reflection on Shange’s visit

I have listened to Ms. Shange speak twice and both times there has been this air around her. She truly has power.

I have been questioning the idea of humanity lately. It doesn’t seem to be possible in a world like the one we live in. Somehow in her work, I find there is meaning in the world. I think Shange has the superpower of healing or at least alleviating pain with her words.

The thing I take the most away with me is despite the sadness I felt when she could not imagine a blackness without oppression, I cannot recall Shange inviting sadness into the world with her words. I truly believe her presence challenges oppression. It’s a gift.

The poem that has stuck the most with me from Wild Beauty is
“A word is a miracle”

A word is a miracle
just letters that somehow wind up
clumsy fingers/ with meaning
my life was inarticulate
no one knew what I meant
I cd capture no beauty or wistful memory
a word on a blank page, though
that is triumphant
infinite illusion/ hard core fact
of this messy world where
whole cities are poisoned and my universe
is an error a word
beckoning jihadis/ blessing lepers
urging revolutions, a smile.
a miracle of sound
to be cherished

Millions of species are going extinct and the human race might become one of them. I think what makes me sad is the idea of Shange’s legacy that she writes of wanting in the prologue of “Wild Beauty” not lasting. Poetry is one thing that separates us from every other species. At least poetry as we know it. The world and Shange’s legacy is in very clumsy fingers.