Never have I seen such a sorry sort who would prey on others weakness to feed his insatiable sadist appetite. It begs the questions of where has this world come to that people are pushed to take their own lives as an escape from the nightmare of their existence. No matter your race, color, sexual orientation, or ethnicity we all owe it to ourselves and to each other to promote pride in whom and what we are. Do not hide from yourselves, but face your hell and make it a haven. My mixed race heritage was a taboo where not one side wanted to claim me. But even then I raised my head high and walked steady. Back when it was not only “uncool” to be black, it was dangerous, but I didn’t mind because I had fully embraced my color. I made it so cool to be black that people wanted to wear my skin like clothes. Now, that racism is gradually fading, I just have this to say to the victims of bullying: this, too, shall pass. Everything that has a beginning, must surely have an end.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Hopeful Resilience and Triumph
Literary Analysis
The Negro Mother by Langston Hughes
Children, I come back today
To tell you a story of the long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that the race might live and grow.
Look at my face -- dark as the night --
Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
I am the woman who worked in the field
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I am the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
No safety , no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.
Now, through my children, young and free,
I realized the blessing deed to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
I had only hope then , but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my pass a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs --
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother
To tell you a story of the long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that the race might live and grow.
Look at my face -- dark as the night --
Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
I am the woman who worked in the field
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I am the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
No safety , no love, no respect was I due.
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.
Now, through my children, young and free,
I realized the blessing deed to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
I had only hope then , but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my pass a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs --
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother
During the Harlem Renaissance, there were many poets and writers who spoke vehemently against the social injustices of the times, but none were as vocal as Langston Hughes. His poems and literary works spoke not only of racial issues but also of resilience, hope, and triumph. In conjunction with the times he lived in, his life portrayed the exact sentiments as his literary works. One poem in particular comes to mind, “The Negro Mother”. This poem describes the injustices bore by the speaker, the determination to overcome, and the hope for future generations. When comparing this poem to Langston Hughes’s life, it’s obvious that he used his life experiences to fuel his imagination for his creative works.
When James Hughes (Langston’s father) left for Mexico in order to escape racism in the United States, Langston was foisted on different relatives as his mother worked until he’d graduated high school. That summer, Langston went to visit his father in Mexico
All of Langston’s poems had an undertone of hope and truimph like a lifeline to hold on to. In the “Negro Mother” the speaker commented that, “[She] nourished the dream that nothing could smother” (29). This excerpt portrayed the speaker’s innate hope of better days to come and the knowledge of triumph over racism. Langston Hughes also held a dream; a dream that he would be able to prove his father wrong and become a famous poet. “Langston decided that instead of running away from the "color line" and hating himself for being black, like his father had, he would write about the real-life experiences of black people” (Hurst). He wrote about the good, bad, beautiful, and ugly aspects of black culture even to the disdain of his African American peers. In the end, Langston Hughes overcame his obstacles and triumphed; going on to become the acclaimed “Poet Laureate of Harlem”. As eloquently put by the speaker in the poem, “Now, through my children, young and free, / I realized the blessing deed to me” (19-20).
Langston Hughes used his life experiences as a palette to draw his muse from. His poems speak of resilience, hope, and, most importantly, triumph which was parallel to the direction that his life took. Langston Hughes rose from grass to grace with hopeful resilience and triumphed, “…till no white brother / Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother” (49-50).
Laugh, Love, Live: Harlem Renaissance
Literary Contribution
In the decades immediately following World War I, huge numbers of African Americans migrated to the industrial North from the economically depressed and agrarian South. In cities such as Chicago, Washington, DC, and New York City, the recently migrated sought and found (to some degree) new opportunities, both economic and artistic. African Americans were encouraged to celebrate their heritage and to become "The New Negro” a term coined in 1925 by sociologist and critic Alain LeRoy Locke in his influential book of the same name. However, many black critics at that time would say that Langston Hughes did the opposite. Hughes refused to “sell-out” to escape the stigma of being a black American when others chose to downplay their heritage. As he wrote in “The Negro Artist”:
"We younger Negro artists who create now intend to express our individual dark-skinned selves without fear or shame. If white people are pleased we are glad. If they are not, it doesn't matter. We know we are beautiful. And ugly too” (Chasar).
Hughes celebrated his African-American heritage in each of his works, constantly praising the highs and the lows; never leaving anything out or shying away from the unsavory. Before it was a catchphrase, Hughes knew that black was beautiful. In “Harlem Sweeties” he celebrated the tones of black skin: "Molasses taffy/ Coffee and cream/ Licorice, clove, cinnamon/ To a honey-brown dream." After centuries of poets who described darkness as insidious and foreboding, Hughes recast it as beautiful in “Dream Variations”: "Then rest at cool evening/ Beneath a tall tree/ While night comes on gently,/ Dark like me/ That is my dream!" (Chasar). His goal was to shed the internalized racism and loathing that he felt too many African-Americans possessed. "To my mind, it is the duty of the younger Negro artist, if he accepts any duties at all from outsiders, to change through the force of his art that old whispering 'I want to be white,' hidden in the aspirations of his people, to 'Why should I want to be white? I am a Negro—and beautiful,'" (Gohar).
Works Cited
Chasar, Mike. "The Sounds of Black Laughter and the Harlem Renaissance: Claude McKay, Sterling Brown, Langston Hughes." American Literature 80.1 (2008): 57-81. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 29 April 2011.
GOHAR, SADDIK MOHAMED. "Subverting the History of Slavery and Colonization in the Poetry of M. AI-Fayturi and Langston Hughes." Western Journal of Black Studies 32.1 (2008): 16-29. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 29 April 2011.
Lowney, John. "Langston Hughes and the `Nonsense' of Bebop." American Literature 72.2 (2000): 357. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 2 May 2011
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Sunday, May 1, 2011
Life of Langston Hughes
Renowned Poet Lauerate of African Americans, Langston Hughes was born on February 1, 1902 in Joplin, Missouri, and he was an influential figure in the 1920s literary movement often called the Harlem Renaissance. He was born to Carrie M. Langston and James N. Hughes, but was raised mainly by his mother and grandmother. After graduating high school, Langston spent the year in Mexico with his father whose sole mission was to discourage Langston from pursuing a career in writing. James Hughes interpreted success as how much you have in the bank, and so he failed to see how his son could be successful from being an author. However despite his father’s opposition and subsequent mother’s nonchalance, Langston went on to become a literary genius.
Langston returned to America after convincing his father that he will become a famous writer and enrolled at Columbia University in New York City. But after a year, Hughes left as he found the atmosphere unfriendly to a man of his color. In 1924, Hughes went to live with his mother in Washington D.C. Though these were tough times for Hughes, with racial tensions running high and his job as a hotel busboy paid very little, he was able to write many poems including “The Weary Blues” which won him first prize in 1925 in a literary competition sponsored by a magazine published by the National Urban League called Opportunity. This was just the beginning of his literary success. In 1926, Hughes caught the attention of a novelist and critic, Carl Van Vechten, who arranged publication of Hughes’s first volume of poetry, The Weary Blues which featured his signature poem “The Negro Speaks of Rivers”. Then there was Fine Clothes to the Jew (1927), Not without Laughter (1930), and about twenty plays including “Mulatto”, “Simply Heavenly”, and “Tambourines to Glory”. Hughes also had a column in the Chicago Defender called “Simple”. By 1953, Hughes had received many scholarships, awards, and honorary degrees including the Anisfield-Wolf Award for a book on improving race relations.
Langston Hughes died of complications after abdominal surgery related to prostate cancer on May 22, 1967. He was laid to rest at Schomburg Library of African American Culture in Harlem. Langston Hughes will forever be remembered by being the voice, mind, and spirit of African Americans and his ability to translate the joy, pain and love of blacks to the world.
Works Cited
Reyes, Angelita D. "MEMORY TELLING AND PRAISE-SINGING OF THE GENIUS OF LANGSTON HUGHES." Journal of African American History 94.2 (2009): 266. MasterFILE Premier. EBSCO. Web. 2 May 2011.
Lamb, Robert Paul. "A Little Yellow Bastard Boy": Paternal Rejection, Filial Insistence, and the Triumph of African American Cultural Aesthetics in Langston Hughes's "Mulatto." College Literature 35.2 (2008): 126-153. Academic Search Complete. EBSCO. Web. 2 May 2011
Miller, R. Baxter. "The Collected Works of Langston Hughes." African American Review 38.4 (2004): 727. MasterFILE Premier. EBSCO. Web. 2 May 2011.
Picture Source
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