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 Roots to Rap
Rahiel Tesfamariam
Columnist Page
Friday, December 17, 2004; Page 17
A Love Affair with Words
Just as a young child sneaks away to unlock family treasures and mysteries hidden away in an attic, writers often find that words bring forth things deep within them that no one ever knew existed. Discovering that one’s purpose on this earth is to take hold of those words, twist them, mold them, transform them and redefine them is not a career path; it is a calling.
We, as writers, eagerly hide behind a mist of symbolism, retreating from the world through the written and spoken word. As our inner most thoughts are whispered onto the ears of the world, it becomes the duty of the listener to hear what we are trying our best not to say. Oftentimes, it is only in the creativity of those who share our love for the art that we can feel understood.
It was a teacher’s aide from Howard University that first introduced me to poetry. Handing me a copy of Eloise Greenfield’s “Honey, I Love and Other Love Poems”, she asked me to take the book home, memorize the poem “Honey, I Love” and be prepared to recite it in front of my third grade class.
Anyone who has ever read that poem knows that it has a soulfulness about it that is rich and inviting. Poetry like that has the power to rewind the hands of time, taking us back to the days when little Black girls played Hopscotch, little Black boys raced each other from one end of the sidewalk to the other and Grandmamma was old, wrinkled and overweight.
Years later, I discovered Nikki Giovanni’s “Ego Tripping” and my life was forever changed. That poem commanded me to love myself, my sisters and my people, at a time when my friends and I collected books like “Sweet Valley High” and watched White girls living out the American Dream on TV shows like “Full House”. I love Giovanni for sharing those thoughts of Afro-centric self-love with the world; I love her for daring to tell Black women that they are beautiful and “so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal.”
But it is the artistry of youthful genius that inspires me today. Lauryn Hill, Saul Williams, Will Power and those like them inspire me to demand a space in the world and to have the courage to carve one out if none yet exists. There will always be opposition, but battles are meant to be fought.
Danielle Moore, 22, who is perhaps the most phenomenal poet that I have ever had the pleasure of befriending, said of her love for the art: “Poetry gave me the courage to run toward fear, like a firefighter into a burning building. It forced me to realize what it means to be human and moved me to make an impact on the lives of those around me. Poetry is a language that unites warring countries and bridges generations. It enlivens spirits, emboldens dreams and ignites passions. There is much that is sacred in the art and few moments compare to when a really good poem penetrates a person so deeply that she or he departs from it changed.”
It is in poetry that “kindred spirits” are able to find one another, reunite and lay out the groundwork for revolutions untold. It is in the words of men and women who lived centuries before us that we are able to connect to struggles that we never experienced firsthand. It is in the poeticism of music that we find ourselves lost in the beauty of the Divine. It is words that we forget who we are and long to know something foreign.
But we must always remember, as Danielle says, that “poetry alone cannot stop wars, nor will it end poverty and homelessness. It cannot guarantee that all children receive a quality education or that little girls grow up without being violated. Poems do not serve in Congress, preside over courts, or manage multi-million dollar corporations. People do. While poetry appeals to those sensibilities that are universal to the human condition, it is people who are challenged to take another person’s reality into their lives and respond to it.”
For Rahiel Tesfamariam send email to rahielt@washingtoninformer.com. |
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