The world is abuzz, still reflecting on the prophetically intense words shared by Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman. I would imagine her presence at the presidential inauguration on January 20, 2021 has thrust her to the forefront of the world's attention; the pre -orders for her upcoming works have skyrocketed and the demand for her presence is unimaginable. Some may mistake her presence as the anomaly, the unexpected gift to the world: a young woman of color. 

To the unknowing, Ms. Gorman is the new face of the literary world. To the knowing, she is yet only the latest in a long history and heritage of poets of color. 

The poetic proclamations of God’s earth-hued children dates back to Miriam’s song of victory in the Bible. It traverses the landscape of history through the voices of Phyllis Wheatley, Langston Hughes, Countee Cullen, and Gwendolyn Brooks. 

Voices of color have been heralds of hope reminding us that despite the challenges of this world, “we rise.” In the vivid descriptions of experiences too painful to relive, wounds too deep to see, African American poets have committed to paper the personal stories that many eyes may never have seen or have refused to acknowledge.

Yes, this is Black History Month. And yes, I hope to share with you each week something telling about the richness of my roots that spread farther than my biological family, crisscrossing the divides of life, tracing back to the motherland, God’s garden. I hope that as we journey through this month we will all learn; that we will learn that we have a long way to go to appreciate the richness and worth of humankind. But there is no better day to begin that lesson than now.

“If now isn't a good time for the truth I don't see when we'll get to it.” (Nikki Giovanni)