Poetry as protest
Art, for a long time, has been utilized as a medium for expressing discontent, for motivating mutiny, and more than most, as a means of massaging the mutilated bits of ourselves that have been broken by love, society, racism, or some other form of prejudice.
Photo by Josh Hild from Unsplash
“Protest beyond the law is not a departure from democracy; it is absolutely essential to it.”
Photo by Mike Vonn from Unsplash
The protests raging across the country for the past few days are viable and valid means of civil discontent, and one could say warranted, based on the build up of traumatic, public killings of black people in this country. It is in response to the hypocrisy of the messaging of this administration, claiming that any protest, violent or peaceful, done by black people is invalid, unreasonable, or worst, unpatriotic.
This country was built on the bodies of black people and was founded on the violent protests of patriots against the British regime. To claim that fighting for freedom, justice, and an end to prejudice is “unpatriotic” is one of the greatest intolerances of this administration, of the systematic racism that has permeated our society for as long as time can tell.
Physical protests are one way to express this discontent. Art is another.
Poetry stands as one of the essential means of expression. A little over a year ago, I went to an open mic night where the host performed spoken word poetry about the injustices done toward black people, and black men in particular. The fear, cruelty, and trauma born from decades of racism and violence broke through his voice, in the way he held himself on that stage, and I remember thinking about how poetry can be so much more than pretty words on a page.
“I look then at the silly walls
Through dark eyes in a dark face—
And this is what I know:
That all these walls oppression builds
Will have to go!”
Most of my writing stems from trauma. Protest poetry by all means does as well. Poetry stands to inspire people to action, shows humanity where others may be blinded to it, and gives voice to those who may not be able to express in any other way.
Think of Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou, Allen Ginsberg and Gwendolyn Brooks. Their voices were founded on protest in poetry, on saying something necessary in an impactful and otherwise cathartic way.
There’s a lot to be said and a lot that has been said about the deaths of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, and Breonna Taylor. There are privileges to recognize and justices to be done. There is widespread systematic change that must be made, which cannot be done by will or hope alone. We all play a part in this country, and our part is dependent on whether or not we decide to be on the right side of history.
There’s also a duty that we as writers must uphold - we must write what is necessary. We must make record, we must voice our shared, base trauma to inspire change, be change, instill it in the unconscious mindset of this nation.
By no means is it easy. But by all means is it necessary.
