National Black Writer’s Conference: A Literary Feast
Posted By The Editors | March 31st, 2010 | Category: Feature | 1 Comment »Print This Post
By Grace Aneiza Ali
Photos by Brook Stephenson
Perhaps it was the sight of Sonia Sanchez, Toni Morrison, Cornel West, Kamau Brathwaite, and Amiri Baraka huddled together around a table at the conference’s awards reception and chatting it up like old pals out on the town for a Saturday night dinner, that was the most memorable. Theirs was a moment of legends.
Or, perhaps it was when Indian author Meena Alexander put the dialogue in the “East Meets West” panel on hold to recite Audre Lorde. Hers was a moment of the beauty of literary encounters and cultural intersections.
Or, perhaps it was when the young poet and photographer Thomas Sayers Ellis paid tribute to his mentor and fellow poet, Kamau Brathwaite, who he admitted he’d never met until that Thursday night at the conference’s opening ceremony. Loyal to his craft, Ellis’ gift to Brathwaite was a poem itself, in which he said, “I am on this stage (this page) because I owe him.”
This past weekend, I had the honor of being both a speaker and an attendee at the 10th National Black Writers Conference (NBWC) at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn, New York City, spearheaded by Dr. Brenda Greene, Executive Director of the Center for Black Literature. It felt more like a reunion than anything else. Four days of forums, readings, workshops, and special tributes that showcased the breadth and dimension of the 21st century black literary landscape—a literary feast.
The Conference was not without a bit of controversy, however. No conference worth its salt is. Just days before its opening, a New York Times article, “Black Writers Ponder Role and Seek Wider Attention,” questioned if a conference such as this is needed in a post-racial America?
“In the age of President Obama, when successful black writers can be found across genres and a Nobel Prize winner, Toni Morrison, can be tapped to be the honorary chairwoman of the event, do black writers still need a conference to call their own?”
Underscoring the question was the notion, or criticism, that as writers at black writers’ conferences, we are speaking only to ourselves. Martha Southgate, author of Third Girl from the Left, was quoted in the article saying that the dialogue among authors should be extended “beyond our community.”
The New York Times article and the online comments it elicited about the value of a black writers conference in 2010 was certainly a topic of debate throughout the Conference’s weekend. Kevin Powell, the Brooklyn-based writer and activist and a featured speaker, dedicated his entire speech in response to the question of why a black writers conference is needed.
I asked Shani Jamila, radio host and blogger at shanijamila.com, who made the trip from Washington, DC to attend the Conference, to weigh in on the debate. For her, the value lies in the “sacred space” the Conference fosters. “Sacred spaces like the one created by the NBWC are critically important for nurturing the deep community creativity that allows our collective imagination to flourish,” she says.
Politics, controversies and post-racial America debates aside, what I found most powerful about the National Black Writers Conference was the very thing that was most easily missed or at best, overshadowed. The Conference served as a place, a moment in time, that bridged the gap between generations of writers and literary change makers. It was space of intersection—cultural and generational—that for me was its most sacred quality.
Years ago, when I read Meena Alexander’s Nampally Road for the first time I knew that I wanted to see the city of Hyderabad, India she described as it reminded me of the city of Georgetown, Guyana where I was born and grew up. It was that book that served as the inspiration for my Fulbright Fellowship to India. Later, I would write to Ms. Alexander, a Fulbright Fellow herself, thanking her for penning that novel. And so to hear the Indian-born Alexander reading Audre Lorde at the National Black Writers Conference, a poet who she has found a deep connection to in her own life and work, it was clear to me, that we are not, and never have been, speaking to ourselves—that our work is always making connections and intersections with other communities and cultures beyond our own, and vice versa.
As young writers, the Conference was a pivotal moment for us to honor and thank the writers who fashioned and formed the blueprint for us. So often we say how important it is that the dialogue between generations be nourished and supported—but more often than not, I wonder how much that is actually put into practice. I didn’t question that this time with the National Black Writers Conference. In fact, Dr. Brenda Greene’s leadership and vision to create a space where those exchanges can flourish are to be commended.
My friend Thomas Sayers Ellis captured this culture of gratitude best. He represented our generation of writers well. And he did so with candor and humility in his tribute to Kamau Brathwaite (who I was once privileged to be a student of) at the Conference’s opening ceremony. I’ve borrowed his words below as I found them poignant as they are universal. They mimic a conversation any of us from the younger generation of writers would offer to our literary light posts.
“I am on this stage because I have tried my hand at writing poems and because he has more than tried his hand at writing poems. I am on this stage because his hand, his trying, has managed mine. Because his management has kept my path well-paved and well-lit. Because there’s a difference between accomplished-trying, and in-search-of-trying; and I am on this stage (this page) because I owe him. Thus I am grateful to all that has come through him.”
For the younger generation of writers present at the 10th National Black Writers Conference to stand in the same room, to share the same space, to join in on the same stage as the men and women who’ve inspired, challenged , enlightened, frustrated, pushed, and motivated us as writers and scholars—the moment was invaluable.
Grace Aneiza Ali is the founder and editor of Of Note Magazine, which celebrates people of color in the arts. She is also an Adjunct Professor of Literature at Medgar Evers College.
