Jericho Brown on the trouble with recommendation writing

We're headed into early December, which among other things, means I'm at that annual moment when I, like so many others, am writing several recommendations for students applying to graduate school. I'll have another busy moment of recommendation writing in the spring as I write letters for colleagues applying to fellowships, and there will be a moment in the early fall semester when I write promotion letters as well recommendations for folks applying for jobs. 

I'm not necessarily opposed to writing recommendations, but I do question the usefulness and processes in some instances. 

Over the last few years on Twitter, I've taken note as poet Jericho Brown has offered useful critiques of recommendation writing. He's not belaboring the acts of assisting people by writing on their behalf. Instead, he's often questioning problems with the system of recommendation writing.  

In 2017, someone prompted folks on Twitter to "name a scam." Brown responded, "The fact that anyone has to go through writing or requesting a letter of recommendation when everyone keeps saying it's all abt the work." 

In 2018, someone asked, “what’s something that should be obvious, but your profession seems to misunderstand?” Brown responded, "Recommendation letters are in and of themselves racist and classist, and should be mostly unnecessary when applying for anything in the arts."

In August 2020, he produced a short thread the system of recommendations that really captured my attention. He tweeted, "I really don’t believe in rec letters. No one wants to ask for them. No one looks forward to reading them. & the same busy people get asked to write them cuz everyone’s under the impression that who or what institution the rec comes from cld be even more useful than what it says."

He continued: "It wld also be so much easier for everyone involved (particularly in in cases where the biggest criteria SHOULD be a work sample) if folk were contacted for recs after someone is in a close finalist position. Askn for them up front wastes so many peoples’ time. We could fix that." 

He revealed that "Some grants and fellowships don’t say it directly but will not give you the fellowship if your recs don’t come from people who’ve had the fellowship."

"Honestly," he tweeted in the same thread, "if someone asks me for a rec and I write it, I’m only going to glow and gush. I think that has value, but how much value does that have when we’re glowing and gushing 20 times three times a year for different apps."

Like Brown and others, I do wish institutions requesting recommendations would only make recommendation requests when and if a candidate is among the finalists. Doing so could save us time and energy. I also wish there was a more serious discussion about the inequality and unfairness that exists in the system of recommendations. 

Considering the Frankie Baker of "Frankie and Johnny"

Frankie Baker

I was really fascinated by this "Frankie and Johnny" episode of the podcast Murder Ballads produced by Laura Morris. In particular, I was interested in the central figure Frankie Baker, a Black woman who lived in St. Louis. I've spent quiet a bit of time thinking about the notorious Stagolee, born Lee Shelton, who was from St. Louis, but Baker had escaped me. 

[Related: Stagger Lee, Murder Ballads, Laura Morris, and me]

Most notably, she had been whitewashed -- presented as a White woman -- so it was less likely that she would have come up in studies of folklore and African American history the way that Stagolee did. Too, so much of the discourse concerning bad folk figures concentrates on bad men, not women. These two reasons explain why Frankie Baker was erased.

In 1899, Baker, who by most accounts was a prostitute, was attacked by her lover and possible pimp, Allen Britt, who was a talented pianist in St. Louis. At one point as he advanced to strike Baker, she pulled out a gun a shot him. He died days later. 

Not long after that, a local musician, Bill Dooley, composed a song about what happened. The song circulated among musicians in the city and region and then across the country. Although initially known as "Frankie and Allen" and then "Frankie and Albert," musicians eventually changed the wording to "Frankie and Johnny." 

Laura Morris notes that she is aware of more than four hundred versions of "Frankie and Johnny" songs. The songs inspired films, which cast white women and men to play Frankie and Johnny. That casting was how Baker was erased. 

A ruling of justifiable homicide, in this case self-defense, made it possible for Baker to avoid serving time for shooting Britt. However, as Morris explained, hearing the song and knowing about the movies, which white people made millions off of, was a kind of prison for Baker. She could not escape reminders about a disturbing personal incident that were sensationalized in artistic productions, and her troubles became a source of profit for many, except her.

Hearing Baker's story retold on Murder Ballads inspired me to think about Baker, and I hope to make sure we cover her in my courses as we discuss African American folk culture. 

Related: 

• A notebook on Bad Men: Creative Touchstones of Black Writers

From 250 Years to 250 Years of African American Poetry

When the full title of the anthology Kevin Young was editing was released, I immediately recalled another anthology. Young's African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song (2020) reminded me of Jerry W. Ward Jr.'s Trouble the Water: 250 Years of African-American Poetry (1997). 

I've written about Young's anthology. I also wanted to compile a list of collections including or showcasing poems by Black poets, from Ward's 1997 collection to Young's 2020 collection. 

• 1997: Trouble the Water: 250 Years of African-American Poetry. Ed. Jerry W. Ward, Jr. 

• 1997: The Norton Anthology of African American Literature. Ed. Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Nellie Y. McKay 

• 1997: Spirit & Flame: An Anthology of Contemporary African American Poetry. Ed. Keith Gilyard 

 • 1998: Catch the fire!!! : a cross-generational anthology of contemporary African-American poetry. Ed. Derrick I.M. Gilbert 

 • 1998: Call & Response: The Riverside Anthology of the African American Literary Tradition. Ed. Patricia Liggins Hill et al. 

 • 2000: The Prentice Hall Anthology of African American Literature. Ed. Rochelle Smith and Sharon L. Jones 

• 2000: The Vintage Book of African American Poetry: 200 Years of Vision, Struggle, Power, Beauty and Triumph from 50 Outstanding Poets. Ed. Michael S. Harper and Anthony Walton&nbsp

• 2000: Step into a World: A Global Anthology of New Black Literature. Ed. Kevin Powell 

• 2000: Giant Steps: The New Generation of African American Writers. Ed. Kevin Young

• 2001: bum rush the page: A Def Poetry Jam. Eds. Tony Medina and Louis Reyes Rivera 

• 2002: Making Callaloo: 25 Years of Black Literature. Ed. Charles H. Rowell

• 2002: Beyond the Frontier: African American Poetry for the 21st Century. Ed. E. Ethelbert Miller

• 2002: Role Call: A Generational Anthology of Social and Political Black Literature and Art. Eds. Samiya Bashir, Lansana, Quraysh Ali, and Tony Medina

• 2003: The Norton Anthology of African American Literature. Second Edition. Ed. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Nellie Y. McKay 

• 2003: The Spoken Word Revolution (Slam, Hip Hop and the Poetry of a New Generation). Ed. Mark Eleveld

• 2003: Blues Poems: Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets Series. Ed. Kevin Young 

• 2004: African American Literature. Eds. Keith Gilyard and Anissa Wardi 

• 2004: Furious Flower: African American Poetry from the Black Arts Movement to the Present. Ed. Joanne V. Gabbin

• 2005: Dream of a Word: The Tia Chucha Press Poetry Anthology. Ed. Quraysh Lansana and Asante Lightfoot 

• 2005: Rainbow Darkness: An Anthology of African American Poetry. Ed. Keith Tuma 

• 2006: Jazz Poems: Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets Series. Ed. Kevin Young 

• 2006: Gathering Ground: A Reader Celebrating Cave Canem's First Decade. Eds. Toi Derricotte, Camille T. Dungy, and Cornelius Eady

• 2006: Every Goodbye Ain't Gone: An Anthology of Innovative Poetry by African Americans. Eds. Lauri Ramey and Aldon Lynn Nielsen 

• 2006: Black Writing from Chicago: In the World, Not of It? Ed. Richard Guzman

• 2006: The Oxford Anthology of African-American Poetry. Ed. Arnold Rampersad 

• 2007: The Ringing Ear: Black Poets Lean South. Ed. Nikky Finney

• 2007: The Spoken Word Revolution Redux. Ed. Mark Eleveld

• 2009: Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry. Ed. Camille T. Dungy 

• 2010: The Art of Losing: Poems of Grief and Healing. Ed. Kevin Young 

• 2010: The Anthology of Rap. Eds. Adam Bradley and Andrew DuBois 

• 2010: So Much Things to Say: 100 Poets from the First Ten Years of the Calabash International Literary Festival. Eds. Colin Channer and Kwame Dawes

• 2010: The 100 Best African American Poems (*but I Cheated). Ed. Nikki Giovanni 

• 2011: Home Is Where: An Anthology of African American Poetry from the Carolinas. Ed. Kwame Dawes 

• 2011: The Penguin Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Poetry. Ed. Rita Dove

• 2012: The Hungry Ear: Poems of Food and Drink. Ed. Kevin Young 

• 2013: Angles of Ascent: A Norton Anthology of Contemporary African American Poetry. Ed. Charles Henry Rowell

• 2014: The Norton Anthology of African American Literature. Third Edition. Eds. Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Valerie Smith 

• 2014: The Wiley Blackwell Anthology of African American Literature. Ed. Gene Andrew Jarrett 

• 2014: Black Gold:  An Anthology. Ed. Ja A. Jahannes.  

• 2014: SOS—Calling All Black People: A Black Arts Movement Reader. Eds. John H. Bracey, Jr., Sonia Sanchez, and James Smethurst 

• 2015: What I Say: Innovative Poetry by Black Writers in America. Eds. Lauri Ramey and Aldon Lynn Nielsen 

• 2015: The BreakBeat Poets: New American Poetry in the Age of Hip-Hop. Eds. Kevin Coval, Quraysh Ali Lansana, Nate Marshall 

• 2016: Of Poetry and Protest: From Emmett Till to Trayvon Martin. Eds. Philip Cushway and Michael Warr

• 2016: Resisting Arrest: Poems to Stretch the Sky. Ed. Tony Medina

• 2017: Black Lives Have Always Mattered:  An Anthology of Essays, Poetry, and Stories.  Ed. Abiodun Oyewole, 

• 2017: One Window's Light: A Collection of Haiku. Ed. Lenard D. Moore

• 2018: The BreakBeat Poets Vol. 2: Black Girl Magic. Eds. by Jamila Woods , Mahogany L. Browne,, Idrissa Simmonds

• 2019: Revisiting the Elegy in the Black Lives Matter Era. Eds. Tiffany Austin, Sequoia Maner, Emily Ruth Rutter, darlene anita scott 

• 2019: The Golden Shovel Anthology: New Poems Honoring Gwendolyn Brooks. Eds Peter Kahn, Ravi Shankar, Patricia Smith

• 2020:All the Songs We Sing: Celebrating the 25th Anniversary of the Carolina African American Writers' Collective Ed. Lenard D. Moore

• 2020: Soul Sister Revue: a Poetry Compilation. Ed. Cynthia Manick

• 2020: African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song. Ed. Kevin Young

Related:

• A notebook on anthologies

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song (2020), edited by Kevin Young and published by the Library of America, is an expansive anthology showcasing works by 246 writers. The collection contains poems by canonical figures such as Phillis Wheatley, Langston Hughes, Gwendolyn Brooks, Amiri Baraka, and Rita Dove, as well as individual selections by dozens of poets who published their first volumes during the twenty-first century. 

The book extends the ongoing practice of assembling many poems published across more than two centuries under the general heading "African American poetry." This anthology confirms Young's reputation as a resourceful literary editor and cultural curator. Teachers at the high school and college levels, especially those seeking to offer surveys of African American poetry, will find the collection useful based on the introductory remarks, coverage, content, and biographical sketches. 

Young opens the introduction noting that "African Americans have written and recited and published poetry about beauty and injustice, music and muses, Africa and America, freedoms and foodways, Harlem and history, funk and opera, boredom and longing, jazz and joy." He goes on to note that "They wrote from a world they made and a world that, at times, seemed to distract and at best, to dis or destroy at worst. For African Americans, the very act of composing poetry proves a form of protest." 

In short, African American poets, sometimes under duress, have produced works on a marvelous variety of subjects. In numerous instances, their writing served as forms of protest and resistance, though I think that there is also writing and publishing done for the purposes of conformity and for personal and professional advancement that are not aligned with Black struggle. Recall that nearly one hundred years ago Langston Hughes accused a fellow African American poet, presumably Countee Cullen, of "subconsciously" wanting to be "a white poet." Variations of such critiques and counter-arguments have persisted in the realms of African American poetry, and such tensions are important to keep in mind when encountering anthologies, which necessarily seek to downplay some conflicts.  

Young organizes African American Poetry into eight chronological sections as follows: 

One: Bury Me in a Free Land 1770-1899 

Two: Lift Every Voice, 1900-1918 

Three: The Dark Tower, 1919-1936 

Four: Ballads of Remembrance, 1936-1959 

Five: Ideas of Ancestry, 1959-1975 

Six: Blue Light Sutras, 1976-1989 

Seven: Praise Songs for the Day, 1990-2008 

Eight: After the Hurricane, 2009-2020

Within each section, except the first one, the poets are presented alphabetically based on their last names. Young provides a brief overview of each of the sections, identifying various poets who contributed to shaping the moments. The organizational approach to temporal sections that Young takes is common among anthology editors, though many collections arrange authors within a section based on birth year, rather than last name. 

Some anthologies -- and right now I'm thinking of The Oxford Anthology of African-American Poetry (2006), edited by Arnold Rampersad and SOS―Calling All Black People: A Black Arts Movement Reader edited by John Bracey, Sonia Sanchez, and James Smethurst -- present poems based on topics and themes, revealing how various poets addressed common subjects. 

Young opens his remarks with section one by noting that "the African American poetic tradition begins with Phillis Wheatley, the first Black woman to publish a book while in the Americas." I've long been familiar with similar claims about Wheatley. However, I also thought of another collection, Trouble the Water: 250 Years of African-American Poetry (1997) edited by Jerry W. Ward, Jr. He opens his introduction noting that "the beginnings of African-American poetry are in speech and song." He goes on to state that "What is primal about its origins and strongly marked in its continuity as a tradition suggests the value of listening to the poetry as carefully as we read it silently." 

It's fascinating that Ward's African-American poetry anthology from 1997 and Young's African American poetry anthology from 2020 both concentrate on "250 years" of verse. The two editors diverge, though, on where they locate beginnings. I'm assuming that the primacy Young places on Wheatley refers to where she resides with respect to book history in poetry. Earlier in his introduction, Young acknowledges that Jupiter Hammon was the first African American to publish poetry in a magazine. "But," Young argues, "it wasn't till Wheatley that an entire tradition began to emerge." 

The musicality and Black vernacular culture that pervades Young's books of poetry, essays, and other anthologies convince me that he is quite aware of the many other trajectories of Black poetic traditions. But listen: recording the aural and vernacular qualities of Black verse in a literary anthology ain't never nothing that's easy.    

The large number of poets that Young includes is notable, and so is the wide span of time encompassed by the birth years of the contributors. Jupiter Hammon (1711), Lucy Terry (1730), and Wheatley (circa 1753) are represented, and so are Rickey Laurentiis, Danez Smith, and Jamila Woods, all three of whom were born in 1989.

The eight sections that Young presents will serve classroom teachers well as we seek to present information about groups of poets and literary eras to students. The overall introduction is informative while at the same time accessible to general readerships.

Pot by David Drake

While many of the poems and poets are familiar to those who study African American poetry, there are some surprises. Most notably for me was the presentation of poems by David Drake, also known as David the Potter, an enslaved man from South Carolina who produced pots, several of which he inscribed with short lines of verse. (Here's one presentation of Drake's writings, though others, including Young, offer alternate views of the transcriptions).     

Young's anthology also stretches views of what constitutes "African American poetry," by including selections by Caribbean, Puerto Rican and Cuban poets. Young observes that those poets "wrote of their Black heritage and proved an undeniable influence on mainland U.S. poets (and vice versa)." 

As I read through the collection, I was reminded that the presentation of authors in a single literary era poses challenges for anthology editors, especially since so many writers produced work during multiple time periods. Gwendolyn Brook,  Dudley Randall, and Robert Hayden are rightly presented in the "Ballads of Remembrance, 1936-1959" section, but they no doubt produced important works in the 1960s, 1970s, and beyond. 

Adequately anthologizing prolific and durable poets like Amiri Baraka ain't easy 

And what about Amiri Baraka? Here, in this anthology, he's situated in section five, "Ideas of Ancestry, 1959-1975." But we all know that he sang, shouted, danced, cast spells, uttered wonderful wordless phrasings, participated in anti-war marches, and oh yeah, wrote and published poems, well beyond the parameters of Black Arts. Good luck adequately anthologizing figures as prolific and durable across decades as Baraka in a single book. 

And hey, speaking of prolific, hard-to-anthologize poets, Young modestly includes just one of his own poems. I get why, as editor, he'd limit the poems he presented here. But do note that he has published ten volumes of poetry across three decades so far, not to mention his other works, with no signs of slowing down.   

Books written and edited by Kevin Young

Some general anthologies, like The Norton Anthology of African American Literature (2014) treat "the contemporary period" as literary works produced post-1975. That seems vague and too expansive. Thus, I was pleased to see Young break period after Black Arts up into three temporal moments: 1976-1989, 1990-2008,  and 2009-2020. A little over half of the 246 poets included in this collection appear in those last three sections. 

Young points out that the two closing sections "Praise Songs for the Day, 1990-2008" and "After the Hurricane, 2009-2020" represent what is "arguably another, more current renaissance, an explosion of talent and culminating of tradition." He mentions that several of the poets in the sections were affiliated with Cave Canem. It's also worth noting that many also earned MFA degrees, since the expansive growth of creative writing programs since the 1990s has been so consequential for the field of contemporary poetry. 

On the one hand, it's really good news that Young closes the book with so many contemporary Black poets. On the other hand, there's a trade-off: because of space constraints, he could only include one poem by most of those poets. More poems by individual contributors would have likely meant fewer overall contributors. 

Look: poetry is a seriously crowded and competitive field. So I fully understand why Young could not include even more poets. Still, I also empathize with the many poets who will likely feel a certain kind of way for not being represented here. Exclusion from white anthologies is one thing and somewhat expected, but I imagine that talented, hardworking African American poets understandably harbor some frustration when they are left out of an important Black poetry anthology like this one.       

But it's tough on multiple sides. As someone who's taken his fair share of criticism for not writing about enough African American poets, I can imagine the kind of pressures an editor has working against various constraints of space. 

The "struggle" in the subtitle of Young's book mostly refers to poetry addressing confrontations overcome racism and numerous oppressive forces. In some of my studies of African American poetry however, I have learned that competition for admittance to prestigious creative writing programs, employment, fellowships and awards, recognition among audiences, and inclusion in important journals and anthologies represent notable professional struggles for Black poets as well. 

Related: 

• Black writers and the Library of America Series 

• From 250 Years to 250 Years of African American Poetry

Black writers and the Library of America Series

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song (2020) edited by Kevin Young, is published in the Library of America (LOA) series. The series was founded in 1979 with the goal of keeping noted authors and works in print.  The LOA series presents "authoritative editions" of more than 300 different volumes. 

So far, the series includes nineteen books showcasing the works of African American writers.  

• #34 W.E.B. Du Bois: Writings (1987) Edited by Nathan Huggins

• #55: Richard Wright: Early Works (1991) Edited by Arnold Rampersad

• #56: Richard Wright: Later Works (1991) Edited by Arnold Rampersad

• #68: Frederick Douglass: Autobiographies (1994) edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

• #74: Zora Neale Hurston: Novels & Stories (1995) Edited by Cheryl A. Wall

• #75: Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, & Other Writings (1995) Edited by Cheryl A. Wall

• #97: James Baldwin: Early Novels & Stories (1998) Edited by Toni Morrison

• #98: James Baldwin: Collected Essays (1998) Edited by Toni Morrison

• #114: Slave Narratives (2000) Edited by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and William L. Andrews

• #131: Charles W. Chesnutt: Stories, Novels, and Essays (2002) Edited by Werner Sollors

• #145: James Weldon Johnson: Writings (2004) Edited by William L. Andrews

• #217: Harlem Renaissance: Five Novels of the 1920s (2011) Edited by Rafia Zafar

• #218: Harlem Renaissance: Four Novels of the 1930s (2011) Edited by Rafia Zafar

• #247: William Wells Brown: Clotel & Other Writings (2014) Edited by Ezra Greenspan

• #272: James Baldwin: Later Novels (2015) Edited by Darryl Pinckney

• #304: Albert Murray: Collected Novels & Poems Edited (2018) by Henry Louis Gates, Jr. and Paul Devlin

• #314: Ann Petry: The Street, The Narrows (2019) Edited by Farah Jasmine Griffin

• #333: African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song (2020) Edited by Kevin Young

• #338: Octavia E. Butler: Kindred, Fledgling, Collected Stories (coming Jan. 2021) Edited by Nisi Shawl and Gerry Canavan

Related:

•  African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song

Tyehima Jess's Innovative Sonnets

Let's get straight to the point: Tyehimba Jess's innovative sonnets are works of wonder. 

Last week, I was viewing his online reading for "Poets, Presidents, and Pandemics: A Reading for These Times" sponsored by One Book One New Orleans. He read "Millie and Christine McKoy," one of the sonnets from his book Pulitzer-Prize winning volume Olio (2016), and as I was reminded, as I listening to his reading, how inventive he is as a creator. 

Here's a printed version of "Millie and Christine McKoy."

Jess demonstrated multiple ways of reading the poem. You can read the middle lines as a stand-alone seven-line poem; then Millie McCoy's side with the middle, then Christine's side with the middle, and then read them together from top to bottom, and then finally, the poem can be read from bottom to top. 

During the twenty-first century, several Black poets, including Nikky Finney, Marilyn Nelson, Allison Joseph, John Murillo, A. Van Jordan, and Patricia Smith have produced sonnet sequences. Jess produced a sonnet sequence at the close of leadbelly (2005), and with several poems in Olio, he extends and really innovates the practice sonnet-making. 

Jess's ability to produce these fantastic, multidirectional poems on the page is quite remarkable by itself. However, the achievement of his print-based work is even more amazing when we consider that he first gained acclaim as a performer. He emerged in a realm of poetry that was and is sometimes thought of as alternative to print-based poetry. 

Spoken word is known for personalized poems where poets discussed aspects of their identities. In her book, The Cultural Politics of Slam Poetry (2009), Susan Somers-Willett explained that slam poets or spoken word artists would often “linger on personal and political themes,” with many poets producing work that expresses “marginalized identity,” usually the poets' own identities. Accordingly, one of the most viewed poems on YouTube is Jae Nichelle's "Friends with Benefits," where she discusses her struggles with anxiety. 

In his public readings though, Jess moves beyond the usual personal focus by inhabiting the personas of varied cultural figures. He takes the dramatized nature of spoken word art and applies it to different historical figures. 

The McKoy twins

The McKoy sisters, whom Jess writes about, were Pygopagus conjoined twins and former slaves. They were forced to perform in fairs and freak shows throughout the world. After the Emancipation Proclamation provided them freedom from slave status, the twins performed with the Barnum circus. 

In one interview, Jess noted that the twins "They have two separate heads, a joint body and two separate bases." Accordingly, his poem can be read and viewed as visual response and reference to the appearance of his subjects.  

When we talk about Jess's work, we rightly focus on his engagements with history. Olio and leadbelly are both comprised of poems that retrace and re-present the lives and experiences of several cultural figures. Jess is meticulous following historical records. 

Scholar Emily Ruth Rutter points out that although Jess thoroughly researches his subject matter, “his poems are not beholden to the historiographic methodologies of his sources. Instead, Jess uses his findings as a creative springboard, availing himself of both the formal flexibility and emotive economy of poetry in order to re-present” various cultural figures.

In other words, what makes his work so outstanding is how creative he is presenting what he has studied.

With "Millie and Christine McKoy" and many other Jess poems,  we're witnessing this special moment at the crossroads of history, poetry, performance, and representation. 

Related: 

• A Notebook on the poetry of  Tyehimba Jess

One origin of Academic Journeys project

Every project I do has multiple origins. A bit of a conversation here. Something I read there. A presentation that I attended. Some past project I pursued. All of that and more contribute to a single project. 

Such was the case with my ongoing project "Academic Journeys," an oral history featuring African American students at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville about their experiences choosing majors and moving toward graduation. 

The project is now in its third year, and my student assistants and I have coordinated more than two hundred interviews. Years before the project though, my colleague Mary Z. Rose and I had several conversations about the possibility of interviewing students once per year over the course of a few years. We figured that it might be fascinating to ask the students a question and then pose it again the next year to consider changes. 

At the time, I was working with Rose on an oral history project with Eugene B. Redmond. She took the lead on organizing a series of interviews with him about his life and career. We were interviewing Redmond after he had retired from a long, amazing career. So I was wondering, what would it have been like to interview someone at the start of their career, before they even graduated from college? 

All of that was back in 2012, about six years before I began this current Academic Journeys project. The conversations with Rose, though, were central to what I decided to do focusing on African American students and this Academic Journeys project. 

Related:

• Academic Journeys project

Rediscovering Richard Wright's "The Man Who Lived Underground"

Last week, the Margaret Walker Center hosted "The Black Boy Conversation," celebrating the 75th anniversary of Richard Wright's autobiography. The event included a panel discussion featuring Jerry W. Ward, Jr., Kiese Laymon, Charlie Braxton, Kevin Powell, Wright's daughter Julia Wright, and moderator C. Liegh McInnis. I had a good time listening to the panelists discussing their responses to Wright's work and how he influenced them.   

Toward the end of the event, Julia Wright discussed the upcoming release of Wright's The Man Who Lived Underground. The work was first published as a novella or short story in 1944, and later appeared in Wright's collection Eight Men (1961). I'm excited to engage this fuller version in April 2021. 

Julia Wright revealed that she has been pushing to have this version of Wright's novel released for quite some time. The publishers moved slowly. However, recent events in the world, namely police brutality, apparently inspired movement. She expressed mixed feelings--pleased that the work will finally appear as a novel, but disappointed about the events that had to take place in the world for it to happen. 

I first read Wright's "The Man Who Lived Underground" in the fall of 1996, my second year of undergrad. I read that story along with other works from Wright's short story collection, Eight Men and other books he wrote, including The Outsider (1953), Savage Holiday (1954), Black Power (1954), The Color Curtain (1956), Pagan Spain (1957), and Lawd Today! (1963). 

At the time, I had not fully comprehended what it meant that the editions of Wright's works I was reading had just recently been brought back into print. I was reading versions of Wright's works that had not been previously published. I'll be in a similar position when reading this older yet new version of "The Man Who Lived Underground."   

Back in 1996, I had no idea that the conversation I began having with Professor Jerry W. Ward, Jr., who offered the Wright course, would have persisted so long. This April, when Ward and I exchange emails and have phone conversations about the release of  The Man Who Lived Underground, it will mark twenty-five years of us participating in extended discussions about Wright and his work. 

And what about transforming discussions to humanities projects? In 2003, I began learning from and working with Maryemma Graham on public humanities programming. She got me involved on projects related to Langston Hughes, Wright, Toni Morrison, and various Black poets. The announcement of this book has me thinking on renewed Wright programming.  

As preparation for The Man Who Lived Underground, I'll soon re-read and publish entries about "The Man Who Lived Underground."  

Related: 

• A Notebook on Richard Wright

Notations from a semester attending online talks

Alondra Nelson, Kinohi Nishikawa, Ruha Benjamin, Amitava Kumar

On the one hand, 2020 has been a terrible year. But I have to admit, at least in the realm of listening to several scholars and writers I admire present ideas, the year has been unusually positive. During the fall semester, I caught several presentations and talks that I would have otherwise missed. 

Simply put, I would not have had the financial resources and time to attend so many different lectures under normal circumstances. I tried to document some of what I viewed. Here's a roundup. 

Dometi Pongo and Lonnie G. Bunch III

In late July and early August, I caught a series of conversations between MTV journalist Dometi Pongo and Secretary of the Smithsonian Lonnie G. Bunch III. For their focal points, they considered movements, marches, music, media, and memory, and I really enjoyed the intergenerational nature of their exchanges.  

On August 5, I attended (online, virtually of course) a presentation celebrating the enduring legacy of Toni Morrison. The event was sponsored by the Toni Morrison Society (TMS). The speakers for the event were Edwidge Danticat, Farah Jasmine Griffin, Deborah McDowell, Maryemma Graham, Imani Perry, Yolanda Pierce, TMS president, Dana Williams, and TMS founder, Carolyn Denard. 

Maryemma Graham, Edwidge Danticat, Deborah McDowell, Carolyn Denard

There were so many highlights from their discussions of Morrison. Among other things, it was really great hearing McDowell laughing and telling funny stories about her times with Morrison. A couple of my graduate students were surprised and moved to hear and see her, because they previously only had access to McDowell's serious scholarly voice, which I learned over time following her on Twitter, is just one small part of her multiple modalities as a communicator. "You gotta follow her on social media," I advised my students.

I'm an executive officer with the Toni Morrison Society, so I got to serve as a co-organizer for the event. But more important, I got to witness (and steal ideas from) Dana Williams on how to pull off big projects. I've been stealing borrowing ideas from Maryemma Graham and Carolyn Denard as well.

On August 13, I attended a presentation where Susan Harris discussed her  book Mark Twain, the World, and Me: Following the Equator, Then and Now (2020). I was pleased to hear her discussing her inspiring book, which introduced me to some new, useful scholarly threads. I wish more senior scholars were in the position to pursue an expansive research-travel project like the one Harris produced.  

In September, I caught a presentation by superhero who disguises herself as the mild-mannered scholar, Alondra Nelson. She was outstanding as usual, and in this instance, I was reminded of her marvelous cross-disciplinary reading powers.  

And one point during her presentation, Nelson highlighted the work of scholar Ruha Benjamin, who is well known for studying and writing about the social dimensions of science, technology, and medicine. Sure enough, the next week, I caught Benjamin giving a presentation an displaying her skills as an adept cultural and scholarly mix master. 

On November 10, historian Stefan Bradley gave a talk at my university as part of a first-generation college celebration event. Bradley was informative, amusing, and most of all inspiring. More than one of my first-year college students informed me that they had not expected to laugh so much during a presentation by an accomplished scholar.   

On November 11, I attended the writing program at Columbia University's Nonfiction Dialogue series, which featured Amitava Kumar. He's an astonishingly prolific writer, and hearing him discuss his beginning and journeys as a writer were fascinating for me to consider. 

Last week, I caught a presentation by the visual artist and creatively engaging reader, John Jennings hosted by the Margaret Walker Center. A couple of days later, the Center hosted a "75th Anniversary of Black Boy," on Richard Wright, which included the panelists Jerry W. Ward, Jr., Kiese Laymon, Charlie Braxton, Kevin Powell, Wright's daughter Julia Wright, moderated by C. Liegh McInnis, who also moderated the presentation by Jennings.

Finally, two days ago, I caught "Roundtable on New Directions in African American Studies and Book History: Part 1," involving the scholars Rhae Lynn Barnes, Brenna Greer, Derrick Spires, and Kinohi Nishikawa. I've been following Spires's and Nishikawa's works for a few years now, and getting to check them out recently affirmed my belief that I'll be learning from them for many years to come.

The aforementioned talks are just the ones that I can easily recall. I'm probably leaving something out. I sometimes wish that blogging culture among African American literary scholars and others was a little more robust as we might get a chance to document and comment even more on what we learned from various presentations. 

Related:

• A Notebook on Black Intellectual Histories

Haley Reading Group: Batman and the Outsiders, Part 7

[Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

So we've reached the end of this first installment of Batman and the Outsiders. In Part 7, "Call Me Ishmael." This issue is hardly a conclusion, with so many things still unresolved. 

When the issue opens, Ishmael has Signal in chains, and on the other hand, Katana and Black Lightning, have rescued Sofia nonetheless have her in handcuffs as they transport on her plane back to Gotham. 

Bryan Hill performs some really interesting multithreading by presenting these two storylines of escape. On the one hand, we see Oprah leading a daring effort to rescue Signal from a moving van. And we see Ra's Al Ghul communicating with Sofia, inspiring her to break her cuffs and free herself. There's also the matter of Kaliber's betrayal. 

What did you think about this issue? Or, what did you find yourself responding to in a strong way as you read? 

Haley Reading Group: Black Panther, Fantastic Four #52

[Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

Fantastic Four #52 introduces this then new, mysterious character. This issue was from July 1966, and marked the first appearance of Black Panther. 

There's so much to consider in this issue in comparison to what we've been recently reading with Black Panther in the lead role. In this 1966 issue, the writing style, drawing, and coloring are much different than what we have now. Even the design of pages are notable. Here, we have far more five and six square-panel pages. 

As a guest in a Fantastic Four book, white characters are quite prevalent.  In addition, the attire of Wakandans looks much different back then in comparison to depictions of their clothing in recent issues of Black Panther. It's a minor issue, but notice that back then, Black Panther wore a cape.   

What did you find most interesting or surprising about this issue involving the first appearance of Black Panther? Briefly explain why the aspect of the comic that you pointed out was notable to you. 

Haley Reading (Group B) -- American Spy, Chapters 25 - 28

 [Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

In the last four chapters of American Spy, Lauren Wilkinson reveals how Marie went to Martinique, nursed her pregnancy and birthed her twin sons. Then, she returned to Connecticut where she encountered the experience at the beginning of the story. Meanwhile, Marie had received a threatening mail from Ross, and she had decided to leave her kids with her mother at Martinique, while she returns to America to find Ross and “do him violence.”

 

In the last chapter of the novel, Marie expressed her love and advice for her sons: “I love you. I hope you grow into men who are the best part of your father and me. I hope that if you’re called to resist injustice, you’ll have the courage to do so. I hope you’ll love fiercely and freely. In those ways, I hope you’ll be good Americans” 289).

Which of the events presented in the concluding scenes of American Spy did you find to be most interesting? Why?

Haley Reading (Group A) -- American Spy, Chapters 25 - 28

[Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

In the concluding chapters of American Spy, Wilkinson presents Marie’s experiences, from her trip to Ghana till the time she got to Connecticut, where the incident presented at the opening of novel took place. This incident made Marie return to Martinique with her sons. However, Marie would leave her sons with her mother at Martinique while she goes to America to find and retaliate against Ross. 

“I hate that I have to leave you. Going to find Ross, having to do him violence, might take me away from the most revolutionary work I could do,” she says (289). 

What are your thoughts on the concluding scenes of American Spy?

Margaret Walker, poetry, and crime writing

For several years now, I'm covered Margaret Walker's poem "Stagolee," about the notorious bad man, in my African American literature courses, especially the courses I teach comprised of first-year Black men students. I usually cover that poem and Etheridge Knight's "Shine" as opening poems in the unit I do focusing on bad men. 

Moving forward, however, I plan to present Walker's "Stagolee" as well as her poem "Kissie Lee," about a woman who kills a man who had "done her dirt long time ago." In addition to presenting the poems as bad men and women poems, I will include the pieces as part of a unit on crime writing.

The last few years, the unit I cover on crime with my students has been their favorite. We usually talk about true crimes. The unit emerged as guys were constantly talking to me about gun violence cases, and in recent years, it seems every, I mean, every young Black woman in my class expressed an opinion about the infamous Kenneka Jenkins case. They are not alone; as some have reported, women have fueled the growth of true crime podcasts.

Poetry is usually on the sidelines in the discussions we are having, because relatively few notable poets we cover are thought of as covering the kinds of crimes that students find most troubling and captivating. We could definitely say racism is a crime, right? Well, there are many poems dealing with that topic, but somehow it doesn't come up as much in discussions of crime writing. 

But Walker's "Stagolee" and "Kissie Lee" definitely fit within the conversations. Too, the poems, especially the one on Stagolee, demonstrate what it means for African Americans to hear about and continually pass along a crime story. The story of Lee Shelton (Stagolee) is one of our most famous murder ballads. 

Producing tales about Stagolee and Kissie Lee empowered Walker to assume the role of crime writer.

Related: 

• A notebook on Bad Men: Creative Touchstones of Black Writers 

• A Notebook on bad men in poetry

Derrick Spires, Kinohi Nishikawa, and Notes on Black Book History

Yesterday, I attended a virtual session, "Roundtable on New Directions in African American Studies and Book History: Part 1." The event was sponsored by the Mahindra Humanities Center at Harvard. I attended in large part because someone made me aware that two scholars, Derrick Spires and Kinohi Nishikawa, whose works I follow, would be presenting. I've followed their work separately so I thought it would cool to see them presenting in a common space. 

It turns out that I also got to check out thoughtful presentations by two historians--Rhae Lynn Barnes and Brenna Greer, who were also on the panel. Barnes discussed aspects of white supremacy, especially white people wearing blackface, and its print manifestations. Greer discussed the September 15, 1955 issue of Jet magazine, which was the issue that featured the famous, gruesome images of Emmett Till.  

Spires presented on writers who published in The Aliened American, a Black newspaper from the mid-nineteenth century. Nishikawa discussed components of Aleshea Harris's play Is God Is (2016) as well as an audio production of the play in July 2020.  

The four presenters were each giving brief talks on a specific artifact that they had selected. 

Spires, author of The Practice of Citizenship Black Politics and Print Culture in the Early United States (2019), does work in nineteenth-century African American literature, while Nishikawa has produced works on African American literary history and print culture studies related to the twentieth century.  

Some of my research interests overlap with Nishikawa's, but I enjoyed thinking about the span of time and productions between Spires and Nishikawa. They both happened to be highlighting works by Black women and print culture. Spires concentrated on writers who wrote under pseudonyms, a practice that was employed widely and for purposes I was unaware of until I heard the presentation.    

By the time Nishikawa presented, I expected to only be thinking about book history, but his discussion of ways that Harris's play suggested directions about sound had my mind exploring the convergence of print and audio.     

I don't always have good things to say about the circumstances that have pushed us to Zoom. However, I was thankful that I got to attend a session like this one. This semester, I have caught presentations by Alondra Nelson, Ruha Benjamin, John Jennings, and others giving presentations in virtual settings, and now this roundtable. Outside of a conference, it would've been unlikely for me to catch these various talks in face-to-face settings.

Related:

• Alondra Nelson, Society after Pandemic & cross-disciplinary reading

• When John Jennings engages Henry Dumas and Amiri Baraka

• Ruha Benjamin on social dimensions of science, tech, race, and more

• Notes on the Enduring Legacy of Toni Morrison event

A checklist of works by John Jennings

Visual artist, curator, and organizer, John Jennings has collaborated with several artists, including Stacey Robinson and Damian Duffy, among others to produce an outstanding body of work over the years. Following up on a presentation that Jennings gave recently, I wanted to offer a brief, incomplete checklist of some of the works he's published with folks since 2010. 

2010: Black Comix: African American Independent Comics, Art and Culture creative directors Damian Duffy and John Jennings

2014: Kid Code #1 written by Duffy, Jennings, Robison; pencils by Robinson, ink by Jennings

2015: The Blacker the Ink: Constructions of Black Identity in Comics and Sequential Art edited by Frances Gateward and John Jennings

2015: Black Kirby: In Search of the MotherBoxx Connection (second edition): John Jennings and Stacey Robinson

2015: APB: Artists against Police Brutality edited by Bill Campbell, Jason Rodriguez, and John Jennings

2016: Blue Hand Mojo #1: Dust to Dust by John Jennings

2017: Blue Hand Mojo: Hard Times Road by John Jennings

2017: Kindred: A Graphic Novel Adaptation adapted by Damian Duffy and John Jennings 

2017: I Am Alfonso Jones by Tony Medina with artwork by John Jennings and Stacey Robinson

2018: Cosmic Underground: A Grimoire of Black Speculative Discontent edited by Reynaldo Anderson and John Jennings

2018: Box of Bones #1: written by Ayize Jama-Everett and Jennings; art by Jennings

2020: Parable of the Sower: A Graphic Novel Adaptation adapted by Damian Duffy and John Jennings 

2020: Black Comix Returns creative directors Damian Duffy and John Jennings

2020: John Jennings: Conversations by edited by Donna-lyn Washington

2021: After the Rain adapted by John Jennings, illustrated by David Brame

Organizational work:

• Co-founder/organizer of The Schomburg Center's Black Comic Book Festival

• Co-founder and organizer of the MLK NorCal's Black Comix Arts Festival in San Francisco

Book covers:

2013: Black Comics: Politics of Race and Representation edited by Sheena C. Howard and Ronald L. Jackson

2013: The Black Activist (fall)

2013: Afrofuturism: The World of Black Sci-Fi and Fantasy Culture by Ytasha L. Womack

2015: Octavia's Brood: Science Fiction Stories from Social Justice Movements edited by Walidah and adrienne maree brown

2015: Afrofuturism 2.0: The Rise of Astro-Blackness edited by Reynaldo Anderson and Charles E. Jones

2016: Dusu #1 Variant

2017: Menthu #6

2019: Sunspot Jungle: The Ever Expanding Universe of Fantasy and Science Fiction edited by Bill Campbell

2019: Afrofuturism Rising by Isaiah Lavender III (cover by Jennings and Stacey Robinson)

Related:

• When John Jennings engages Henry Dumas and Amiri Baraka

When John Jennings engages Henry Dumas and Amiri Baraka

Jennings's imaginings of objects from stories by Dumas and Baraka

The Black Arts poet-essayist Larry Neal once mentioned a question he and his comrades used to raise: "what if James Brown read [Franz] Fanon?" It was a way of imagining Brown engaging Black radical writing and concepts. I was recently confronted with a new idea. What happens when a Black visual artist reads Critical Race Theory and Henry Dumas and Amiri Baraka?

Jennings's on Baraka's "Pig Detector"

Last night, visual artist John Jennings gave a talk, "Cyborgs and Crossroads," as part of a series hosted by the Margaret Walker Center at Jackson State University. Throughout the talk, Jennings revealed his deep and widespread reading and thinking across African American literary and critical thought. What separates Jennings from most other readers in this realm though is that he regularly produces related illustrations. 

Throughout his talk, Jennings presented selections of his works, which have been produced over a long period of time. I was really moved by images he and Stacey Robinson produced based on readings of stories by Dumas and Baraka. One image was based on the mythical instrument that appears in Dumas's short story "Will the Circle Be Unbroken," and the other image of a shoe with a propeller, emerges from Jennings's and Robinson's reading of Amiri Baraka's story "Mchawi," where the author mentions shoes that allow flight. 

Jennings showed another image from Baraka's story "Pig Detector."  Here, Jennings and Robinson imagine and illustrate a device Baraka mentions from the story that senses of-duty police officers. It was really fascinating to see Jennings giving new life to works by one of our greatest writers -- Amiri Baraka. 

But look, to only focus on those images touches the tip of the iceberg. Jennings and his collaborators have been engaging African American literature and the critical framework Afrofuturism in his work for years and through dozens, if not hundreds, of images. Jennings collaborated with Damian Duffy on graphic novel adaptions of Octavia Butler's books Kindred (2017) and Parable of the Sower (2020). Jennings and Robinson illustrate Tony Medina's young adult graphic novel I Am Alfonso Jones (2017). That's just a small sample of Jennings' prolific output (Here's a checklist of some of his works). 

The talk that Jennings gave last night offered a quick overview of projects that he has done and what he's doing. Essayist, poet, and editor C. Liegh McInnis served as the moderator, and thinking on Jennings's work gave me new ways of considering some of McInnis's discussions of imagery in Black poetry.  

More than that, McInnis is really engaging, creative, and something of a militant humorist in the spirit of Malcolm. At one point as they discussed Afrofuturism, McInnis said, "the notion of who's civilized often has to do with how much mass destruction you can cause through technology." In other words, Eurocentricism and white supremacy imposed upon others through a multitude of machines and devices, real and figurative. The way McInnis said that and other points were humorous and painfully true.   

There's so much more to say about Jennings' career as an artist, curator, and organizer. I hope to provide a few more pieces soon. 

Haley Reading (Group A) -- American Spy, Chapters 21 – 24

 [Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

The story is moving towards the end, getting more interesting also. By chapter twenty-three of American Spy, Wilkinson reveals how Marie and Thomas got intimate at the hotel room, thereby, Marie conceiving her twin sons. Meanwhile, Marie has come to Ghana to inform Thomas about Ross and Slater’s plot to kill him (Thomas). Shockingly, Thomas would rather die than give up on his political views.

“I’m not afraid of death, only if not having done enough of having failed out of laziness. I’m prepared to fight until the end against that,” he says (248).

Thomas’s reaction towards the plot of his own death is surprising.

What are your thoughts about Thomas’s reaction when Marie told him about Slater’s plot to kill him? 

Haley Reading (Group B) -- American Spy, Chapters 21 – 24

 [Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

In chapters twenty-one through twenty-four of American Spy, Wilkinson presents a few notable scenes. For instance, in chapter twenty-three, Marie thought it necessary to protect Thomas from Slater’s plot to kill him (Thomas). Marie desperately wanted to prevent that plot.

“I’d failed to protect my sister from Slater’s corrosion, but I could still protect Thomas,” she says (243).

Marie later killed Slater in chapter twenty-four.

What scene stood out to you from chapters twenty-one through chapter twenty-four? Why?

Haley Reading Group: Batman and the Outsiders, Part 6

[Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

Part 6 of Batman and the Outsiders begins with a Signal (Duke Thomas) and Orphan (Cassandra Cain) facing off against Ishmael. After some struggles, Ishmael flees and beckons Signal and Orphan to follow. They end up encountering Orphan's distant mother, Lady Shiva. 

For now, Signal and Orphan are defeated. More important, it appears that they being encouraged to view Batman as deceptive and hiding truths from them. It is revealed that Ra's Al Ghul is behind the plan to raise doubts about Batman. 

This issue is notable in some ways based on absences. Two of the main heroes -- Batman and Black Lightning -- are not physically present. Some readers are annoyed when central heroes are not present in an issue. What difference, if any, did the absence of marquee heroes make for you? Briefly explain why it mattered or did not matter to you. 

Haley Reading Group: Black Panther, Chapter 4

 [Haley Reading groups Fall 2020]

There's relatively little action in chapter 4 of Black Panther, as this issue is devoted primarily to building storylines. Much of that is developed through conversations.

We have T'Challa speaking with his leadership council about recent events and next steps. There's a discussion between Ramonda and Changamire. We have a meeting between the Midnight Angels and Tetu. Then, T'Challa and Ramonda. Then Zeze Stane and Tetu.

Some reviewers complained that there is too much dialogue in some issues of Black Panther. Did you view it as necessary in this issue? And, beyond that, which conversation were you most interested in in this issue? Why? 

Stagger Lee, Murder Ballads, Laura Morris, and me

I've listened to many podcasts over the last few years, but I've struggled to come across episodes -- scripted ones -- that deal with African American arts and culture. For this reason, I was especially excited when Laura Morris reached out and asked me to share some thoughts for an upcoming episode of her podcast, Murder Ballads.  

The show is about songs, specifically murder ballads, derived from true crimes. The podcast is a really inventive concept, and then it's one that has been hiding in plain sight for so long.

Morris contacted me for her Stagger Lee episode. The figure is also known as Stagolee, Stack-o-Lee, and Stack Lee. He's one of our most well-known bad men, and I was invited to contribute based on my research and writing on the subject of bad men.

Like other episodes in the series, the Stagger Lee episode includes comments from scholars, musicians, and excerpts from songs. The Stagger Lee songs and folktales are based on this man Lee Shelton who committed a murder in 1895 in St. Louis. The tall tales, songs, and reimagining that emerged following Shelton's crime became crucial to the domain of bad man tales that have persisted over more than a century now. 

From a scholarly perspective, I was particularly impressed by the research that Morris did and how she managed to filter my comments and those from her other interview subjects into a short, compact episode. Morris clearly has a talent for gathering large bodies of information, synthesizing what she has learned, and then presenting useful observations and conclusions. 

From the perspective of a podcast listener, I enjoyed hearing the mix of speaking voices and music. This episode includes excerpts from Mississippi John Hurt's "Stack-O-Lee" (1928), a prisoner named Bama singing "StackerLee" in 1947, Lloyd Price's "Stagger Lee" (1958), and James Brown's "Stagger Lee" (1967). 

At one point, musician and cultural historian Dom Flemons sings a portion of a song featuring Stagger Lee. During the episode, Flemons also provided information on the music and history of music dealing with this bad man.  

Marcus Thorne Bagala and Bobby Lord who handle the music and mixing for the series, show skill in what they do. And they also have to be, I imagine, really enjoying themselves. For this episode, they were bringing in music from across varied decades--showing varied styles and genres. They're playing the role of public audio historians. 

It's been one thing for me to research and talk to students about Stagolee, Shine, and other bad men over the years. Listening to this episode of "Stagger Lee," though, placed me into a larger conversation and musical experience. 

Related: 

• A notebook on Bad Men: Creative Touchstones of Black Writers