Red Letter Poem #241

 The Red Letters

 

 

In ancient Rome, feast days were indicated on the calendar by red letters.

To my mind, all poetry and art serves as a reminder that every day we wake together beneath the sun is a red-letter day.

 

––Steven Ratiner

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Red Letter Poem #241

 

 

 

 

The Many Names

“black” (negro) once meant the color

of the “night sky” nigrum…

—Éric Morales-Franceschini





Once meant a line of demarcation so clear

As to be a sword.



Once meant wholly distinct. Extinction mark.

Attempt. Meant.



Many. Names for the status. Complex-

Ion. Description bade.



For the body. Its recovery. The body.

How like the dark obsidian



Mirror. Through which such strata surface.

And disappear in the night.

_________



Is deep black. Is coal black. Is Jet black. Is

Very black. Is handsome black.



Is pretty black. Is of dark color, but cannot

Be said to be black. Is of black cast.



But not the very blackest. Is a dark griff color.

A copper color. An olive colour.



A dark brown or ginger-bread color. Is of a pale

Complexion. Tawny. Yellow.



Is of a light color. Of a swarthy complection.

Of a brownish complexion.



Is blacker than common, with a remarkable

Roman nose. Is of a redish complexion.

_________



Is of the color of morning before first

Light. The color of cusp



And nerve. The color of mourning

Deferred.



––Danielle Legros Georges



“The term “race,” used infrequently before the 1500s, was used to identify groups of people with a kinship or group connection. The modern-day use of the term “race” (identifying groups of people by physical traits, appearance, or characteristics) is a human invention. . . This categorization of people became a justification for European colonization and subsequent enslavement of people from Africa.”

––from: “Talking About Race”

The National Museum of African American History and Culture



* * *

"I advance it, therefore, as a suspicion only, that the blacks, whether originally a distinct race, or made distinct by time and circumstance, are inferior to the whites in the endowment both of body and mind."

––from: Thomas Jefferson's "Notes of the State of Virginia" (1785)





We are each limited in our perspective. We’ve been––consciously and unconsciously––shaped by the societal and familial environment into which we were born. This is even true for a man thought of as a model of the Age of Enlightenment, Thomas Jefferson, whose blind spots about the subject of race were both considerable and tragic. So I must be mindful, circumspect in today’s Red Letter, acknowledging my own circumstance; after all, there’s no telling where my host of blind spots are lurking. I am an older white man living in the 21st century, commenting on the poem of a black woman who is writing specifically about the issue of race. And all this, in our especially volatile moment, at the dawn of a second Trump presidency which has already issued statements and policies concerning race and culture that are, to say the least, troubling. But what better way to welcome another Black History Month than to use this superb new poem by Danielle Legros Georges to shine a little light into even the darkest corners of the American experience. Learning leads to growth which makes survival possible.



Today’s poem is part of a sequence that will appear in a chapbook tentatively titled Acts of Resistance to New England Slavery by Africans Themselves in New England, scheduled to be published by Staircase Books. Danielle is a poet, translator, and editor; her most recent collections are: Three Leaves, Three Roots (Beacon Press), exploring her Haitian ancestry; and Blue Flare: Three Haitian Poets (Zephyr), a bilingual translation of three prominent women poets from that Central American nation. She is Professor Emeritus of creative writing at Lesley University; and was appointed as Boston’s second Poet Laureate from 2015 to 2019. The poems from this project are a result of her research into Black emancipatory practices under Northern slavery, and the experiences of fugitive slaves, reflected in run-away slave ads that appeared in area newspapers (which accounts for some of the idiosyncratic spellings used in “The Many Names.”)



Immediately, I was entranced by the rhythmic force of Danielle’s verse, the repetition and internal rhyme (sometimes, echoing like a signal drum; other times, the clang of manacles.) I remember visiting The National Museum of African American History and Culture, surprised by the many displays detailing the construction of this new concept about race as determined by skin color, rather than affinity group or hierarchy. Legislation in Virginia and South Carolina spent a great deal of care in defining what constituted black––and then, when so classified, all the prohibitions to be applied (for example, forbidding “enslaved African people from growing their own food, learning to read, moving freely, assembling in groups, and earning money. It also authorized white enslavers to whip and kill enslaved Africans for being ‘rebellious.’") It was made clear that the ability to read and write might allow for alliances between blacks and poor white people––quite the threat to the rich white landowner––and the othering portrayed by skin color was a powerful tool for dividing oppressed people. “The body/ How like the dark obsidian// Mirror. Through which such strata surface./ And disappear in the night.” After the objectifying language of the slave ads, the poet’s tone shifts and becomes that of celebration: “Is of the color of morning before first/ Light. The color of cusp// And nerve. The color of mourning/ Deferred.” Just the use of that final word cannot help but to call up in the ear the famous poem by Langston Hughes: “What happens to a dream deferred?/ Does it dry up/ Like a raisin in the sun?.../ Or does it explode?” The slave states got one thing right: if the potency contained in written language was acquired, the enslaved peoples could not possibly be contained indefinitely. They would grow into fully-empowered voices like Danielle’s. Some political forces today may try to (literally) whitewash the complex history of our nation, but more compelling voices will always find a way to be heard. Is it too much to hope that we finally broaden our perspective, learn from our mistakes?



“Hello, my old friend

You change your name but not the ways you play pretend

American Requiem

Them big ideas are buried here

Amen”



––Beyoncé from: “Ameriican Requiem”

(Cowboy Carter was just awarded the 2025 Grammy for Album of the Year)

 

 

 

 

Red Letters 3.0

 

 

 

* If you would like to receive these poems every Friday in your own in-box – or would like to write in with comments or submissions – send correspondence to:

steven.arlingtonlaureate@gmail.com

 

 

* To learn more about the origins of the Red Letter Project, check out an essay I wrote for Arrowsmith Magazine:

https://www.arrowsmithpress.com/community-of-voices

 

and the Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene

http://dougholder.blogspot.com

 

* For updates and announcements about Red Letter projects and poetry readings, please follow me on BlueSky

@stevenratiner.bsky.social

and on Twitter          

@StevenRatiner

 

And coming soon:

a new website to house all the Red Letter archives!