Born [Again] at 40

 

I began my first life by being birthed from a womb / weighted with wounds /which some say may cause me to forget to remember reminders of my most memorable self…

 

And so begins the first poem that I would timidly recite at a poetry slam. But, “Born Again” was not the first poem that I would nervously recite in public. Before I became a member of Philly’s first female spoken word ensemble, In the Company of Poets, Pat McLean and I were strangers sitting on opposite sides of a classroom in Temple University’s Anderson Hall listening intently to the presentation of Dr. Regina Jennings, our “New Black Voices” poetry instructor. I recall that Pat and I met on a wintery February evening, after work. The weather was likely less than 32 degrees, and possibly the forecast was eighty percent chance of snow. It was the spring semester of PASCEP (Pan African Studies Community Education Program). Dr. Jennings, a former Black Panther, had been a student of Dr. Sonia Sanchez. Her first instruction before we played “dead poet” was: Leave your ego at the door! My interpretation: take neither loss or gain to heart—don’t brag but don’t beat yourself up, either. Besides, she had given us the tools, the language of literary criticism, in order to be both knowledgeable and supportive in commenting on the poems of our classmates. When it was my turn to be dead poet, my classmates, for the most part, were kind, effusive about what they liked about my poem entitled, New Black Voices—Or The Rap on Ebonics. Dr. Jennings, though, questioned my use of Chinese philosopher, Confucius. “Surely you can find the name of an African or Black philosopher,” she said. “After all, this workshop is called New Black Voices, and not only do you use that in the title of your poem, you reference Black vernacular speech. You can do better.” I remember that Pat’s poem got great reviews. I also recall that she offered very astute critique of all of our poems, and that she exuded a confidence that was grounded in a willingness to share of herself and what she knew about writing Black. What Pat and I did not know was that Dr. Jennings had submitted all of our poems to a competition hosted by the late Dr. F.E. DeLancey—The Sonia Sanchez/Audre Lorde Poetry Writing Contest. A phone call from Dr. DeLancy announced that Pat won first place, and I won second. At the Fall semester event held at Drexel University, Dr. Sonia Sanchez listened as we read our poems—my first public reading—and then presented our first and second place certificates. To Sister Debra—Keep writing! Love, Sonia Sanchez.

 

 

The year was 1997—I was forty. …And now, I am on my thirteenth life / I am blessed to be born again.