Java & Verse #1

Gwendolyn Brooks (1917 – 2000)

In honor of the writing community we know and love. I wanted to point out one of its legends for a few moments.

Gwendolyn Brooks in the poetry room at the Library of Congress in November 1985. (Bettmann, Getty Images)

She was the first ethnic minority to win the Pulitzer Prize on May 1, 1950. In school, when it came to black writers, Langston Hughes, Richard Wright, and James Baldwin were familiar names. I can’t say that my school overlooked Brooks, but she seemed overshadowed by more popular poets. I discovered her body of work much later in life after I started attempting to write poetry. After several phone calls to the poetry clan announcing my discovery, most laughed and asked, “What rock did you crawl out from under?” They reminded me that Maya Angelou and Nikki Giovanni were the “really important” African American poets. I couldn’t believe my discovery and continued my research into the body of her work, finally getting my hands on an autographed copy of one of her books. After that, she became one of my literary heroes.

Gwendolyn Brooks was born in 1917 in Topeka, Kansas, and she published her first poem at 13 years old. When I think about what I was doing at 13, though I was writing stories back then, I lacked the courage to publish my work. Brooks has written over twenty books of poetry.

I would have never written a poetic line if it hadn’t been for the work of Gwendolyn Brooks. of course, many could argue that Brooks had nothing to do with my talent or ability. This opinion may be accurate, but the crazy part, I did not know. However, if Brooks hadn’t made her accomplishments within the poetry community and society, she wouldn’t have changed the establishment’s mindset. She made poetry cool. By the time I discovered and understood the magic of her work, a published poet, I also taught workshops. With a blown mind and new respect for writing, I immersed myself in reading everything I could get my hands on.

Here’s an interview I found online that tells an interesting story about when she discovered she had won the Pulitzer Prize.

How remarkable is this woman? I remember staring at the screen, thinking I would never be that good. Forget winning the Pulitzer Prize or any other award. I might as well roll up my quills and clean out my inkwell. Yes, I wrote with a quill and had an inkwell on my writing table. I was feeling myself with a few poems published, and radio shows in the works. I turned down everything and went to my former profession. Then, one day, a former student appeared out of nowhere and asked me a question.

“Are you going to finish what you started?” She asked, straight-faced and unapologetically.

I didn’t answer her at that moment. She turned and walked away, leaving me spellbound and speechless. Then, while preparing dinner, I exclaimed, “How dare she call me out like that? Rolling up on me like I’m soft or something!” The class started in an hour. If I left then, I could make it. Walking into class, I rocked a “Free verse rules!” T-shirt and a raggedy pair of closed-toed Tevas. Absent the salutations and idle chitchat, I launched straight into an analysis of Rilke’s “Faces” with no notes, guide, or any of the traditional materials I usually had for class. I lectured like that for the next six weeks.

I ended that workshop with, “One must be bold to matter, yet humble to make a difference.”

Thank you, Ms. Brooks, for inspiring one of my favorite lines in my career. Teaching that lesson to all the writers I’ve helped has been an absolute honor.

Thank you for your support I truly appreciate it.