The requirements of real unity
Dear Good Ancestor,
Amanda Gorman. That's it. That's the tweet.
In case you've been living under a rock since Wednesday night, twenty-two year old Amanda Gorman, the first person to be named National Youth Poet Laureate in the US, recited her incredible poem "The Hill We Climb" at the inauguration of US President Joe Biden.
And honestly, I can't stop thinking about it.
What is it about her recital that has so thrilled me?
Seeing a Black woman on a platform with a mic and an audience always thrills me.
It is still not the norm to see Black women in such positions, even while we are praised for 'saving' everyone. Amanda was not only speaking to the audience at the inauguration event, or the US citizens watching from home. She was speaking to the entire world. And what she said was so deep, so moving, and so instructional - regardless of where in the world you live. We must continue to do the work to build a world where seeing Black women in positions of leadership, power, and influence is just as normal as seeing anyone else there. Believe me when I say, we have valuable thought leadership to bring to the table. We can show you how to build new (better) tables. Even better, we can show you how to scrap the tables concept and, in working together, build something entirely different that better serves all people.
Poetry always thrills me.
Actually, until a few years ago, I would not have said that I was a huge poetry fan. Although my daughter is named after Maya Angelou, I did not regularly read poetry. I think the types of poems we read at school never really resonated with me - they always felt like they were speaking a language that wasn't mine, even though they were in English. Things dramatically changed for me when I started reading the works of Black women poets. Audre Lorde, Lucille Clifton, Sonia Sanchez, and so many more. In her essay Poetry Is Not A Luxury, Audre Lorde helped me to understand the purpose of poetry: "Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives…. Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before." Amanda Gorman's poem certainly fulfilled and exceeded this purpose.
Seeing someone following in the footsteps of the living and transitioned ancestors who came before them always thrills me.
Though Amanda Gorman is not related to Elizabeth Alexander or Maya Angelou, I got chills as I watched her stand in the same spot her poet ancestors had done before, where they read the inaugural poems for past US presidents. They surely helped lay an important foundation. Amanda herself has spoken about the mantra she repeats before each recital in her 2018 TED Talk Using Your Voice Is A Political Choice, where she calls back her 'honorary ancestors'. Her mantra is: "I am the daughter of Black writers, who are descended from Freedom Fighters, who broke their chains and changed the world. They call me." This is a young woman who is clearly guided by her ancestors, who is striving herself to be a good ancestor. Chills.
The biggest thrill for me however, were the messages in her words.
In recent days we have heard calls for "Unity" and a return to “Being Civilized". But what I heard in Amanda's words is what I feel needs to be repeated again and again. Unity is not true unity without a true reckoning and repairing of the past and the present.
We must actually do the work.
As she says in her own words, we've learned that quiet isn't always peace. These words reminded me of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s 1956 sermon, When Peace Becomes Obnoxious. In it he preached:
"I had a long talk the other day with a man about this bus situation. He discussed the peace being destroyed in the community, the destroying of good race relations. I agreed that it is more tension now. But peace is not merely to absence of this tension, but the presence of justice. And even if we didn't have this tension, we still wouldn't have positive peace. Yes it is true that if the Negro accept his place, accepts explo[i]tation, and injustice, there will be peace. But it would be an obnoxious peace. It would be a peace that boiled down to stagnant complacity, deadening passivity and … If this means peace, I don't want peace."
As we look to live upto these higher ideals - Peace, Unity, and Hope - let us do so by pairing them with Truth.
Telling the truth.
Reckoning with the truth.
Healing from the truth.
Let us not look for the short relief of shallow truth that allows oppression to be forgotten and injustices to be swept under the rug.
Let us instead fiercely and lovingly demand from ourselves and one another a deep commitment to true unity, which can only be preceded by a deep commitment to truth and justice.
Thank you to Amanda Gorman, and the many Black poets, activists, and spiritual teachers who continue to remind us what the journey to real unity requires of us all.