By Norma Adams-Wade
Columnist
Add me to the swell of folk heaping accolades on Amanda Gorman, the 22-year-old who is the youngest poet in U. S. history to present her poem at a presidential inauguration–in this case, the January 20, 2021 swearing-in of President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris. By the time you read this writing–if there is any fairness in life–Ms. Gorman’s name will be well secured as the sensational, smash-hit star she has become. CNN media commentator Van Jones described her as “a supernova being born.” Gorman’s celebrity burst forth after she read her inauguration poem, “The Hill We Climb,” on the steps of the U. S. Capitol. Her eager smile further accented her brilliant yellow coat she wore and bright-red silk cloth that adorned her neatly-braided hair.
African-Americans can be proud to claim her among our ranks, and as one who identifies herself as a voice for the African diaspora, issues of oppression, marginalization and race. She was born and raised in Los Angeles by her mother Joan Wicks, a teacher, and she has two siblings including a twin sister. She studied sociology at Harvard College, the undergraduate program of Harvard University. While at Harvard College in 2017, she was picked as America’s first National Youth Poet Laureate in a program co-sponsored by the Library of Congress.
It is unfortunate if you did not hear her read in person her deep-thinking and inspiring poem about our American experience–good, bad, ugly, and hopeful. Her presentation and pose were magnetic. The words on paper do not do justice to her powerful, spoken words. There is no doubt that Maya Angelou, who read her own poem “On the Pulse of Morning” at Bill Clinton’s 1993 inauguration, would have beamed with pride as most of the nation is now doing.
Here are excerpts from Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb”:
When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry, a sea we must wade. We’ve braved the belly of the beast. We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace. In the norms and notions of what just is, isn’t always just-ice. And yet, the dawn is ours…before we knew it. Somehow, we do it. Somehow, we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.
We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny Black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.
We are striving to forge our union with purpose, to compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man. And so, we lift our gazes not to what stands between us, but what stands before us. We close the divide because we know, to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside. We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.
If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made. That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb if only we dare it. Because being American is more than a pride we inherit; it’s the past we step into and how we repair it.
We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be: a country that is bruised, but whole; benevolent, but bold; fierce and free.
Norma Adams-Wade is a veteran, award-winning Journalist, a graduate of UT-Austin and Dallas native. She is also one of the founders of the National Association of Black Journalists (NABJ) and was inducted into the NABJ Hall of Fame.
