Using Multimedia in Teaching Contemporary Black Women Poets

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Poet Nikky Finney

This term, I have been teaching a new course on contemporary Black women poets. I developed my course as an intervention in a literary canon (and a college course catalog) where Black women are under-represented—perhaps particularly Black women poets, and definitely contemporary Black women poets. I also selfishly wanted to teach a course in which I could teach some of my favorite books. Most of all, I wanted students to get a sense of what Black women are writing about now, and how they’re writing about it. Because of this, I wanted the class to be very contemporary—so instead of beginning with the Black Arts Movement and going forward, as I think many classes like this would do, I decided to impose a ten-year radius on the books I chose for class. Thus the books we read could not have been published before 2007. I reasoned that that students could learn about the Black Arts Movement in another class, but might not have another chance to read, say, Ashley Jones’s 2017 collection Magic City Gospel. In limiting the books in this way, I wanted to explore a couple of questions: What does our current poetic moment have to say to our cultural and political moment? How do issues of subject and form and language in poets intersect with issues of gender and race now, rather than 20 or 30 or 40 years ago? These are a couple of questions we have been exploring this term.

Here are the books I ended up teaching (in this order) in our ten-week course:

  • Monica Hand, me & nina (2010)
  • Natasha Trethewey, Thrall (2012)
  • Robin Coste Lewis, Voyage of the Sable Venus (2015)
  • Erica Dawson, The Small Blades Hurt (2014)
  • Ashley Jones, Magic City Gospel (2017)
  • Patricia Smith, Blood Dazzler (2008)
  • Nikky Finney, Head Off & Split (2011)
  • Claudia Rankine, Citizen (2014)
  • t’ai freedom ford, how to get over (2017)

(My original list of possible books for the course had about twenty more books on it! Let me know in the comments section if you’d like me to send you this list. This list represents a great deal of formal variety, which is the main reason I chose this particular slate of poets. There are also some other great choices here and here.)

A class like this is so different from the nineteenth century American literature courses I often teach. In those courses, our interactions with the authors are literary-critical and archival. There are established critical lenses we can look through, but what we can know about the writers themselves is limited to their works and to the archives they left behind (or didn’t, in many cases). In a course on contemporary poets, however, I knew that while our biggest challenge would be finding good critical sources, given that the work is so new, we would also have particular opportunities. We would be able to find resources that would give us the poets themselves, speaking aloud to us, reading their poems to us, and in some cases even directly answering our questions! It seemed a foregone conclusion to me that I would be making great use of multimedia in the classroom.

Video

Discussions of Black women’s invisibility have permeated the classroom all term long. I knew it would be powerful for all of my students, particularly my female students of color, not just to read but to see and hear Black women poets, so with this in mind, as I put the class together, I knew I wanted to emphasize the poets’ performance of their own poems. (An even more excellent idea, which I have not yet tried, is Howard Rambsy II’s idea about using the poets’ performances as primary texts! Thanks to fellow PALS blogger Shelli Homer for sharing Rambsy’s blog with me.). One thing poets take for granted (but that students may not always consider) is that the performance of our poems is important. Performance adds a layer of meaning to the poems printed on pages. Using video resources, then, is an obvious choice for a class on contemporary poets.

For example, as our class read Natasha Trethewey’s stunning poem “Miracle of the Black Leg,” from Thrall, we did not fully tap into the rage undergirding it until we watched this video of Trethewey reading the poem at Rutgers University:

After playing the videos, I would ask questions like, “What nuances did the poet bring out in the poem as she read it? What words did she emphasize? Where did she grow louder or softer, faster or slower? Where did you notice rhymes or changes in rhythm? What new things did you notice in the poem that you didn’t notice before? What surprised you about her reading of this poem?”

While most of what you will find online are videos of poets giving readings, you might also find, in some instances, poets who have created art videos of their poems. Claudia Rankine is the best example of this, since her “Situations” videos (collaborations with her husband, filmmaker John Lucas) are all available on her website. These are easy to find, but in my experience, students don’t go looking for them, so they are an excellent resource to bring into the class. Students who had imagined Claudia Rankine’s voice as loud (one student said, “I imagined her giving a spoken-word poetry delivery until we watched the video”) were surprised by her calm, even, and therefore exceptionally chilling delivery in the video for the poem “Stop-and-Frisk” from Citizen. (Go to “Situations” and choose #6 for the full video.)

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Poet Claudia Rankine

This video is one among many videos in which Rankine reads sections from Citizen and other works but does not appear in the video herself. The videos are, however, all intimately tied to the text of the poems. Watching these videos allowed us to go from a discussion of the poem’s text to a discussion of the many ways Citizen demands a discussion of how words and images interact.

I was able to find videos online of all of the poets on the syllabus giving readings, and I incorporated these videos into my daily lesson plans. Students were also responsible for leading discussions in pairs, and I was gratified to see that nearly all of them incorporated videos of the poets reading into their discussion-leading sessions.

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Poet t’ai freedom ford

Audio

Although students love having something to look at, don’t discount audio. There are some excellent poetry audio resources online. More and more poets are posting sound files of themselves reading poems on their websites. I’ll be playing some audio of t’ai freedom ford reading from her book how to get over in class this week, and since there’s no video, it will force the class to really focus on the words and the words only.

You might find other interesting audio online if you dig around. For example, when teaching Robin Coste Lewis’s Voyage of the Sable Venus, I found a 50-minute craft talk called “Boarding the Voyage.” In it, Lewis discusses her process in creating the long, experimental title poem.

I assigned this as homework one day, asking students to take notes as they listened and to come to class with a quotation from the craft talk they wanted to discuss, as well as the time at which the quotation occurred (so it would be easy for me to go to different spots in the lecture). They also had to tie the quotation from the craft talk to a part of the title poem. Students put the quotations and times on the board (there was definitely some overlap), we listened to the relevant portions, and then students would point us to portions in the poem they wanted to discuss.

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Poet Robin Coste Lewis

The transcript of this is not available online; audio is the only format available. This is a good thing, even though it means as an instructor I had to listen to the craft talk three times, stopping many times to take notes, to be able to teach it. While this was time-consuming, it was also powerful. Lewis’s lyrical reading style mesmerized us as a class, making her words that much more powerful. Also, because we had to take notes on the talk, we listened much more carefully than we would’ve otherwise—always a good skill to work on.

Keep on the lookout for audio in unexpected places, too. One of my students, a classical musician, had recently attended a concert by a capella group Roomful of Teeth, which features an adaptation of Rankine’s “Stop-and-Frisk.” (Scroll down to listen to “You Are Not the Guy.”) This student shared this recording with the class when she led discussion on Citizen. None of us were prepared for our reaction to the music (I won’t spoil it for you), and we had a great discussion about how setting a poem to music can radically affect our experience of a poem.

Skype

In teaching this course, I wanted the students to have as much interaction with the poets as possible, but my budget only allowed me to bring one poet to campus for a reading. This is what Skype is for. I scheduled a Skype session with poet Erica Dawson, whose book The Small Blades Hurt we read in class. I know Erica, so it was easy for me to set this up, but even if you don’t know any poets personally, you can still make this happen.

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Poet Erica Dawson

If you’re teaching contemporary poets, you can always reach out to the poet via social media or a contact form on their websites (most poets are reachable by one or another of these avenues) and ask them to Skype with your class. If you have a tiny budget for poetry readings, you could offer a small honorarium for this. I always pay the poets a little bit for their time, but if you don’t have the budget for that you could ask anyway and see what they say. (Especially if you know the poet, or know someone who knows the poet.) There are three keys to a successful Skype: either 1) ask poets you know; 2) ask a poet who is a friend of a friend (and get the friend to help you set this up); or 3) ask younger or less famous poets who would have more time than, say, Claudia Rankine or Natasha Trethewey, and who would really appreciate the publicity. If you teach in a department with creative writers, use them as a resource to help you find poets!

I found a good way to structure the Skype was to do a brief reading plus questions. I asked Erica to read a couple of poems (I gave her the choice of what she wanted to read, but then she chose to take student requests, so the class voted on two poems for her to read). I also asked students to choose, close read, annotate, and prepare a question for Erica about a particular poem from The Small Blades Hurt. (I had students turn these in to me to ensure they did them!) This made discussion quite lively. This advanced preparation is key for a Skype session, I think, as otherwise there might be a lot of long, painful silences—boring for the poet and not helpful to the class, either!

Twitter

Now, I’m not on Twitter (or actually any social media), but of course my students are. In one class discussion about a Patricia Smith poem from Blood Dazzler, the class could not decide who the speaker of the poem was. We debated for about twenty minutes. Then finally one student asked, “Can I get out my phone and see if she’s on Twitter? And then just tweet her the question if she is?” I thought, why not? To our surprise, Smith responded to the tweet a few days later, confirming one of the three possible speakers we had been debating. The class loved this informal interaction with a famous poet, and it was a nice moment (since their research papers will be due soon) for me to reiterate that when you’re working with living poets, you have to get creative with tracking down information.

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Poet Patricia Smith

. . . or a good old-fashioned poetry reading

The last type of multimedia I’m advocating may not seem like media at all . . . although it’s the oldest poetry medium around, that of an oral reading. It’s where poetry began! There’s no substitute for the electricity generated in the room when a poet steps up to the mic and begins reading her work. This obviously requires a lot of planning ahead (I booked Ashley Jones a year in advance), but if this is financially possible for your department to arrange, I would highly recommend it.

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Poet Ashley M. Jones

If you are a creative writer, you may run a reading series yourself, as I do on my campus, or you may at least have a hand in planning each year’s roster of readers. If so, reach out to your literature colleagues as you plan, letting them know what poets you are considering (and who knows, they also might have ideas about poets for you to consider), as they might be interested in teaching these poets in their own classes. (For example, a couple of years ago, I brought poet John Murillo to campus. I taught his book Up Jump the Boogie in my creative writing class, and my colleague taught his book in his literary analysis class.) This kind of overlap is great because it exposes more students to the work of contemporary poets, and it also ensures a good turnout for the reading!

If you are not involved in scheduling poetry readings on your campus, find out from the creative writers in your department if there is a budget for bringing poets to campus, and if so, see if they would like to collaborate. Perhaps they have their reading list set for who they’re bringing to campus next year—perhaps there’s a poet on their list who would be perfect for a class you’re teaching. Alternately, perhaps they would be open to hearing from you about which poet(s) you might like to bring to campus. See if there might be room for a visiting poet to visit your literature class. I brought Ashley Jones to campus to work with both my creative writing class and this literature class on Black women poets I have been discussing in this post. Both sets of students flipped out when Ashley Jones came to class—there’s no other way to put it.

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I have loved teaching this class, and I can tell that really seeing these poets has been meaningful to my students. You can of course use any or all of these approaches when teaching any contemporary poets—not just Black women poets. If you teach any of these poets or try any of these tricks, let me know how it goes!

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This blog post is written in loving memory of my friend, the amazing poet Monica Hand.

Teaching Hamilton: A Wrap Up

Over the past week PALS hosted a fantastic series of posts on teaching Hamilton in various classroom contexts. Laura Miller shared approaches to using Hamilton as a way to help students find entry into the 18th century as part of a project that incorporated the City Readers site from the New York Society Library. Sunny Stalter-Pace helped us consider ways to teach Hamilton within the context of contemporary American drama. Finally, Caitlin Kelly showcased what Hamilton and its draft iterations can teach students about the vibrant process of revision. We hope that these perspectives highlight ways of approaching Hamilton and serve as an inspiration to teachers looking to incorporate this dynamic and rich texts in the classroom. We are also hopeful that this week-long series of posts provides a way to continue an evolving discussion on teaching Hamilton.

When I first wrote about the musical Hamilton for PALS, I tried to capture the possible critical conversations about the musical that could be leveraged for the classroom. While I am unsure how much the original post still holds up, I can say that one of the attractive aspects of incorporating Hamilton in the classroom is its flexibility. The musical speaks to a variety of contemporary concerns about the United States, race, history, and many other topics. The posts featured this week show us that Hamilton has seemingly infinite applications for the classroom. The musical speaks to many issues (while also being silent on many others) and this multifaceted nature of the musical shows the versatility of incorporating it in the classroom. Such versatility benefits the classroom by providing a source of rich engagement for the students but presents drawbacks because not every single topic raised or ignored by the musical can be addressed during a few weeks of the semester.

In closing our week long feature on Hamilton, I hope I can be forgiven for speaking about teaching the musical in a personal way, specifically within the context of the precarious nature of the academic job market and the musical’s emphasis on the bootstrapping narrative of hard work. In preparing for the roundtable (and to once more teach the musical in the fall term), I began listening to the musical again. I had not listened to the music since the close of the fall semester. Revisiting the musical highlighted the ethos of hard work and bootstrapping. The musical’s emphasis on hard work isn’t something new; it has been pointed out often. I realized, as I listened to the musical with fresh ears, that pushing back against that hard work narrative is something that I did not consider in the context of my fall classroom experience.

I’ve struggled with writing this post because I find—in the context of academic labor— myself at odds with Hamilton and its emphasis on the ethic of working hard, perseverance, and rising above one’s station. I find it difficult to grapple with the ethic of working hard within the context of academia and the academic job market. I also know that I’m looking at the final year of limited-term position. This coming year is one last chance to work hard and make it through the academic job market. (Full disclosure: I’ve been applying for jobs in other fields and have had much more success with that than I did with the most recent job season, which seemed peppered with all Early American Lit jobs.) All of this personal background noise colors how I think about teaching the musical. The lack of success on the job market is familiar to many of us. Hamilton tell us that we can write (or work ourselves) out of our situation. The writing one’s way out sentiment resonates in academia. However, the old wisdom that one can write their way into a job isn’t the case anymore. Many of us know people with articles and books(!) that cannot find full time tenure-track jobs.

I’ve been grappling with all of these ideas for weeks. I’ve been struggling with them as I write and revise this post. Even with the uncertainty in this post, I do know that I want to make the point of the bootstrap narrative a central theme of my unit on Hamilton in the fall. This is partly because I’ll be teaching the musical in a class on the founders and the books that they read. Starting with the musical is a potent way to introduce students to the material for the semester, but it also can further send them down the road of romanticizing the founders.

In light of all of these thoughts, here is one thing I plan to do: be honest with students about my own situation. I think that’s one of the most important things that I can do. While the lives of students’ college professors might be mysterious, much of that mystery is largely built on popular culture. I think being honest with students helps. It does not mean to be an open book, and I recognize that for a variety of reasons it is not an approach for all of us. However, in those moments where we can be honest with students about our professional lives, I think we should.

I want to close this post by inviting our readers to read this week’s series on Hamilton. There is so much more that can be done with the musical. I hope that these posts serve as an inspiration for you and your classroom. We’d also love to hear your ideas about teaching Hamilton, too. Reach out to us on Twitter, leave a comment on our site, or send us an email.