
This Black History Month Special features 22nd Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith, writer and poet Saeed Jones, and music from singer-songwriter Meklit.
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Luke Burbank
Hey there. Welcome to Livewire. I'm Luke Burbank. We are celebrating Black History Month this week with some of the most talented authors and artists out there working today. First up, Pulitzer Prize winning poet Tracy K. Smith. We'll talk about her new memoir, To Free the A Plea for the American Soul. In it, she looks to uncover black strength and continuance and community by looking back at her own family's history. And she does this really amazing thing in the book where she uses photographs and stories of her father growing up in Sunflower, Alabama, to figure out where we go next as a country. Then we're going to talk to writer and poet Saeed Jones about his book Alive at the End of the World. And then we're going to hear some music from McLeet. We have an amazing episode of Livewire, which I'll get started right after this.
Lacy Healy
Hi, it's Lacy Healy. When members of Congress and even the Vice president are sworn into office, they say an oath to protect the country from all enemies, foreign and domestic. But what does a domestic enemy look like?
Luke Burbank
January 6th, it was coming from the top.
Tracy K. Smith
Some of them are bad people, but most of them are just normal people.
Lacy Healy
As if we weren't all stressed out enough, this season on Things that Go Boom, we're turning our eyes on the US how violence starts, how it stops, and how we stop it before it starts. A new season of Things that Go Boom is available now. Wherever you get your podcasts.
Luke Burbank
Livewire is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. Do you ever think about switching insurance companies to see if you could save some cash? Progressive makes it easy to see if you could save when you bundle your home and auto policies. Try it@progressive.com Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and affiliates. Potential savings will vary. Not available in all states. Hey there, Alaina.
Elena Passarello
Hey, Luke. How's it going?
Luke Burbank
It's going great. Are you ready for a little station location identification examination?
Elena Passarello
Yes, siree.
Luke Burbank
All right. This is the part of the show where I quiz Elena on somewhere in the country. We're on the radio. She gotta figure out where I am talking about. This city was the setting for two significant events in the civil rights movement. This is our Black History Month special. This week in February 1961, nine black men staged a sit in at the segregated McCrory's Five and Dime lunch counter. And then later in 1961, this city was the first stop for a group of 13 Freedom Riders who boarded buses in D.C. and headed south to test the Supreme Court ruling outlawing racial segregation on all interstate public facilities.
Elena Passarello
Yes.
Luke Burbank
And I'll give you a hint. It's a state that I think you know, dear, and well.
Elena Passarello
Yes, right off of Highway 77, I believe. Rock Hill, South Carolina.
Luke Burbank
Yes, exactly. Rock Hill, South Carolina, which is on the other side of the state line, but not super far, I'm told, from Charlotte, North Carolina, where we're on WNSC fm. So nice poll, Elena. All right. You ready to get to the show?
Elena Passarello
Let's do it.
Luke Burbank
All right.
Elena Passarello
Take it away from prx. It's livewire. This week, author Tracy K. Smith.
Tracy K. Smith
In the American imagination, there's a group of people who will always be free. And for the rest of us, people who descend from histories of violence or colonization or other forms of oppression, we are freed.
Elena Passarello
And writer and poet Saeed Jones in the green room.
Saeed Jones
This is what Maya Angelou said Billie Holiday told her, you're going to be famous, but it won't be for singing.
Elena Passarello
With music from McLeet. I'm your announcer, Elena Passarello. And now the host of livewire, Luke Burbank.
Luke Burbank
Thank you very much, Elena. Thanks to everyone. Tuning in this week from all over the country, we have a special edition of the show. We are celebrating Black History Month on this episode. So we are going to sort of break format a little bit because we have some amazing guests and we don't want to dilly dally. We want to get right to them. So let's talk about our first guest. She's a librettist, translator and the author of five acclaimed poetry collections, including the Pulitzer Prize winning Life on Mars. Her memoir, ordinary Light, was a finalist for the National Book Award. And she was also, side note, the 22nd Poet Laureate of the United States. No big deal. Her latest book is To Free the A Plea for the American Soul. This is a conversation with Tracy K. Smith, who joined us on stage at the Alberta Rose Theater in Portland, Oregon. Tracy, welcome to the show.
Tracy K. Smith
Thank you.
Luke Burbank
Thank you so much for being here. Been a huge fan of yours for a long time. And one of the things that jumped out at me about this new book is kind of one of the central ideas, I think, which is the difference between being a person being free, a person being freed. Can you kind of explain that?
Tracy K. Smith
I felt really shocked when this dawned on me as I was thinking about history, thinking about the archive. And I realized that in the American imagination, there's a group of people who we imagine have always been and will always be free. And it's attached to whiteness in many ways. And for the rest of us, people who descend from histories of violence or colonization or other forms of oppression. We are freedom. And what I realize that means is there's kind of a border, the point past which we can't really expect certain possibilities, opportunities, or even forms of regard. It's frightening, but I think it's something that maybe we should start talking about.
Luke Burbank
In the book, you say that you get a warm rush of feeling in your chest when you think of Sunflower, Alabama. What does Sunflower, Alabama mean to you?
Tracy K. Smith
Well, first of all, it's such a beautiful name.
Luke Burbank
I know I'd never heard of it before the book. And now I get a warm rush. Thank you. What a great town.
Tracy K. Smith
That's the small town outside of Mobile where my father grew up. And it was a place where generations of his family had made their home and a rural community. My father's people were farmers, and I visited Sunflower just once or twice growing up. And what I always remembered, although the generations of his family were gone. The little one room post office I think it is. You can look it up on the Internet. I don't know if it's actually still there, but just like this little white clapboard building with Sunflower and the zip code. But it just reminds me of the black love and care and creativity with which his family and he found ways to thrive in a world, in a state, in a system of segregation that was really designed to impede that for black people.
Luke Burbank
Yeah. The photographs in this book are just so incredible throughout, but particularly the ones of your. I think it would be your grandfather and your great uncles, like, fighting in World War I. And these men are so kind of put together and so patriotic in what they're doing and are going to come back to a country when they come back from Europe that is going to treat them as second class people. Did you have these photographs in your family? Were they kicking around like, where'd you get them? They're a big part of the book to me.
Tracy K. Smith
It was helpful for me to look at images of soldiers from my grandfather's time. And it wasn't until the book was really finished that a cousin of mine shared this photograph of my grandfather from World War I. It's very worn, but it was wonderful to be able to actually place him in their midst. But originally I just really wanted to get a sense of the texture of history and maybe read the feelings, the expressions, the body language of these young men who some volunteered, some were drafted to defend freedom and democracy abroad. And many of them did so believing that they might also chip away at the second class citizenship that characterized their lives here. And I think the crushing reality was that was not the case.
Luke Burbank
You say that these are men who almost couldn't be contained by a photograph. What do you mean by that?
Tracy K. Smith
I think that's true of all of us. But, you know, looking at. For me, sometimes I forget that the historical archive is full of stories of people whose lives were robust and vivid, and that life force is still present. Sometimes it's in their voices, in letters, and sometimes it's just in the sense of feeling and, I don't know, like possibility that you can read in those still images. And it was really helpful to remind myself and maybe also encourage the readers to say, no life can be contained in a photograph. Every life will spill beyond the borders. But it can give us a glimmer of the much that is there.
Luke Burbank
Yeah. You tell a story about your parents on their honeymoon, and they've gone to great lengths to make sure that they could find a hotel that would allow them to stay there as black Americans. And even though they'd done all their due diligence, they're still turned away. And you write a line, the punch always lands. Can you kind of describe that?
Tracy K. Smith
I don't think there were people for whom the blow of that sense of discrimination disappeared. You know, the feeling that even though you expect it, it still hurts, it still perhaps surprises you a little bit, and it still makes its point. And I realized that's a big part of the intention of Jim Crow and segregation. And I guess there are other forms of that that we still live with. But part of the insidious nature of segregation is. Is that it's something you don't get used to. It's something that can take the wind out of you each time. And I also believe another feature of that is that it's labor and effort, even for the people who believe themselves to be free or at the top of the racial hierarchy. They're exerting a tremendous effort to try and reinforce and defend what they believe is rightfully theirs. And it's such an awful waste of spirit and energy. And we see forms of that still.
Luke Burbank
Yeah, sure. Isn't it weird to think about your parents when they were younger than you are now? I feel like this book is a real journey for you of thinking about your parents at a time when they were kids, basically. What was that like for you to just kind of, like, think about their lives? Not as my parents or my dad who's, you know, was in the Air Force and was making you like, you know, clean your floor with a toothbrush and stuff. But like he was a 20 something year old guy, you know, living his life.
Tracy K. Smith
It's just my heart, like ached. I tell a story about my dad after he graduated from high school and he, you know, decided he was going to go to Detroit and try and get a job maybe in the auto industry. And he was 18 and he got up there and many doors were closing, the opportunities didn't arrive. And I just think, think about this young, this child really trying to figure out who he is allowed to become and also thinking about the sense of duty or obligation that might have capped some of the other wishes or expectations. My mother was in college at the same time, but I think my father and some of the circumstances in his family felt bound to start earning a living and maybe contributing. I work with students who are his age and older and I don't know, it broke my heart to think that I couldn't be there and say, you can do whatever you put your mind to. Which is what my father and mother always said to me when I was growing up.
Luke Burbank
Well, that seems to be something else that's revealed in the book is maybe a newfound awareness for you as a daughter of what your dad and mom were going through. I mean, you find these letters that your dad had written to the Air Force when there was some issue over he moved too much furniture, too heavy, base to base. And I mean, your father was obviously tremendously smart. He worked on the Hubble telescope, but then was told he was not going to have his contract renewed or was not going to get more government work because he didn't have a quote unquote, high enough level of education. Meanwhile, your brother's in medical school at this point and you're about to go to Harvard. And so your dad is living that version of his life to make your life possible. Right. Was that something you were fully aware of before you started on this book?
Tracy K. Smith
Absolutely not. When my siblings and I sold the house that we grew up in, I was the one who inherited all these boxes of papers and records and some military medals and things. And I moved to Boston a couple of years ago and that was the first time that I opened up those boxes and went through all of the documents. And I kind of felt like my father was guiding me from envelope to envelope, telling me this true story, which was he had a big family and he was working in one of the most hierarchical institutions in America and was constrained. And there was this moment, like you said, where he got this bill from the federal government saying, you owe us $1,030 for overshipment of household goods. And I just spent when I read that, I knew that he felt accused of stealing or lying. And I also knew that he was an honest man and we were a big family. And so I found these sheets where he was adding up income and expenses, trying to figure out could he afford to pay this off. And then drafts of the letter that he wrote to the government saying, I'm a career airman and just making this case.
Luke Burbank
Yeah. This is LIVEWIRE from prx. We are celebrating Black History Month this week on the show and listening to a conversation with Tracy K. Smith, the author and former poet laureate of the U.S. we have to take a quick break, but when we come back, Tracy will be reading from her new book, To Free the A Plea for the American Soul. And you don't want to miss it, so stay with us here on livewire. Special thanks to our sponsor, Up Up Books, a Portland bookshop specializing in diverse authors, local writers and independent presses. They're located across from Revolution hall in the Buckman neighborhood, and they offer a space for book clubs, workshops and events. Check out their website and grab a book@upupbooks.com welcome back to Livewire from PRX. I'm your host, Luke Burbank, here with Elena Passarello. We are celebrating Black History Month this week on the show and we're talking to Tracy K. Smith, the Pulitzer Prize winning poet and former poet laureate of the United States. Tracy joined us on stage at the Alberta Rose Theater in Portland, Oregon, to talk about her latest book, to Free the A Plea for the American Soul, which is sort of a personal manifesto which also weaves in her own family history with broader themes of black strength and community. We're going to pick that conversation up now. This is Tracy K. Smith here on livewire. Could you read a little bit from the book?
Tracy K. Smith
Actually, in 1987, after my father is denied U.S. department of Defense employment due to his lack of education, just as he begins to slump under the fear that he's exhausted all options, he accepts a job with American Airlines as an aircraft technician in the last chapter of his career. At age 52, with a son in medical school and a daughter dreaming of college, my father returns to square one. He becomes an airman again. If there is a part of him that is anything other than relieved, if this job is in any way a blow to his pride, I feel like the spoiled child I must always have been even to wonder such a thing. It is my Mother who consoles him. She teaches him to see himself correctly. He is brilliant, hardworking and wise. He's provided diligently, lovingly, for five children, and look what all they've done. She's proud of him. She feels lucky. She reminds him of something from their early life together. How they saved their honeymoon from the clerk at that Jim Crow hotel. How she'd do it all over again from that day forward, from earlier still, when she says this, the souls of everyone they love are suddenly there in the room with them. I believe there's something else we summon in our coming together, a source of succor and presence that further attests to what waits in soon. I hear it in between the words of old gospel hymns like we'll understand it better by and by. I hear it in the places where time's shifting. Nature, bolstered and deepened by grief, peeks through. We are more than we are many. We minister forward and back to ourselves across an inexplicable divide. It is evidence of some unnamed law, a clause we have not been taught, but which nevertheless, on occasion, can be seen to apply. By and by, when the morning comes when the saints of God are gathered home we'll tell the story how we've overcome for we'll understand it better by and by we abide in an ever unfolding soon we are not overcome we shall overcome we will understand it better by and by.
Luke Burbank
That's Tracy K. Smith reading from her new book, To Free the Captives. Sadly, both of your parents have passed. But you write in the book that when you want to talk to your mom, you have to go through God. But when you want to talk to your dad, you can just kind of talk to him or see him somewhere. What's that about?
Tracy K. Smith
What's that about? Well, you know, I grew up in a religious family, and I think my mother had a very clear sense that it was God that we were talking to and it was heaven to which we would return after death. And we were forbidden from, like, messing around with Ouija boards or playing, you know, with ghosts, because she felt those things were real and they could lead us astray. And so when she died, I felt obedient. I was like, I miss her, but I'm just gonna direct my thoughts toward where she told me she would be. But then after my dad died, he just seemed to be so sociable. I would see. I felt like he was there tapping my shoulder.
Saeed Jones
Look.
Tracy K. Smith
Look at that bird. Or isn't this interesting? Or even. Actually, I was working on my book, Life on Mars, which is an elegy for him in many ways. And I was writing all these poems about the future and about space and even thinking about some of the images from the Hubble telescope. But I had forgotten that for about six years during my childhood, he worked on that project. And there was a moment where I feel like he kind of woke me up. He was like, come on. Remember those company picnics that we went to? And suddenly I was like, oh, right, Here he is yet again. And I love that. I feel the connection that spans this side of the mortal divide. And that one is something that allows for, I don't know, communication, certainly love, but also, I think, guidance. And in a lot of ways, I feel like this book was about trying to open that dialogue up even further with my dad and even with some of his family members who died before I was born. I believe they are still engaged in the ongoing project of liberation, and I think they're here to help us complete this work.
Luke Burbank
Wow. Yeah. Also, I noticed that you capitalized the word God in the book. Was that an intentional choice?
Tracy K. Smith
Well, it wasn't an accident. I mean, it's part of that reverence, I think, that I grew up with. And also, as a kid, I used to. I liked reading the King James Bible. I think a lot of writers love the cadence of that text. And so I liked the formality of those capital letters to signify, you know, grandeur, mystery. I think it's really related in some ways to the irregularities of grammar or even capitalization that live in poetry or that can live in poetry. So I do that. I think, okay, there's this big figure, a source. And I like to imagine that maybe if I use that capital letter, it will come. It'll consent to come a little bit nearer and nudge me from time to time.
Luke Burbank
This book kind of feels like it's kind of got three parts to it. You know, there's this history of your family, there's the memoir aspect of your life, and then there's a kind of a conversation around, like, blackness in America. And one thing I didn't realize was going to be in there is you talking about your sobriety. And you had a line in there that just knocked me over. And I think it was something to the effect of we. We think that we're only going to feel joy through pleasure. And that getting past that idea for you was part of understanding how to be a sober person.
Tracy K. Smith
Yeah, I. After I had three young kids, I went through a period of intense grief for the young person. That I remembered being. And the freedom.
Luke Burbank
I think that that's a knowing titter from the audience, people with children.
Tracy K. Smith
And I found that I was drinking more and more doggedly when that feeling was upon me. And it was upon me more and more. And I wish that I can say I made the decision to stop drinking at a certain point when I realized what was happening. But I remember for a long time saying, one day maybe I'll be one of those people. But there came a moment when I feel like there was like a divine intervention where I said, I really want. I want an old Fashioned. And I made one. And I took a sip and it just tasted awful. I did it again. The same thing happened. I poured a glass of wine. And it just dawned on me that this was never going to feel right. It was never going to do what I wanted it to do because that wasn't perhaps what I needed to be doing.
Luke Burbank
You know who that was? Capital G. God. Capital G. Yeah, My family would say. I also grew up with the church. Do you feel hopeful that we can arrive at a place where the freed are actually free? And what do you think needs to happen?
Tracy K. Smith
Well, I have kids, and so I really need to be hopeful. Part of sobriety for me is realizing that it's not a burden to accept accountability. It's actually, you know, it could be this wonderful form of, I don't know, liberation to say what I have, meager as it may be, will grow larger if I can commit to it and even share it, pass it on to others. And I feel like the dilemma that we're in the midst of now, that has to do with the ways we do or don't consent to regard one another. I think it's something that we can become large enough to confront or to admit that we're accountable within. I think a big part of that has to do with those who might believe themselves to be the first, freest, the most powerful, those at the top of all the many hierarchies that we invest in in our culture for them to realize they're equally bound in a system that makes them smaller than they could be. And I want to be helpful to that project.
Luke Burbank
Yeah. Well, this book is really incredible. Tracy K. Smith. It's to free the captives here on Livewire. Thank you so much. That was Tracy K. Smith right here on Livewire. Her latest book, To Free the A Plea for the American Soul, is out right now. Special thanks this episode to Aliyah Keating of Sandy, Oregon, and Michelle Rosenthal of Seattle, Washington. Aaliyah and Michelle are part of the Livewire member community and are generously supporting our show with a donation each month, which is something we are very thankful for because it is genuinely what allows us to keep the program going. So a big thanks to Michelle and Alia for keeping Livewire in business.
Saeed Jones
Foreign.
Luke Burbank
Welcome back to LIVEWIRE from prx. I'm Luke Burbank here with Elena Passarello. Our next guest's work has appeared in the New York Times, the New Yorker, and GQ magazine, among many other places. His really incredible memoir, how We Fight for Our Lives, was the recipient of the 2019 Kirkus Prize for nonfiction. And the US poet laureate Ada Limone has called his latest collection, Alive at the End of the World, a serious argument for community and the rebellion of joy. This is our conversation with Saeed Jones, recorded in 2022. Saeed, welcome back to the show.
Saeed Jones
Hi, honey. How are you?
Luke Burbank
So good to see you. The last time we talked, you were at your home in Columbus and you had just gotten a dog named Caesar. Yes. And it was during the pandemic, and we were literally looking for anyone we could talk to. And we saw on, like, I don't know, the Internet that you had gotten a dog. And we said, that sounds like 20 minutes of radio. Yeah.
Saeed Jones
Month one, month one of lockdown. You're like, do you have time? I was like, yes, I have time. Are you kidding me? When do you need me? What do we want to talk? We talk about anything. Sure. Dog. Okay, I'll bring the dog. Yeah.
Luke Burbank
Yes.
Saeed Jones
It was great.
Luke Burbank
Thank you for being generous with your time. Now, your new book, Alive at the End of the World, you have a line in it where you say, did I just trick myself into writing another memoir? Right. We had you on for How We Fight for Our Lives. Your memoir about your life and your mother and everything. Is this book of poetry, something where you also accidentally wrote another memoir?
Saeed Jones
I think I did trick myself. Yeah. I think so. I mean, I write poetry collections one poem at a time. And so I'm just kind of focused on these very, to me, minor kind of moments of deep humanity. But, yeah, when you begin to step back and you're like 20 poems, 30 poems and everything, it is a bit surprising. And I think I had a lot more clearly to unpack.
Luke Burbank
Sure. Yeah. I mean, in reading this book, it really struck me as a person who was working through a lot of pain. Including the section where you're annoyed at an audience member who asks you basically the question I just asked you.
Saeed Jones
I like to get right to it, you know, the secret is make straight white men nervous from the jump. Yeah, just nip it at the bud, honey. Getting stressed, Fix your posture. I can't even remember what we were talking about. I was just so excited to get to. I mean, where's this book? I saw an opening.
Luke Burbank
I guess my real question is, was it cathartic for you to write about these things in the book or was it re. Traumatizing?
Saeed Jones
It was not re. Traumatizing. I don't find writing. I don't know. I mean, I've never found it to be traumatized. I don't know. I mean, it's too hard. It's too much of a craft, too much joy. It's our engine. So how could that hurt me is kind of how I feel. I think it was cathartic, though, in the sense that, well, one, you know, I don't know if you know, but the world is ending.
Luke Burbank
Yeah.
Saeed Jones
So I felt, thinking about dystopia and the apocalypse, I mean, there's an entire genre of not just literature, of, like, culture in every form about the dystopia and what happens, but who's entrusted to be the hero or the historian in those stories? It's a pretty narrow aperture. And I was like, well, why not? Why can't that person that we entrust the history and the perspective of, like, here's what's going down, here's what we need to pack up and carry, and here's what we need to leave to poison. Why can't that person be a black queer person who's grieving? Why not?
Luke Burbank
Yeah. We're talking to Saeed Jones about his latest collection of poetry. It's called Alive at the End of the World. Can we hear a poem from the book?
Saeed Jones
Sure, sure. Yeah. So I guess for a little. In addition to. Yeah, you're right. Tricking myself into writing another memoir. My mother, Carol Sweet Jones, died of heart disease just over a decade ago. And so it was like right in the middle of. Well, last year was the 10 year anniversary of her passing. Right. So in the depths of this pandemic and, you know, all the detail, y'all were there. We are there. Right. I was thinking about that. Because of course, when you're grieving, I mean, it is an ongoing relationship. It's not the end. It's the beginning of a new phase in your relationship with who you miss. Right. And, you know, you often think, like, I wish they were here. God, I wish I could tell them, like, how much fun I had or whatever. But the Thing is, in the middle of the pandemic, I was like, okay, well, your mother died of heart disease, which disproportionately kills black women in this country. It's like, if it's not like giving birth in this country, it's heart disease for black women. Statistically, it's horrifying. And she worked in an airport in Atlanta in the state of Georgia. So I was like, you sure you want to bring her back for this? You know, like. So I think with this book, I was thinking so much about the afterlife of grief. That's what I've come to call it. And this poem's about that afterlife vibe. A stranger. I wonder if my dead mother still thinks of me. I know I don't know her new name. I don't know her. Not now. I don't know if her is the word burning in a stranger's mind when he sees my dead mother walking down the street in her bright black dress. I wonder if he inhales the cigarette smoke that will eventually kill him and thinks, I wish I knew a woman who was both the light and every shadow the light pierces. I wonder if a passing glance at my dead mother is enough to make a poet out of anyone. I wonder if I'm the song she hums as she waits for the light to change. Thank you. Thank you.
Luke Burbank
Saeed Jones, reading from Alive at the End of the World. You have a line. It's actually kind of in the sort of afternotes of this book that just absolutely floored me. You wrote you don't get to decide when an experience is done with you. It's true. That's intense.
Saeed Jones
Learn it now. I also heard a lot of nods of. But it's true, right? I mean, I think my theory is it has something to do with capitalism. Honestly, the ethos of American capitalism is that, move on, get up, because you got to get back to work.
Elena Passarello
Right?
Saeed Jones
Grief, depression, gender journeys, you know, all of these, you know, candor, intelligence, you know, is deeply inconvenient for capitalism, Right? You know, so we really have this ethos, right, built into us. Like, move on, pick it up. And so I think that, yeah, it's like, you know, you feel the pressure. No one has to say it to you, right? I think America is really good at, like, teaching us how to bully ourselves, you know? But, no, it's not up to you. You know, when you get to stop crying and then that manifests in the poem, it's like, it's not up to me. When I get to stop Crying, right? Like, yeah, And I think that's true. I mean, you. All kinds of relationships, breakups, even jobs, you know, I've had an experience where I had a job and I left, and years later, I was, like, still mad at a boss I hadn't spoken to in you. You know what I mean? And so I wanted to. I think grief, like, queerness, has opened me up to understanding so much of queer, so many aspects of humanity. It's the most. You know, grieving and being queer, I think, are two of the most humanizing experiences of my life. And so, yeah, I found power in acknowledging that perhaps I'm still enthralled to a dynamic that I would very much like to move on from or claim a sense of power in relation to. But, like, maybe. Maybe I'm less in control than I thought, which is like, did I just trick myself? Yeah.
Luke Burbank
There is a poem in this book with the title, performing as Ms. Calypso, Maya Angelou dances whenever she forgets the lyrics, which Billie Holiday, seated in the audience, finds annoying. Is any part of that a real thing that happens?
Saeed Jones
Yes, yes. Maya Angelou. Dr. Maya Angelou wrote it. I can't remember the title, but it's in one of her memoirs. One of her memoirs. She wrote about it several decades later. But, yeah, early in. Maya Angelou is just like a fascinating figure. And I tell people, I think I appear in the book a lot of ghosts and then also a lot of black kind of cultural icons. Little Richard, Diane Carroll, Toni Morrison, Paul Mooney. Love the Paul Mooney. But Maya, I tell people, is, I think, arguably the happiest person in the poem because she's just like, we'll do it. At that point in her life, she was performing under the stage name Miss Calypso in the Bay Area. Not a very good singer, but a great dancer. She was always an incredible dancer. And so literally, when she would forget the lyrics, she. And I mean, she was. I mean, look at pictures from Maya. I mean, I think Maya was beautiful her whole life, but. Whoa, whoa. And at this point in her life, like, she'd be performing, forget the lyrics. And she would just go, I appear to have forgotten the lyrics. And then, like, she would then do a dance kind of till she got back to, you know, it's obvious. Obviously, the men in laws were like, you forget the lyrics all you want. And then, so then, you know, decades later, and, you know. Cause she may. Angela wrote like, a series of memoirs. You know, she lives so many lives, which is another interesting parallel with the book Billie Holiday turns out to be in the audience and comes to talk to her in the green room. And I think they saw each other, like, she visited at her home later and did not get along. They did not like each other. Maya Angelou is really homophobic because of rumors about Billie Holiday's bisexuality. And she says, I mean, very transparent in her own writing. I was like, I just didn't think very highly of her. I think there's a direct line from Billie Holiday to, like, maybe the caliber of Whitney Houston. So imagine you're on stage just getting along, being your little, you know, you think it's cute, and you look out, and then there's like, there is the artist of the form that you are on stage making a joke of in front of her. And so in the green room, this is what Maya Angelou sits. Billie Holiday told her, you're going to be famous, but it won't be for singing.
Luke Burbank
Wow.
Saeed Jones
That was the end. There's one album, one music album in all of Maya Angelou's life. She recorded was Ms. Calypso, that was it a rap. So I'm like, I guess Billie Holiday was right. And then Billie Holiday died a few years later. It's incredible. What are the odds?
Luke Burbank
Well, you mentioned Whitney Houston, and you have a poem about Diane Carroll in a Beverly Hills hotel and a bath, taking a bath, which to me very much seemed like. It's also a poem about Whitney Houston.
Saeed Jones
Yes. Oh, yeah, yeah. That's a parallel.
Luke Burbank
Because of the circumstances around her passing and also her life. I mean, are you seeing a connection between all of the women that you're writing about in this book, including your mother?
Saeed Jones
Yeah. I mean, you know, I think you see me on the page examine and perform my distress, my peril, like, my sense of, like, oh, what's going on? And everything like that. And I think it's always important, you know, I mean, I think a great deal about intersectionality and everything like that and what's going on in our country. But as much as I'm freaked out, it's like, you know who it's really hard for in this country? It's like, black women, Black trans women, you know, So I think it's important, you know, even as I'm, like, owning, y'all are freaking me out, you know, you're stressing out. Saeed. I also think it's important for me to think, like, well, what else? Like, who else is, you know, going through this? And in thinking about my mom's experiences and certainly the women who appear in the book, I'm like, yeah. It's like, yeah. Saeed, you have a certain privilege to speak out about your age, your rage and your distress. It's very dangerous for black women to be as vocal. You know, I mean, black woman says, the sky is blue, and you see the pushback, you see the disrespect.
Luke Burbank
You note at the end of the book, certain poems being nonfiction.
Saeed Jones
Yeah.
Luke Burbank
Which presumes the existence of fictional poems. And I'm trying to understand the difference, because aren't all poems nonfiction on some level? Because it's an experience. It's a feeling. Like, what's the difference between a nonfiction poem and a fiction poem for you?
Saeed Jones
I've written poems and certainly read poems to other people that could be a short story, you know, in a different, I mean, Persona. You know? You know, Billie Holiday, Maya Angelou. I mean, that's not. I mean, it's based on something in truth. But I'm taking on Maya Angelou as a character. You know, the dynamic, the capital T. Truth may be present, but is it accurate, factual? No. So I liked trying to identify for the reader these specific moments. Like, this is a nonfiction poem where essentially, like, looking at poetry's potential to kind of function as a personal essay is the.
Luke Burbank
Would you consider the Luther Vandross poem nonfiction or fiction?
Saeed Jones
Ooh, that's a good. I mean, it's definitely closer to nonfiction. I mean, it's. Yeah, I think it is nonfiction in that I tried to. Every detail in the poem is. Yeah. Something he went through in his life. Pretty specific. Like, he would. Like in. If you read an excellent biography of his by Craig Seymour. And they were pretty close. And what. Like, Luther never used pronouns when talking about his relation. Like, he was so closeted. He was. He was. He was very strategic. So he. He wouldn't say. He would just say, I'm in love. I'm in love. And it's so great. He wouldn't. He was very careful, you know?
Luke Burbank
Well, you write that. This poem that is about Luther Vandross is. You made it intentionally difficult to read aloud.
Saeed Jones
Yes.
Luke Burbank
As a reference to how Luther Vandross would, like, collaborate.
Saeed Jones
Yeah. Luther was a bitch. It was great. You know, I get it. I mean, who wouldn't be, you know, under those. You know, the class is a very stressful place to be. Turns out it makes you not so nice. But, yeah, he was also, you know, genius. Rigorous. You know, the Wiz. You know the Wiz.
Lacy Healy
Yeah.
Saeed Jones
We have the. Okay. Thank you. All right.
Luke Burbank
It was. It was on National Television.
Saeed Jones
Portland black people know the Wiz. Okay.
Luke Burbank
It was on national television. There was like three channels.
Saeed Jones
You got it. Luther Vandross wrote two songs for it when he was a teenager.
Tracy K. Smith
What?
Saeed Jones
That was the. The range of his talent. I think, honestly, just weight and sexuality would have totally changed the dynamics of his career anyway. So he was really rigorous in the studio and he gets to the point at his peak, he's consistently collaborating with people like Aretha Franklin. And if even Aretha, while singing, recording, would mispronounce a L, he would stop.
Luke Burbank
I assumed you were referencing like a whole argument. I thought you just meant like a random others. I didn't realize that.
Saeed Jones
Franklin. Yeah, yeah, the quote is. I mean, he. Because it happens. And they were. I mean, they. They would fuss and break up and they were very much like frenemies. It was really interesting. They made up towards the end of his life, which I think was good. What did he say? He interrupted her and she said, who has the most number one albums? Luther. And he said, how long has it been since your last one? When I tell you, like, studying history and going into this to like keep. I was like, woo. I'm a lot a reason to live for another day. Oh my gosh.
Luke Burbank
Well, we are very glad to have you here with us and glad to have this piece of work. It's Alive at the End of the World by Saeed Jones. Saeed, thank you so much. That was Saeed Jones right here on Livewire this week. We were talking about his latest book, of course. Elena, you are also a big podcast fan of Saeed's show.
Elena Passarello
Oh, yeah. I don't miss an episode of Vibe Check, which stars said Zach Stafford and other friend of Livewire, Sam Sanders. It is such a great podcast and I cannot. I cannot miss a single episode.
Luke Burbank
It feels to me, I listen to that show too. Like the perfect kind of like update on what's happening out in the culture, but then also like a serious, meaningful conversation about. About what's happening, but not in a way that feels like you're just kind of, you know, in class or something. Like it's just kind of the right exact. Well, it's called Vibe Check. It's like the right exact vibe of everything.
Elena Passarello
It's like nuanced and ch. Challenging and kind.
Luke Burbank
Like all three things at once and probably a template for what we should try to do more of on this show. Saeed's latest book, Alive at the End of the World, is out right now and you should go grab it. This is Livewire from prx. I'm Luke Burbank here with Elena Passarello. We have to take a very quick break, but don't go anywhere. We are celebrating Black History Month this week on the show. And we, we come back, we are going to hear some of the really innovative musical stylings of McLeat. So don't go anywhere. Welcome back to Livewire from PRX. I'm Luke Burbank here with Elena Passarello. We are celebrating Black History Month this week on the show. And our musical guest is a master mixologist. And not the kind that will make you a, you know, like, weird martini with, you know, cottage cheese in it or something. All due respects to master mixologist.
Elena Passarello
A protein martini.
Luke Burbank
Yeah. Right. Very big. Very big. Right now, what she does is blend the sounds of East Africa with the Bay Area to create her. Her own kind of unique style of Ethio jazz. Her most recent album is when the People Move, the Music Moves too. She's also the host of Movement, where she tells stories of global migration through music. Oh, and also her TED Talk, which she has. The unexpected beauty of everyday sounds has been viewed over a million times at this point. Take a listen to this. It's McLeet here on Livewire.
Tracy K. Smith
Hi.
Luke Burbank
Hi. Welcome back.
McLeet
Well, it's good to be back.
Luke Burbank
What song are we gonna hear, Macleet?
McLeet
We're gonna hear a song. We're gonna play a song for you called I Want to Sing for Them All. And this is like, this is my anthem. All my Ethiopian influences and my American influences put together into one very danceable number. So if you want to shake on in your seats or get up and dance, well, you know, you are more than welcome.
Luke Burbank
And in your car at home, if you're listening to this right now, I mean, safely put down the cell phone, stop texting, and do a little chair dancing, too.
McLeet
Word up.
Luke Burbank
This is mclead, everybody.
Lacy Healy
It.
McLeet
I grew up listening to Michael and Astaire, Prince and Mahamud. They both took me there. They took me to that place. Music let you find forget get all your trouble I'm burning your mind.
Saeed Jones
I.
McLeet
Found cold terrain in Mariama Day and Dr. Mountain Mulattu he guide me in what I do yeah have a place at my table in me singing a ETH for 2018 single, Leonard Co taught me words that your currency and Mulukan's legacy was written melody they all have a place at my table with me singing on Ethiochia for 2018. Wanna thank you.
Luke Burbank
That was McLeet right here on Livewire make sure you check out her album when the People Move, the Music Moves Too, and also her podcast Movement that is going to do it for this week's episode of Livewire. A huge thanks to our guests Tracy K. Smith, Saeed Jones and McLeet.
Elena Passarello
Lara Haddon is our executive producer, Heather D. Michel is our executive director, and our producer and editor is Melanie Savchenko. Eben Hoffer and Molly Pettit are our technical directors and our house sound is by Dee Neil Blake, Trey Hester is our assistant editor, our marketing and production manager is Karen Pan, Rosa Garcia is our operations associate, Jackie Ibarra is our production fellow and Becky Phillips is our intern. Our house band is Ethan Fox, Tucker, Sam Tucker, AI and A. Walker Spring, who composes our music. This episode was mixed by Molly Pettit and Trey Hester.
Luke Burbank
Additional funding provided by the Oregon Arts Commission, a state agency funded by the State of Oregon and the National Endowment for the Arts. Livewire was created by Robin Tenenbaum and Kate Sokoloff. This week we'd like to thank members Aliyah Keating of Sandy, Oregon and Michelle Rosenthal of Seattle Wild. For more information about our show or how you can listen to our podcast, head on over to livewireradio.org I'm Luke Burbank for Elena Passarello and the whole Livewire crew. Thank you for listening and we will see you next week.
Tracy K. Smith
PRX.
Luke Burbank
Dear Livewire, when we first met, I was really shy. I had no idea we'd spend so much time together or that you'd be one to fill my heart with joy and make me want to be a better person. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here. I was busy reading a review from one of our many, many rapturously smitten listeners. Oh wait. Actually, no. Sorry. This is from Elena. Anyway, the point is, it would be really helpful if you wanted to leave us a review. Feel free to say review nice things about us and we'll even read them now and then on the show so you might hear your review of Livewire read on the program itself. Reviews help other people hear about the show and then we can keep doing this for a long, long time because we love having this job. Thank you so much. If you've left a review, and if you're about to leave a review, you can go ahead and do it right where you get the podcast from.
Tracy K. Smith
PRX.
Live Wire with Luke Burbank: Tracy K. Smith, Saeed Jones, and Meklit (Black History Month Special) Live Wire with Luke Burbank | PRX | Release Date: January 31, 2025
In a special celebration of Black History Month, Live Wire with Luke Burbank brings together some of the most influential voices in contemporary literature and music. Hosted by Luke Burbank, this episode features Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Tracy K. Smith, acclaimed writer and poet Saeed Jones, and the innovative musician McLeet. Through deep conversations and artistic performances, the episode explores themes of freedom, resilience, identity, and the enduring impact of history on the present.
Guest: Tracy K. Smith
Book Discussed: To Free the A Plea for the American Soul
Release Time Stamps: Multiple throughout the conversation
Tracy K. Smith delves into the central premise of her memoir, To Free the A Plea for the American Soul, where she distinguishes between "being free" and "being freed." She articulates a profound observation about the American collective consciousness:
Tracy K. Smith [05:31]: "In the American imagination, there's a group of people who we imagine have always been and will always be free. And it's attached to whiteness in many ways. And for the rest of us, people who descend from histories of violence or colonization or other forms of oppression, we are freed."
Smith reflects on her father's upbringing in Sunflower, Alabama, emphasizing the strength and creativity that sustained her family through systemic segregation:
Tracy K. Smith [06:36]: "It just reminds me of the black love and care and creativity with which his family and he found ways to thrive in a world, in a state, in a system of segregation that was really designed to impede that for black people."
Smith shares intimate stories about her parents' experiences, highlighting the persistent challenges they faced despite their efforts to build a better life:
Tracy K. Smith [10:04]: "There were people for whom the blow of that sense of discrimination disappeared... part of the insidious nature of segregation is that it's something you don't get used to. It's something that can take the wind out of you each time."
She discusses her journey through understanding her parents' struggles and the legacy they left behind, revealing how her father's professional setbacks and familial obligations shaped her own path:
Tracy K. Smith [13:30]: "There was this bill from the federal government saying, you owe us $1,030 for overshipment of household goods. I knew that he felt accused of stealing or lying... he was an honest man and we were a big family."
Addressing personal challenges, Smith opens up about her sobriety and the transformative power of accountability and community support:
Tracy K. Smith [23:27]: "After I had three young kids, I went through a period of intense grief... So there came a moment where I feel like there was like a divine intervention where I said, I really want... it was never going to feel right."
She expresses hope for societal change, emphasizing the importance of collective responsibility and the potential for liberation through mutual support:
Tracy K. Smith [24:55]: "I have kids, and so I really need to be hopeful... part of sobriety for me is realizing that it's not a burden to accept accountability. It's actually, you know, it could be this wonderful form of liberation."
Guest: Saeed Jones
Book Discussed: Alive at the End of the World
Release Time Stamps: Multiple throughout the conversation
Saeed Jones explores the intricate relationship between grief and queerness in his poetry collection, Alive at the End of the World. He discusses how personal loss and cultural narratives intersect to shape his creative expression:
Saeed Jones [30:05]: "I find power in acknowledging that perhaps I'm still enthralled to a dynamic that I would very much like to move on from or claim a sense of power in relation to."
Jones addresses the societal pressures to move past emotional experiences, critiquing the capitalist ethos that discourages prolonged grief and self-examination:
Saeed Jones [34:04]: "Capitalism... move on, get up, because you got to get back to work."
He discusses the blurred lines between fiction and nonfiction in his poetry, highlighting how his work serves as both personal memoir and collective history:
Saeed Jones [40:11]: "This is a nonfiction poem where essentially, like, looking at poetry's potential to kind of function as a personal essay."
Jones reads a poignant poem from his collection, illustrating his contemplations on grief and memory:
Saeed Jones [31:19]: "I wonder if my dead mother still thinks of me... I wonder if I'm the song she hums as she waits for the light to change."
In discussing his inspirations, Jones references iconic figures like Maya Angelou and Billie Holiday, exploring their influence on his work and understanding of black identity:
Saeed Jones [35:56]: "Maya Angelou is really homophobic because of rumors about Billie Holiday's bisexuality. She says, I mean, very transparent in her own writing."
He reflects on the complexity of these relationships and their impact on contemporary black culture:
Saeed Jones [38:42]: "It's incredible. What are the odds?"
Musical Guest: McLeet
Performance: "I Want to Sing for Them All"
Release Time Stamp: [46:00]
McLeet captivates the audience with her unique blend of East African sounds and Bay Area influences, creating a vibrant Ethio jazz performance. Her song, "I Want to Sing for Them All," serves as an anthem that encapsulates her cultural heritage and personal artistry:
McLeet [46:06]: "We're gonna hear a song for you called I Want to Sing for Them All. This is my anthem. All my Ethiopian influences and my American influences put together into one very danceable number."
Her performance underscores the episode's themes of cultural migration and the synthesis of diverse musical traditions, offering listeners an exhilarating experience that bridges continents and generations.
This Live Wire episode serves as a compelling tribute to Black History Month, weaving together powerful narratives and artistic expressions that highlight the resilience, creativity, and enduring spirit of the Black community. Through heartfelt conversations with Tracy K. Smith and Saeed Jones, complemented by McLeet's dynamic musical performance, the episode offers listeners a profound exploration of history, identity, and the pursuit of freedom.
Tracy K. Smith [05:31]: "In the American imagination, there's a group of people who we imagine have always been and will always be free..."
Tracy K. Smith [10:04]: "There were people for whom the blow of that sense of discrimination disappeared..."
Tracy K. Smith [23:27]: "After I had three young kids, I went through a period of intense grief..."
Saeed Jones [30:05]: "I find power in acknowledging that perhaps I'm still enthralled to a dynamic that I would very much like to move on from..."
Saeed Jones [34:04]: "Capitalism... move on, get up, because you got to get back to work."
McLeet [46:06]: "We're gonna hear a song called I Want to Sing for Them All. This is my anthem..."
Tune in to Live Wire with Luke Burbank for more enriching conversations and performances that celebrate diverse voices and stories shaping our world today.