This is the official blog of Northern Arizona slam poet Christopher Fox Graham. Begun in 2002, and transferred to blogspot in 2006, FoxTheBlog has recorded more than 670,000 hits since 2009. This blog cover's Graham's poetry, the Arizona poetry slam community and offers tips for slam poets from sources around the Internet. Read CFG's full biography here. Looking for just that one poem? You know the one ... click here to find it.

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Tennessee teacher fired for showing students this poem “White Privilege” by Kyla Jenee Lacey

 


What the Author of the Poem “White Privilege” Thinks of a Teacher Getting Fired for Showing It to His Class

“I know that it was just a terrible excuse for their discomfort,” said Kyla Jenee Lacey.
Kyla Jenee Lacey
Last month in Tennessee, social studies teacher Matthew Hawn was dismissed from his position after having his students read an essay by Ta-Nehisi Coates and watch the video of “White Privilege,” a poem written and performed by Kyla Jenee Lacey. 

The school board claimed their decision was rooted in “several inappropriate terms” used in the poem, but Lacey has good reason to be skeptical of that claim.

Hawn’s firing happened within the current uproar about kids being taught about America’s long history with racism, currently (incorrectly) labeled as critical race theory. This was only the latest time Lacey’s poem, which you can watch below, has gone viral. I spoke with Lacey about her poem’s fame, how she uses experiences with racism as fuel for her work, and finding her power. 

A history major who is now a writer, performer, actor, painter, comedian, and poet, she garnishes her exquisite observations about racism with the occasional “fuck.”

Wednesday, July 14, 2021

"Do not go gentle into that good night"

 


Do not go gentle

into that good night,

                                 Old Age 

                                                        should 

BURN and RAVE 
at close of day;

rage
 rage 

against
the dying
of the light.




Though wise men 
at their end know 
dark is right,

Because their words 
                                 had forked no lightning 
                                 they
DO NOT 
                                 go gentle
                                                                  into that good night.

Good men, 
                                 the last wave by, 
                                                                  crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
                                 RAGE
                                              RAGE 
against the dying of the light.



Wild men who 
                                 caught 
                                    and 
                                      sang 
                                         the sun in flight,

And learn, 

too late, 
they grieved it on its way,



Do not go gentle 
into that good night.



Grave men, 
near death, 
who see
with blinding sight
Blind eyes could 
b  l  a  z  e 
like meteors 
and be gay,
Rage, 
R    A    G    E
against the dying 
of the light.

And you, 
my father, 
there 
on the sad height,
                                CURSE
                                                                BLESS me         
                                                                                                                               now 
                                                                                                with your
                                FIERCE
                                                  TEARS
I pray.
DO

NOT
                                go gentle
                                                                into that 
                                                                                                "good" night.


,



                        ... RAGE ....
                                                                AGAINST
                                                                                                         the dying 
                                                                                                                                             of 
                                                                                                                                                       the
                                                                                                                                                                 light.








Dylan Thomas
(Oct. 27, 1914–Nov. 9 1953)