Documenting Histories, Interpreting Dreams - Frank Sherlock
Documenting Histories, Interpreting Dreams
The city's approachable Poet Laureate on the verse form of Philadelphia
Jan. 07, 2016
It'due south been two years at present since I got the call letting me know I was to be Philadelphia's new Poet Laureate. I was in bed. Lindsay So from the Role of Arts, Culture & the Creative Economy chosen to inform me that I'd been selected to be the city's verse representative for 2014-15. There was Sonia Sanchez starting time—and at present me. Whaaa? It was so overwhelming that I immediately took a nap. A really satisfying nap. When I woke up, I thought I might have dreamed the whole thing, and then I called Lindsay back, but to confirm that nosotros had actually talked and that I was really going to be laureate. Yeah. It was happening.
The press conference was wonderful. I got to hang out in the Mayor'southward office. At that place'southward a whole wall at that place that's lined with shiny shovels for groundbreaking ceremonies. I don't know why, but I got actually excited about that. I met our countdown Youth Poet Laureate, Siduri Beckman, for the first time. She was elegant and sophisticated beyond her years. She was elegant and sophisticated beyond my years, and I'm iii times her age. I asked her if she had any advice for me. She told me, "Smiling a lot." That was the beginning time I idea, "Oh no. I might be in trouble."
I've always been fatigued to the notion of the poet as cartographer (a maker of maps), and WYB became a vehicle for people in every corner of the metropolis to chart their street with a poem. Philadelphia is its ain anthology, and the poets included are on the subway, in bars, in churches, our schools and our jails.
But I did smile a lot in the months that followed, and it wasn't even fake. I got shout-outs in the street from librarians, one percenters (the bikers not the bankers), block captains and school teachers. I didn't smile all the time, though. Drunks recited poems at me that they had memorized in schoolhouse. Academics asked with suspicion how I got the position. And, of course, there was detest(r) post. Believe it or non, poets can exist terrible people besides. Aside from the highs and lows, at that place was a question that was asked over and over:
"What does a Poet Laureate practice?"
My answer: Be a face for poetry. Raise the art class's profile in the city. Chip away at the notion of poesy as a hermetic, alienated do. Bring it into our everyday city living. Make information technology interactive. Participatory. Inviting. I liked that response. Next question… how?
I adult a programme chosen Write Your Block to address some of these challenges, with the intent of providing space and opportunity for Philadelphians to explore their neighborhoods via verse. I've always been drawn to the notion of the poet as cartographer (a maker of maps), and WYB became a vehicle for people in every corner of the city to chart their street with a poem.
With support from the Philadelphia OACCE and The Philadelphia Denizen's Jenn McCreary—a 2013 Pew Young man for poesy— I developed a downloadable toolkit to provide ways a poem tin be used to map personal landmarks, histories, traditions and experiences that help identify our communities. Philadelphia is its ain anthology, and the poets included are on the subway, in bars, in churches, our schools and our jails. This is a body of piece of work that will continue to develop long afterwards I've come up and gone as Laureate. I was happy to brand Write Your Block a thing, and will be proud to encounter it live on in its 2022 manifestation, here at The Citizen. (WYB can be constitute here right now; it volition move to The Citizen in a few weeks.)
For my part, I conducted a WYB pedagogy artist workshop through the Bartol Stockton Blitz Foundation, taking art educators on a walking/writing tour in the vicinity of fifteen th & Cherry-red. I also conducted six-week workshops with kids from Mighty Writers Westward in Mantua, and Taller Puertorriqueño in Kensington.
Some of the young people were dwelling schooled; others were in after school programs. We visited a park in Fairhill, where some of the grown-ups hanging around were suspicious of a group of young people writing in notebooks. Ane guy wanted to know what they were writing. A workshop child excitedly told him, "Nosotros're writing poems about the neighborhood!" He nodded and said, "That's what's up. I could write some poems about this neighborhood likewise." I don't know if he ever did, only I promise so.
In Mantua, some parents were initially nervous about their children walking the streets in search of the poems around them. "When I first heard my girl was going to be walking around the neighborhood and writing what she saw, I didn't want her to have any role of information technology," a mother told me afterwards. "She wanted to write, and then I let her get. I'k grown. I've seen these streets. Just when I saw what she saw, compared to what I come across… it was really beautiful. Thank you."
I was lucky to experience these moments firsthand, but there were many more than WYB poems that came from all over the metropolis. They were springing from places and events that I had no idea were even happening. There were poems generated from a begetter/daughter dance in Port Richmond, schoolhouse assignments, library exercises in Wynnefield, and individuals who found out about the project past discussion-of-mouth. I block in Germantown threw a writing party to write about their street. Some of those neighbors had never written a verse form before.
Submissions came in from every neighborhood, written by children, political figures, seasoned poets and citizens returning from prison house. They talked nigh the streets they live in and the bug that impact them—police brutality, under-funded schools, criminal offense, trash, the kindness of neighbors, the beauty of trees and the ability of love.
"When I start heard my girl was going to exist walking around the neighborhood and writing what she saw, I didn't want her to have any part of information technology," a mother told me. "She wanted to write, so I let her go. I'm grown. I've seen these streets. But when I saw what she saw, compared to what I encounter… it was really cute. Thanks."
I've been fortunate to share these years with Philadelphia, doing the thing I love best. I'm grateful to get to expand my horizons and get to know poets I should take known before, only didn't. I am diddled away past the young poets coming out of our schools. The kids and mentors from Philadelphia Youth Verse Movement are champions in every way. Their talent, solidarity and integrity are examples of how I wish more grown-upwardly poets would act.
I had the honor of working with 2015-sixteen Youth Poet Laureate David Jones. (Sentry out for this guy in the years to come up! I'm serious.) And his predecessor Soledad Alfaro-Allah? I can't fifty-fifty… I know I was supposed to exist her mentor, merely she's the one who inspired me—to be a better writer and a better human.
Information technology turns out perchance it was a dream after all. But something real happened, and it won't end when my time as laureate is over. That something is this metropolis, this poem—Philadelphia. The neighborhood stories will live on, through Write Your Block and through the innovative, engaging piece of work of the next poet laureate. I'll exist in that location later this month at the mayor'south press conference to embrace my successor and pass the laurels on. Information technology's not my style to tell people to smile. And I know from feel that I won't take to.
Frank Sherlock, a 2013 Pew Fellow for poetry, was Philadelphia'southward second Poet Laureate, from January 2014 to December 2015.
Header Photo: Colin Lenton
Source: https://thephiladelphiacitizen.org/frank-sherlock-philadelphia-poet-laureate-documenting-histories-interpreting-dreams/