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Amanda Gorman
mesmerized a nation with her inauguration poem “The Hill We
Climb.” The beauty of her presence and the power of her words
captured a country battle-scarred and looking for a lifeline. “After
four years in a dark wilderness, she was like a ray of sunshine and a
burst of hope which had been in too short a supply for far too long,”
Cambridge Councilwoman E. Denise Simmons said.
The
22-year-old recent Harvard grad and spoken-word poet honed her skills
around the Boston poetry scene. Gorman follows the august footsteps
of presidential poets Robert Frost and Maya Angelou. She is one of
the new voices continuing the African American women’s literary
tradition – blending writing with activism. She adds to a long
and storied tradition of poets Angelo, Audre Lorde, Nikki Giovanni,
Sonia Sanchez, Ntozake Shange, and Gwendolyn Brooks, to name a few.
The
words and wisdom of these sister-poets continue to anchor so many
black women through hardship, uncertainty, and loss. Their stories
empower and affirm us and are guides for self-care and survival.
These women have informed Gorman’s poems and are the shoulders
on which she stands. And, Gorman knows this. “I repeat a mantra
to myself: ‘I am the daughter of Black writers, we are
descended from freedom fighters who broke their chains and changed
the world. They call me,’” Gorman proudly shared in an
interview with PopSugar.com
Gorman
was tasked to write on the inauguration’s theme, “America
United.” It was a tall request to fulfill given the civil
unrest of last summer and the recent Capitol siege. However, Gorman,
being an extraordinarily confident and gifted writer, delivered,
crafting a poem - part personal, political, and prophetic. The poem
spoke honestly in the moment while suggesting a future America can
become.
“Now
more than ever, the United States needs an inaugural poem,”
Gorman told the New
York Times.
“Poetry is typically the touchstone that we go back to when we
have to remind ourselves of the history that we stand on, and the
future that we stand for.”
As
the nation’s first youth poet laureate and the nation’s
youngest inaugural poet, Gorman has got America talking about
herself, especially among Black women.
”This
young woman framed the concept of a nation that is not broken, merely
unfinished, yet accurately reflecting the mood that if we all work to
move beyond the bitterness, the vitriol, and the inflammatory
language, we can strive to make our tomorrows better than our
yesterday,” Simmons said.
Growing
up in the era of the Obama presidency and now with Vice President
Kamala Harris becoming the first woman and person of color as vice
president, Gorman espouses an optimism about the future that I’d
expect to hear from Generation Z.
“Where
a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single
mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting
for one,” Gorman said in her inaugural poem.
Gorman
sees barriers broken for her and other black girls’ futures.
However, this country’s troubling history continues to have
stubborn, unyielding, and systematic ways of tainting a possible
future. And, the backbones of Black women carrying this nation leave
some resolved that America is not ready to change. Blacks and other
people of color are still battling voter suppression, police
brutality, mass incarceration, health disparities, COVID, and
policies that don’t help them. Many sisters hope this new and
aspirational Biden-Harris administration will be more of substance
than the symbolism of black and brown representation. Perhaps then,
Black women can actualize Gorman’s vision.
“I
see the world quite differently than this beautiful and talented
young woman. I’m not sure that she is talking to me. I am tired
of being the resilient one. The one that has to carry the Republic on
our backs as we “step out of the shade of flame and unafraid.”
I am afraid and tired. I am not hopeful. I don’t see the light
as something that is for my people or me - but I’m glad that
the young sister sees the light and believes it is for her and
others. Yes, the light has always been there, but it isn’t
necessarily for black folks except to occasionally shine on our
suffering, deaths, murders, inequities, etc.,” Armenta Hinton
of Central Pennsylvania shared with me.
Gorman
and Hinton express the bookends of varying views I’ve heard
from black women across generations. I love Gorman’s poem. It
envisions a future America many of us hope for - a multicultural
democracy and a participatory government. However, I am cautious and
caught between Gorman’s youthful optimism and Hinton’s
lived-reality.
The
Hill We Climb
By
Amanda
Gorman
When
day comes we ask ourselves,
where
can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The
loss we carry,
a
sea we must wade
We've
braved the belly of the beast
We've
learned that quiet isn't always peace
And
the norms and notions
of
what just is
Isn’t
always just-ice
And
yet the dawn is ours
before
we knew it
Somehow
we do it
Somehow
we've weathered and witnessed
a
nation that isn’t broken
but
simply unfinished
We
the successors of a country and a time
Where
a skinny Black girl
descended
from slaves and raised by a single mother
can
dream of becoming president
only
to find herself reciting for one
And
yes we are far from polished
far
from pristine
but
that doesn’t mean we are
striving
to form a union that is perfect
We
are striving to forge a union with purpose
To
compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters
and
conditions
of man
And
so we lift our gazes not to what stands between us
but
what stands before us
We
close the divide because we know, to put our future first,
we
must first put our differences aside
We
lay down our arms
so
we can reach out our arms
to
one another
We
seek harm to none and harmony for all
Let
the globe, if nothing else, say this is true:
That
even as we grieved, we grew
That
even as we hurt, we hoped
That
even as we tired, we tried
That
we’ll forever be tied together, victorious
Not
because we will never again know defeat
but
because we will never again sow division
Scripture
tells us to envision
that
everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree
And
no one shall make them afraid
If
we’re to live up to our own time
Then
victory won’t lie in the blade
But
in all the bridges we’ve made
That
is the promised glade
The
hill we climb
If
only we dare
It's
because being American is more than a pride we inherit,
it’s
the past we step into
and
how we repair it
We’ve
seen a force that would shatter our nation
rather
than share it
Would
destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy
And
this effort very nearly succeeded
But
while democracy can be periodically delayed
it
can never be permanently defeated
In
this truth
in
this faith we trust
For
while we have our eyes on the future
history
has its eyes on us
This
is the era of just redemption
We
feared at its inception
We
did not feel prepared to be the heirs
of
such a terrifying hour
but
within it we found the power
to
author a new chapter
To
offer hope and laughter to ourselves
So
while once we asked,
how
could we possibly prevail over catastrophe?
Now
we assert
How
could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?
We
will not march back to what was
but
move to what shall be
A
country that is bruised but whole,
benevolent
but bold,
fierce
and free
We
will not be turned around
or
interrupted by intimidation
because
we know our inaction and inertia
will
be the inheritance of the next generation
Our
blunders become their burdens
But
one thing is certain:
If
we merge mercy with might,
and
might with right,
then
love becomes our legacy
and
change our children’s birthright
So
let us leave behind a country
better
than the one we were left with
Every
breath from my bronze-pounded chest,
we
will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one
We
will rise from the gold-limbed hills of the west,
we
will rise from the windswept northeast
where
our forefathers first realized revolution
We
will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the midwestern states,
we
will rise from the sunbaked south
We
will rebuild, reconcile and recover
and
every known nook of our nation and
every
corner called our country,
our
people diverse and beautiful will emerge,
battered
and beautiful
When
day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame
and unafraid
The
new dawn blooms as we free it
For
there is always light,
if
only we’re brave enough to see it
If
only we’re brave enough to be it
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