishing in obscurity. This April, they will finally receive the credit and attention they deserve.
We are all aware of the devastation caused by the earthquake in Haiti. Many people died, many buildings were destroyed, but the creative spirit of many Haitians is still alive. Amid all of the chaos, destruction, and loss artists are finding hope through their work.
Dorvelus Gerald, for example, has used painting as a coping mechanism.
Gerald, 50, said he began [painting] about four days after the earthquake. The quake destroyed his mother’s house in Port-au-Prince, the capital, where he normally lives and works, and he was forced to take refuge in this little town atop terraced hills about 15 miles to the southeast. He lost most of his oil paint in the rubble, he said, and could resume painting only after a friend gave him some salvaged tubes of acrylics.
“He wanted to give me some money,” Gerald recalled. “But I said I didn’t want anything but paint. Just give me paint.” (The Washington Post. Cody, Edward. February 17, 2010).
Louis Saurel is another artist who is using painting to heal himself. In addition, he wants his art to heal the next generation of Haitians.
“It’s a painful experience, but we artists are the witnesses, we paint the past, the present and the future,” Saurel told Reuters…”Children who are only a few months old now, when they grow up and are 10 years old, they’ll be able to see what happened through our paintings.” (Rueters . Fletcher, Pascal. February 16, 2010)
I’ve never experienced anything like the Haitian earthquake, but my own artistic expression has helped me to deal with some pretty tough situations. Art soothes the soul and makes sense of the world when nothing else does.
I’ll leave you with this video from Manno Charlemagne, “Ayiti Pa Forè.” Charlemagne has been using his music to lift Haitian people out of despair for years. I hope that his music will lift your spirits today.
Black History Month has always troubled me. Blacks have contributed so much to the world that it hardly seems fair to relegate our history to the shortest month of the year. Black history is American history. The two are forever intertwined.
However, I have since come to realize that all of our accomplishments would go unnoticed if not for Black History Month. We must celebrate it and make it much more than a rehash of the Civil Rights Movement or a time for kids to write reports about George Washington Carver. Our history is important and we must treat it as such.
Since Barack Obama was elected President, people love to say that we live in a post-racial society. I disagree. Race still matters in America and the election of a black man is not going to change that any time soon. Just talk to Jordan Miles and you will quickly agree.
When Carter G. Woodson created Negro History week in 1926, he truly hoped that America would get to the point when celebrating Negro history would be irrelevant. However, he was wise enough to know the importance of celebrating our history and culture until that day arrived.
A comedian once said that Black History Month was something that white people feel guilty about and Black people ignore. We can no longer afford to ignore it.
But there was a time in our history when our communities were safe, entrepreneurs thrived, and children were expected to excel in their studies (even if they had to use books that were discarded by white schools).
There was a time in our history when we were bursting with intellectualism and creativity.
There was a time in our history when being a thug was looked down upon.
We must revisit those times and figure out how we can recreate them. Black people have a history of excellence. That’s the kind of history that we must preserve.
“The night is beautiful,
So the faces of my people.
The stars are beautiful,
So the eyes of my people.
Beautiful, also, is the sun.
Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.”
“My People” by Langston Hughes
Throughout history, black people across the Diaspora have impacted the world through our creative talents. Our literature, drama, music, and visual art have challenged paternalism, racism and heralded freedom movements from the United States to South Africa.
While we have faced hardships, our art has always been a soothing balm for troubled hearts. Negro spirituals helped us to endure slavery. The Harlem Renaissance ushered in a new era of black intellectualism. The Black Arts Movement helped us to defeat Jim Crow and gain Civil Rights. Hip-hop music voiced the struggles of inner city youths.
Soul Portrait will be a platform to share our cultural experiences, celebrate our creativity, and admire our beauty. We will publish WORDS | IMAGES | MUSIC from the souls of black folk.
If you are an artists, writer, musician, or photographer who is passionate about preserving black culture, please submit your work to Soul Portrait. My goal is to showcase creative talent from around the globe.
I would also love to hear your feedback through comments on the posts or via e-mail.
I’m convinced that black art will continue to blossom in this new decade. Our creative efforts will lead to a greater social consciousness, connectedness, and a unified racial identity.
Let’s make something beautiful in 2010. Happy New Year.
Soul Portrait accepts photos, videos, sound recordings, music, essays, short stories, and poetry that chronicles the rich culture of black people around the world. Include a short bio and any links you’d like to share. Soul Portrait has the right to refuse any submissions that do not meet our editorial criteria. Submissions with excessive profanity, derogatory language, or nudity will be deleted. Soul Portrait will edit works for clarity and/or length. By submitting, you acknowledge that you are the author, creator, owner of the work.
“Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing!”
- from Yet Do I Marvel by Countee Cullen
