In Gorman’s recent collection of poems, Call Us What We Carry, she weaves together words that represent the overall human experience during a year of extreme isolation and the Black experience in a time of racial unrest. This might sound grim, but Gorman infuses a great amount of hope into her work at regular intervals: “As a Black female poet, I think so many people expected my poems to be angry because of that schema. I’m like, yes, I have the right to be angry. But I wanted to really have freedom to speak with hope in the same way that white male poets get to do. Why can’t that voice of a people, a generation, come from someone who looks like me? Not too long ago, my ancestors would’ve been persecuted for reading and writing, and I’m the inaugural poet of the United States. If anything, as a Black woman, I feel like that makes me the most hopeful.”
That mantle, “voice of a generation,” is a hard one to carry, especially when you’re fighting the perception that everyone under 25 (Gorman is 23) is frivolous. “I think a lot of fingers get pointed at Gen Z,” she says. “But the word ‘woke’ in itself invokes this idea that you are willing to sit a bit longer with information and think a bit more curiously about history. That necessitates a long attention span. It also necessitates, I think, empathy and understanding as a human being.” And where is the frivolity in that?
On each page of Call Us What We Carry, you can see a balance between empathy and playfulness. The words flow on the page in different patterns, encouraging the reader to follow a rhythm — one entirely in chat bubbles, another paced out in the image of a fish. “I wanted the page to be my playground, playing with shape, format, rhythm, text, font, which are all kind of instruments that I typically can’t use in a spoken word performance,” Gorman says. And she educates her reader as much as she entertains. “For me, it’s not enough to write lines that sound pretty. The greatest challenge in my writing is doing all of that while bringing some deeper historical resonance with it.”
In some way, everything Gorman does has deep roots that she acknowledges — even putting on makeup. “I read about the history of makeup on the stage and how, in part, it was used as a storytelling device, especially [for a] larger audience,” she says. “[It] makes your features a lot more apparent to a watcher who might feel distant. And I knew that this inauguration, for many people, was going to feel less intimate because it was all virtual. So having vibrant makeup was a way for me to feel my best, but also a way that I wanted my face to make people feel a bit closer to me in who I was and what I was saying.” |