I first saw Nikki Giovanni in the fall of my sophomore year of college.
I’d never seen anyone so uncompromising and electrifying. She took hold of a room of about 500 people that day in a way I’ve never seen paralleled. As generous and love-centered with each word, as she was irreverent and sharp-edged. Nothing and no one was spared.
It was a transformative lesson for me that I’m still learning from on what radical love looks like embodied and in public. She held a mirror to my complicities, my hesitations, my self-doubts and called me forward. Called all of us toward something more courageous.
That evening I first saw her, she read a poem of hers about Emmett Till, in particular reckoning with those who asked Mamie Till-Mobley why she wouldn’t feel ashamed to leave the casket of her dear son open. And Emmett’s mom responding, “This not my shame. This is yours.”
Encountering that idea at a time in my life where I was so overcome with a confluence of shames—inherited, cultural, intergenerational, etc—was revelatory.
I went home and wrote a poem after Nikki’s piece, which I hand-wrote out, recorded a recitation of (on cassette tape!), and mailed (with a Thank you card) addressed to Professor Giovanni at Virginia Tech.
A month later, she mailed me back a glowing hand-written letter about my poem and how much it meant to her to receive my package.
I think now, even more than I recognized then, how utterly absurd it was for her to respond at all. My goodness. That she remained so deliberate about pouring into and lifting up so many of us? Whether colleagues, other writers, or a random sophomore in college who barely had a sense about anything?
There aren’t words for her impact or legacy, or the void left her absence. An absolute giant of history. And far beyond the immeasurable legacy of her creative work, I hope to emulate the kind of mentor and citizen she was.
What an honor to share the stage with her at two events over the years. This photo was taken at the first of them, that we did together in Philly in 2009.
#NikkiGiovanni