250 Years of Struggle & Song and Indy Reads

Cover image of African American Poetry:
250 Years of Struggle & Song (fourth printing)

O Black and *Known* Bards...

I try to sustain a regular poetry-reading practice. This year, I set myself the challenge of reading the Library of America's 2020 anthology of African American poetry--968 pages of poetry over the course of 12 months. I've taken many breaks for stand-alone volumes, but I started in January and am set to finish by the end of December. All I need to do is read about 5 pages a day for the rest of the year, so I could finish early.

My intent with WIRAWIGI is generally to wait until I've finished a book, or at least stopped reading it, before reviewing it. I'm just about 90% of the way there now, though, and this post will give me further incentive to meet my target. (Inviting the external surveillance, Monsieur Foucault...)

Most of the time, I read the poems aloud. Doing so slows me down in helpful ways, and tunes me in to the sound and the sense more fully. 

As a rule, I prefer single volumes by individual poets, discrete titles reflecting poems curated by the poets themselves, with their editors, intentionally to fit together. Anthologies are not my preference, and I even try to avoid "selected poems" editions by individual poets. I'll explain more about why that is another time.

I'm not an expert on the canon Kevin Young engages here. I'm immensely grateful, though, for the doors his efforts have opened for my reading--introducing me to key influencers in the history of American letters, not to mention history, and turning me on to poets I haven't yet encountered. As a general rule, I'm inclined to be more trusting of the choices as "canonical" the farther in the past they are, but I am eager to get through the last 10% of the work to see what other poets I might meet and begin following now.

Some highlights for me:

* An introduction to Angelina Weld Grimké. Her works in this volum were wonders in and of themselves, and the encounter with them led me to Kerri K. Greenidge's The Grimkes: The Legacy of Slavery in an American Family I will write more about that book in another entry.

* Renewed appreciation of Gwendolyn Brooks as a marvel and a wonder. (I'm based in Chicago, and so this is somewhat boosted by some personal reasons. She is also, I believe, the only poet in the first 90% of the book whom I've heard read their works in person.)

* An introduction to Afaa M. Weaver, a Baltimore-based poet whom I had not previously encountered. I've picked up a solo work by him, and look forward to more. I grew up in Maryland and have ties to Baltimore. Weaver's work is but one example of how this anthology is stoking my To Be Read (TBR) pile.

* Finally, I was grateful for Young's inclusion of works by James Weldon Johnson. Johnson's "Lift Every Voice and Sing," dubbed the Black national anthem, has been proposed as a candidate for the National Hymn. It's a bit beside the point here, but my take on the First Amendment makes the idea of a National Hymn a non-starter. Absent this issue, though, I wouldn't object.

What was new to me, though, was Johnson's "O Black and Unknown Bards." The first stanza:

O black and unknown bards of long ago,

How came your lips to touch the sacred fire?

How, in your darkness, did you come to know

The power and beauty of the minstrel's lyre?

Who first from midst his bonds lifted his eyes?

Who first from out the still watch, lone and long,

Feeling the ancient faith of prophets rise

Within his dark-kept soul, burst into song? 

That this anthology reflects Young's curation of 250 years of struggle and song, and not 400, reflects at least a little of the contrast between the oral and musical literacies African folks brought to North America and the disparities in access to reading and writing literacies afforded to them and their descendants over those four centuries. Johnson's poem links the struggle and the song--an apt complement to "Lift Every Voice."

Yours truly and spouse visiting Indy Reads
December 1, 2024

Indy Reads...Together!

I picked up the discounted copy of the anthology on a December 2024 visit to the Indy Reads bookstore in Indianapolis. It's located in the Fountain Square area of Indy, southeast of downtown, and just east of the intersection of I-65 and I-70. Indy Reads is a local literacy non-profit driving a culture of 100% literacy, and the bookstore's proceeds help fund adult literacy programs in the region.

Led by the inimitable Ruba Marshood, Indy Reads provides a range of Adult Foundational Education, High School Equivalency, and English Language Learner programs for adults in the region. Indy Reads's web site cites levels of low literacy within Indiana as a key opportunity to rally in support of greater access to education, workforce development and generational impact. Their statistics state that 1 in 6 Indianans is reading below the adult equivalent of a 5th grade level. I'm not sure of the precise dates they are drawing from, but this data is not too far at odds with national-level statistics in the U.S. You can check out recent OECD data here.

Interior shot of Indy Reads Bookstore (K. Bigger)

As mission-based and mixed used & new bookstores go, the Indy Reads Bookstore supports a healthy critical mass of titles--with some strong curation by the booksellers as well as a fair amount of serendipity for the used book buyer. I'd rate it a medium sized shop, based on my experience across a range of cities and stores. 

My copy of the Library of America Anthology was likely a remainder copy, not used. They offered a nice discount, as well as offering a point-of-sale opportunity to make a donation to Indy Reads's vital mission.

Helpfully, the neighborhood also offers some strong dining options near by, so it can be well worth your while to stop through Indy Reads on your way through town. As I start to build out these posts, I'll revisit this one with a link to an interactive map that can allow you to chart your way there.

I'm generally of the opinion that we can make too much of the distinction between learning to read and reading to learn. They are at root both information-seeking behaviors, where we look for the tools, symbols, and experiences to help us navigate the world we live in with one another. Indy Reads offers a terrific opportunity to embody that solidarity in supporting both your learn journeys and those of others who might face greater barriers.