It is time for me to finally write this piece, which I have been thinking about for three years, ever since I first became aware of what I'll call the Hampshire Poetry Problem. As a lover of poetry, I was excited from my first day of orientation to get involved with poetry groups and events at Hampshire. I quickly discovered a wonderful community in the student group called the Hampshire College Slam Collective (HCSC), and in my first semester made many dear friends there who I remain close with today.
I was shocked, then, when several friends of mine from a different circle expressed a strong resentment of the Slam Collective because they perceived the group as being too insular, too narrow and “cliquey.” They felt alienated and unwelcome at Slam Collective open mics. They made fun of the style of poetry that is dominant at Slam Collective events, and they expressed anger over the fact that many poets who write in different styles – especially students of color who write rhyming, hip hop poetry – were not being showcased.
That's when I first became aware of the problems facing Slam Collective, and by extension the Hampshire poetry scene at large. With this manifesto, I want to name these problems and open up a conversation about them with the Hampshire community. James Baldwin said “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” In that spirit, let us face these problems bravely, and in doing so begin the process of changing them.
There is a complex and dramatic history behind the formation of Slam Collective into what it currently is and has been for the last three or four years. This history is important insofar as it provides a context for understanding how we arrived at the current Poetry Problem. Without naming names or getting too caught up in the blame game, let us just say that over the course of its evolution as a student group the Collective gradually became dominated by a tight circle of friends who are very passionate about poetry and poetry slams. This group of friends – my friends – became the face of Slam Collective, and as its most active members we constructed the core values of the group. Among these values is maintaining a strong presence at outside poetry slams such as those at the Cantab Lounge in Boston, the College Union Poetry Slam Invitational (CUPSI), and the National Poetry Slam (NPS). On the one hand, the HCSC's participation in these large events is an exciting and praiseworthy accomplishment; in fact Hampshire became the first college to ever represent itself with a team at the National Poetry Slam. But on the other hand, the emphasis on involvement with regional and national poetry forums has distracted our group from its functions in the local Hampshire community. Because of the high level of commitment required in order to attend outside events, the Collective continues to feel divided between an “inner circle” of poetry slam enthusiasts and an “outer circle” of peripheral members who attend the open mics on and off. Also, many of the poets who are in the “inner circle” are close friends who are often consuming the same poetry. As a result, newcomers often get the sense that there is a certain style of “slam poetry” that is favored at HCSC events. The same five, six, or seven poets regularly read their work, and these poets become like mini-celebrities in our own small circle of writer-friends. Every week, we get to be the stars. It is easy to feel intimidated by a tight-knit group like this.
The group that was formed which eventually came to dominate Slam Collective was perceived as promoting a certain style or tradition of writing and performance which did not include hip hop poetry among other styles. This offended many students who felt that the group's exclusivity reinforced dynamics of racial privilege. Unfortunately, some conflicts that started between individuals became generalized to different groups of friends, which split our poetry scene in two. Tensions between HCSC and its former members who felt excluded rose to a point in which angry attacks and protests were made against Slam Collective as a whole. For example, some students defaced Slam Collective posters with the slogan "White poetry is not slam." This particular protest was somewhat tactless because it only led to hurt feelings instead of a dialogue. Tensions rose further. Soon, a number of students stopped coming to Slam Collective's open mics, which they felt were no longer a welcoming space for many students of color. Today, this reputation has become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
It is really a shame that the Slam Collective open mics attract only meager turnouts, because there are so many self-identified poets at Hampshire who should in theory feel comfortable attending an event where other poets, writers and artists can share their work and connect with each other on a weekly basis. I am disheartened when I think of all the poets I know who have come to Slam Collective open mics and felt too intimidated or alienated to return regularly. One challenge is that the poetry slam format requires audience members to rank poems and poets in relation to each other, and thereby creates a paradigm that constructs poetry as something that can be judged objectively. While the poetry slam game can be useful for getting people excited about poetry, it has unfortunately created a competitive environment that encourages poets to be ambitious and self-promoting. We slammers often have trouble remembering that essential truth about poetry slam: “The point is not the points, the point is the poetry.” In the last few years, our Slam Collective has become too concerned with its own name and fame in outside venues such as the Cantab Lounge, CUPSI, and NPS. Meanwhile, the group continues to attract small numbers. In order for the HCSC to expand its borders and include more of the Hampshire student body, this competitive paradigm has to be subverted. More emphasis should be placed on providing a safe space for writers on our own campus, rather than promoting a few regulars to more prestigious spheres. We must ask ourselves to what extent it is problematic for the Slam Collective to represent Hampshire at outside events such as Poetry Night at the Cantab Lounge, CUPSI, or NPS, while remaining a small, exclusive group on a campus filled with a diverse multitude of poets. Are we really representing Hampshire, or merely our own clique?
It is also problematic for a student group dedicated to “slam” to host an open mic where hip hop poetry is not represented, because this reinforces a racist dichotomy that separates “poetry” from “rap,” and implicitly privileges the former. Students of color who come to HCSC events with the intention of performing a rap are inevitably perceived as different from the majority. This difference in writing style then becomes racially interpellated; black emcees are positioned as “other,” and thus their voices become marginalized. This problem, which began about three years ago when the group first became dominated by a tight circle of friends, has now become a chicken-and-egg scenario. Though me and my friends at Slam Collective are well-intentioned and have tried to reach out to the larger Hampshire community, the problem remains unchanged. So far, we have not done enough to challenge it.
It is understandable, then, why a second poetry group was formed, “Urban Word,” that is dedicated to promoting more hip-hop-influenced styles of poetry. This group filled a hole in Hampshire's student community by providing safe spaces for students of color who are emcees, rappers, or any other sort of poet to perform their work. The group soon became very popular, more so than the HCSC, and their events seem to attract more diverse audiences. But because they focus on promoting “urban” styles of poetry, they are also appealing to a specific cultural group, and therefore do not provide a space dedicated to Hampshire's full, vibrant community of writers.
To clarify: I am not accusing any individuals of being "racist." This piece is not meant to blame anyone or suggest that there is any hatred involved. These problems are rooted in huge systemic power structures that separate so-called "races" and "cultures." The most challenging aspect of these problems is their cyclical nature and ability to function implicitly, without any active participation of individuals or personally "racist" acts. Laissez-faire systems of oppression are our common enemies; we are not each other's enemies. We must recognize the ways in which these social divisions are problematic for all of us, not just one side. We must "put aside our differences," not in the cliche sense of ignoring them, but in the sense of working together to understand, question, deconstruct, and reconstruct them. We must unite in the struggle against segregation and essentialism. This is the meaning of the word "Ally."
So here, in a nutshell, is Hampshire's Poetry Problem as I see it: instead of having a space where every member of the Hampshire community feels welcome and encouraged to share their poetry, we have two groups on campus that are holding poetry events for specific sub-communities that are separated by a racial-cultural divide. The first group, Slam Collective, is dominated by a tight-knit group of friends, a clique perhaps, that alienates newcomers who write in different styles. The second group, Urban Word, was founded in response to the need for a space that celebrates hip-hop-influenced styles of poetry, and thus defines itself more or less in opposition to the Slam Collective. The result is that both groups are staying within specific circles of writers that are defined by different cultural-racial styles, and each fail to provide a space where the two communities – both centered around poetry – coexist and overlap.
Is it just me, or does this contradict all of our so-called “progressiveness” here at Hampshire College? Why is it that we are so capable of discussing the dynamics of privilege, oppression, and difference in an academic context, but cannot seem to tackle them on our own campus? Our social politics are in glaring opposition with our ideals. This seems to be a recurring theme at Hampshire. We are experts on theories of social change, but when it comes to applying these theories in our own school community by organizing across social barriers, we appear helpless. Doesn't it often seem like even for all of our “progressive” pride, we continue to be a student body divided by walls, schisms, and cliques? Why do so many student groups – artistic, cultural, activist, or otherwise – seem to remain so insular and separate, making little or no effort to organize together? In my experience, many students come to Hampshire with the intention of being active in several groups on campus, but when they try to get involved find that they are unable to penetrate the cliques at the centers of these groups. Why do we struggle with cliqueyness so much, and what can we do to challenge it? Especially when it comes to racial dynamics on campus, we appear to be the opposite of what we strive to imagine in our classrooms. This is an ironic subversion of Hampshire's values. In this light, we can see how the Poetry Problem is a microcosm of the larger cultural challenges we face at Hampshire, which are themselves microcosms of the various systems of oppression that are still so deeply rooted in our country's collective subconscious. While we are talking about the Poetry Problem, we might as well question why Hampshire does not have a student union building, or how the school perceives its role in providing spaces and events that are open to the whole student community, or in facilitating discussions on social politics of difference, or, for that matter, why there are so relatively few students of color at Hampshire in the first place.
But for now, let's focus on the Poetry Problem. There is a racial-cultural wall through the middle of our poetry community, and not enough has been done to break it down or build bridges over it. It is important to recognize that the Slam Collective, as the group that originally became exclusive through dynamics of social barriers and privilege, is to be held responsible for that history. Having been a member of the Slam Collective for years, I can vouch that we are all good people who are aware of this problem and are trying to take steps toward solving it. These steps, though, have so far been mostly ineffective or misguided. This is because the central issue, our cliqueyness, has not been focused on enough. To be fair, this problem consists of subtle dynamics that are difficult to challenge or reverse. We must be more careful about how we conduct ourselves at our open mics, making it as clear as possible that these are intended for a large, dynamic community, rather than a regular group of insiders. We should also organize more with other student groups, and discover new intersections between poetry, activism, art, music, and culture on campus. But instead of confronting the cliqueyness problem head-on, we have so far made mostly superficial attempts at opening up the group, such as advertising our events with posters. Another strategy that past and present signers of the group have used to encourage diversity at HCSC events has been booking a diverse range of featured poets, including many poets of color. While a diversity of showcased professional poets is no doubt important, and I am proud of Slam Collective for our commitment to this value, this also is not a sufficient means for breaking down the group's cultural barriers. So far our strategies have failed to attract bigger or more diverse crowds to Slam Collective open mics, likely because newcomers still feel like outsiders from the friend group that dominates the events. It is also in some ways problematic for Slam Collective to reach outside of its home community for poets of color as a strategy for “diversifying” our audience without confronting the racial tensions at our open mics, because this becomes an act of tokenization. In order for real changes to take place, we must first change our perspective on Slam Collective's mission and role on campus.
And what is that role? In my opinion, it should be primarily to provide artistic neutral zones, safe spaces for all self-identified poets to share their work, especially in the form of a weekly open mic. Hampshire desperately needs such a space, and currently neither of our poetry groups are providing it. While Urban Word has done a wonderful job of opening up the poetry community to a large portion of our student body, its project is too specific to provide such a neutral zone. It is intentionally specific, while Slam Collective has become specific through unintended circumstances. Also, because Urban Word is a performance collective with an audition process, they are not in a good position to sponsor a weekly open mic to the Hampshire community. Their work has been primarily to provide a workshop space for their own members and organize performances to showcase their work. The one or two open mics they host each semester in addition to their performances have been highly successful, but very ambitious given their group's structure. Ironically, this has complicated the Poetry Problem by creating another “closed” poetry group. We are left with two groups that are both in some ways exclusive, and without a weekly open mic that actually feels open. Because of the cyclical nature of these dynamics, Slam Collective is no longer in a position to solve the Poetry Problem on its own. This is a hole in our poetry community that both groups must work together to fill.
The argument has been made that there is nothing wrong with having two poetry groups with different missions and different target audiences. It has also been pointed out that all open mics tend to have their own circles of regulars, and that this is to some extent a natural aspect of any club. While there is some truth to these points, they still do not excuse the Poetry Problem, and to claim they do is to miss the larger picture of what is happening at Hampshire. Yes, it is ok to have two poetry groups with different focuses; this could potentially be a source of a rich artistic and cultural dialogue. But currently there is no harmonious counterpoint between the two groups but rather separation, silence, and in some cases bitter grudges left over from an unfortunate history. What we have now is a sort of laissez-faire segregation in our poetry scene, a racial boundary that must be challenged. Unless our two groups are committed to sharing spaces and conversations, we are choosing to remain comfortably ignorant of the different dimensions of our shared, changing artistic communities. In short, we need to talk to each other.
While the creation of Urban Word has opened up the poetry scene at Hampshire in important ways, the evolution of our poetry community remains limited by the divisions in our social groups. Compared to many poetry venues, both Slam Collective and Urban Word remain relatively small. Even Urban Word, which attracts somewhat larger audiences than Slam Collective, has lots of growing room. Though surely every open mic has its regulars and to some extent an inner circle, all of the best open mics I have encountered have made it their mission to expand their circles and celebrate a larger, diverse community, based on the principle that all members are united by a love for poetry and a belief in its power as a vehicle for social change. Sometimes when I bring up this topic in conversation, I am asked where such a utopian open mic exists. I reply by saying that I am lucky enough to have grown up in Chicago, where the spoken word scene is like an enormous family that connects people from all parts of the city and suburbs with drastically different writing styles. One open mic in particular comes to mind: “Wordplay,” which is hosted by Young Chicago Authors every Tuesday and continues to attract huge crowds of young people from the North side, South side, West side, and suburbs. Because of where I come from, I know that a poetry scene does not have to be divided. Indeed, we are most empowered and inspired when we celebrate the greater unity within the plurality of this mosaic artistic revolution called “spoken word.” When we are stuck in our own little comfortable cliques, our poetry becomes more and more derivative, because we are not exposed to new styles that challenge our assumptions and paradigms. “Cliqueyness” is counter-productive for our growth as artists. We can only grow when we are taken out of our comfort zones and inspired by art that challenges or changes our perspectives.
This detrimental effect of homogeneity is true not only in terms of our personal evolution as artists but also on a larger scale in terms of our social evolution. How can we develop critical discussions by always “preaching to the choir?” This is ineffective. We should be using art as a forum for conversations, not monologues. We should be trying to understand and learn from each other, recognizing the unity within our diversity. I am not arguing for that cliché paradigm of “colorblindness,” because blindness is never good. Rather, I want to imagine our poetry community as a rainforest: beautiful in its colorful, plural, paradoxical makeup. We need not fall back on old discourses of the “melting pot” solution to racial-cultural tensions. Instead, let us construct a new, polycultural concept of our community as a fluid, living hybrid entity. Let us put into practice our beloved theories that show us how racial-cultural identities are not essences located in individuals but rather social constructs that exist in the space between “self” and “other,” relational positions of power, privilege, thought and emotion. This will allow us to openly discuss, challenge, and reinvent the categories that constrict us. Let us assume agency over our identities, and actively confront essentialist ways of thinking that put every thing and every body into neat little boxes. We would do well to remember that hip hop poetry does not belong exclusively to “black” history or culture, because history is an ongoing process that belongs to everyone, not just certain groups. Authentic performances of “hip hop” and “slam poetry” are not limited only to people with certain bodies, because cultures are inherently syncretic and porous. In fact, the many histories, traditions, and cultures associated with “hip hop” are inextricably linked with those of “slam poetry,” and these histories collectively construct our identities as poets today. Let us reclaim this interconnectedness. From a polycultural perspective, we are not subjects but agents of cultural identity and history. In our search for authenticity, let us not allow fixed categories to tell us who we are, but embrace the never-ending process of becoming ourselves. Our choices determine who we are as much as anything else. We are the authors of ourselves and our realities. As poets, it is our duty to “write” what is wrong.
So here we are. What do we do? Regardless of who is responsible for past offenses and mistakes, let us assume equal responsibility for the future of our poetry community. The Poetry Problem has created a division that makes no sense, so what can we do to solve it? What are things that make sense? I'll get the ball rolling. First of all, we need to keep talking about these issues. Only by naming and communicating these problems can we begin to imagine and implement solutions. I would love to organize a public forum for addressing this question, such as an all-community meeting. While we are discussing the Poetry Problem, we might want to organize meetings to address issues concerning racial politics and patterns of cliqueyness at Hampshire in general. What other issues on our campus intersect with the Poetry Problem, and what can we learn by comparing and exploring similar situations? I also invite any and all responses to this piece, either open or private. Consider this manifesto a long-winded conversation-starter. Let the conversation begin!
Here are some more things that make sense: What if members of both groups started making an intentional effort to attend each other's events, and also plugged each other's events at their own? What if the two groups co-sponsored at least one event every semester with the intention of building a common social network? Instead of seeing these two groups as being different communities that both happen to write poetry, let us imagine them as two projects within one community whose mission is to provide spaces for sharing and celebrating poetry. What if both collectives co-sponsored an open mic themed on “breaking walls,” an event dedicated to sharing stories of barriers or cliques on campus and ideas for mixing up different groups? What if we collaborated with other student groups on campus to combine poetry with music, art, activism, and cultural projects? Because of the powers of narrative, performance, and the spoken word to communicate emotions and experience, our two groups are actually in a position to become leaders of social transformation at Hampshire. Poets are and always have been storytellers and activists. We should be outspoken voices in community conversations on oppression, denial, and social change. We are supposed to be prophets of the revolution! If the poets aren't stepping up to the plate, who will?!
Most of all, I believe Hampshire needs a weekly open mic, in the true sense of the term: a safe, inclusive forum that welcomes everyone to participate in an ongoing poetic conversation. This is what will bring us together most, and this is what we must now reinvent for ourselves. We want an open mic that makes us proud of Hampshire and grateful to go here. We want an open mic that represents our vast range of poetic voices, an open mic as diverse as Hampshire itself – or more so. We want an open mic that is attended every week by thirty, forty, fifty people who feel they are all part of the same artistic family. We want an open mic that offers a community and a safe space for every student at Hampshire regardless of race, gender, sexual, religious, or national identity, where all members are respected as unique individuals with something to offer the group, where we are united by our commitment to sharing our own stories and listening closely to the stories of others. We want an open mic that upholds a commitment to our common values of Creativity, Self-Expression, Critical Dialogue, Story-Telling, Activism, Understanding, Unity, and Love. We want an open mic that exists as a progressive space for conversations on political issues in places as far away as Tibet or as close as SAGA. We want an open mic that celebrates the diversity of our creative voices, that welcomes all styles of poetry, rap, hip hop, music, and performance. We want an open mic that challenges stereotypes of what “poets” and “emcees” look or sound like, that blurs the lines between false dichotomies like page vs stage poetry, language vs political poetry, or “black” vs “white” poetry. We want an open mic that inspires artists to perform for the first time and keep performing. We want an open mic that is truly OPEN, where newcomers feel immediately welcomed and excited, an open mic that is not defined by a clique or a club but by the very hybridity of our many backgrounds, as diverse as a rainforest, ever in flux, always sharing, learning, growing, evolving.
This is my manifesto and my prayer. May such an open mic emerge from our divided groups, and may it blossom into a leading institution for progressive conversations at Hampshire. If we are what we say we are, we will definitely take on this challenge with courage. By taking steps toward breaking down racial-cultural walls at Hampshire, we will empower ourselves and others to confront such challenges in the larger contexts of our social realities, and little by little send ripples that will affect positive changes in our world. May we all unite as allies in this struggle, as many voices with a common purpose, different artists working together to imagine a better future, and may poets reclaim our timeless role as prophets of Justice and Truth!
An excellent manifesto, an excellent start. As a queer person who has always felt alienated as HCSC because of its heteronormativity, I think this is also an issue which needs to be addressed.
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