I remember a specific entry about how I learned the "truth" about what makes a successful leader from Azim Ramelize, Assistant Deputy Commissioner of the Department of Children and Youth Services and another about time in Pilsen which led me to think about the the role and responsibility of Spanish-language learners in America, and many more about the role of artists in society. Unfortunately, as I rose up through the ranks of responsibility in the office I lost sight (just a little) of the unique access to raw experiences and fresh perspectives that I (not just our students) was meeting in the city in these last couple of years of "program directing."
Don't get me wrong. It's not that I ever forgot that I was learning or that I haven't been inspired to write by the community resources I have met through Chicago Center or experiences I have had in the city. Anyone who was at Chicago Center's 40th Anniversary Gala and heard me spit "Chicago Games" will tell you just the opposite is true. That moment on stage was an instance of extreme pride for me. I felt I had achieved in sharing my gifts with each other. I was in the presence of a community that was built on Chicago Center's mission, legacy and work and I had a place there as a member of the staff that makes student experiences possible, but I was also a poetic voice. It was an amazing opportunity for me. Yet and still, I don't think I have taken full advantage of all of the unique opportunities that lie in being a poet and Chicago Center Program Director. And maybe it's just that I've been trying to master both independently and haven't yet felt comfortable enough yet to bring them together very often. They are very distinct roles and aspects of my identity and I don't want to be perceived as less than professional in either regard, but I have decided I want to work harder to find places where my gifts and identities meet and feed each other.
The experience that was the final straw for motivating this blog entry happened today when I met a poet named Doreen Ambrose (Thanks to a phenomenal class assistant named Jess!). Ms. Ambrose grew up in Cabrini Green housing projects in Chicago. She was a pleasure to talk to and we all benefited from hearing about how her experiences in Cabrini, though almost 30 years past, still make it into her poems today. You can find her poetry and writing at http://cabrinigreen.webs.com/.
I will end this entry with this email I wrote her as soon as I got back to the office:
Ms. Doreen,
I just wanted to follow up with you because I was so honored to meet you today and as a young poet and writer who is not a native Chicagoan I would love to stay in touch and benefit from your insights, experiences and connections to the city. As I mentioned, I am particularly interested in finding local publishing outlets, where my work would have a chance of being published. I would also be looking to share the few resources that I have gained since being in Chicago. For example, my work at Black Freighter Productions has allowed me to edit two works (one poetry book and one anthology). You can find these by searching my name on amazon.com or at http://www.welovereading.com/. There is a chance we would do another anthology, in which case I would love to see some submissions from you!
Also, I read your piece titled, "Rap in Cabrini Green" and it was one of the best reflections on the journey of rap/rappers and what rap means to rap-lovers today. I also particularly enjoyed your ode to Cabrini Green. I wrote a similar piece, focusing on the process of gentrification occurring in the place that I come from in Tacoma, WA. I hope you enjoy it.
An Ode to the neighborhood formerly known as Hilltop
A
battered
(only once) white
woman drags half-black
Children down the steep 8th Street
Slope to sanctuary; past Yakima and
Tacoma Ave., past McDonald’s and County
Jail; past late night basketball at the “Y,” Just
above the industrial site where Father works hard
nights and not far from the strip where Mommy sold a
younger version of her body of dreams to nightmares.
Up on the Hill, young Ismails rumble, tumble, slip into cell
blocks or drown downtown in a sound of blood. Mothers and
Sisters sing from elevated Churches of God in Christ on every other corner,
opposite corner stores— meeting places: Daboshi’s, Crips-aco (Texaco), AM/PM, Hill
Top Pawn Shop on the corner of MLK Way (Used to be K St.) and 12th St (now called Earnest S.
Brazil), “some dead preacher” someone said. Bored black and tan faces stare, rocking tall
red shirts and beanies, blue rags in left pockets. A few O.G.’s remain but the “Down 4 Lyfe” California
Crips are gone like the nineties. No one notices a new college rising on the underside of the slippery slant;
a gourmet coffee and pizza population popping up, condos penetrating the gradient of blocks of bricks
and broken windows. On the Hill, we are multi ethnic, multiracial, poor/working/middle class; we are “a dream
coming true” but we've forgotten old Tuff- Tuff; he's no longer roaming and mumbling and Brown’s closed down; the streets
are much quieter now. Still no one on the Hill knows, cares, thinks about who controls the land. Welcome to Upper Tacoma,
where no one is rising.
(2009)
Tiffanie Beatty
A young and humble friend in poetry
This was a good read. You can always find precious jewels in Chicago like Doreen Ambrose. You never have to worry about finding inspiration. I will get into her work later.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting to think about the life of a poet. To be a successful poet( not just a good poet), poetry has to consume most of your life.Yeah, you can balance a career and poetry. A poet has a busy life;traveling,performing,book signings. I also think as we see the "takeover" of social media getting your work a global network has been made easy. So it may be possible to balance a career and the life of a poet. It depends on how you look at it.