How Diverse Verse Came About

Last year, when the pandemic broke out, I was solo parenting… so I had a bit of time to do bit of “soul searching” … and I thought about how, in the field of literature, there is so little one can control in terms of career. It feels as if you’re captain of a ship you built but can’t control. Or at least, maybe you’re at the helm at the beginning of the journey, but pretty soon, you have to leave the ship rudderless and hope for the best. It’s the tides, the swell, the ocean that will control the journey - and there’s no telling where your ship might go. You can’t chart its course. At all.

I also thought about all that is larger than my ship, or ships at this point, seeing that I have poems and books. I thought about how much diversity means and has meant to me ever since I left the shores of India on my own at 19.

Diversity in oceanography and the STEM fields was something I strove for, and later, in my own way, I fought for it in literature - and like to think I’ve supported it over the years. But there is so much more all of us can do.

During the pandemic, my child and I took a long walk every day. I’d recite poems I’d learned by heart. Some were poems by Indian poets like Nissim Ezekiel. Others were British poets whose work was revered by my English teachers in India, when I was growing up. I thought about how I’d met American poets much later. And BIPOC American poets much, much later. And how much their words and work resonated with me.

The phrase Diverse Verse popped into my head. There was more to that phrase, I could feel it. I wrote a tweet or two with hashtag.

At an event I was invited to speak at months later, by Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell, I was reminded of how Tamil literature and Tamil poetry had influenced me. Again, I thought about diversity and poetry.

A seed of an idea was born in my mind. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had a website - a resource celebrating BIPOC poets and diverse poetic voices?

The idea stayed dormant for a while. I started reaching out, seeing how others felt about it. I received enthusiastic responses from Lisa Stringfellow, Aida Salazar, Janet Wong, Sylvia Vardell, Margarita Engle and Rene Saldana Jr. Blessings from Nikki Grimes who warned “that’s quite an undertaking.” I slowly started to work on the padlet.

In my head, this was a group undertaking. I didn’t feel ready to lead.

One night, I dreamed I was back in India. I was a little girl, writing in my notebook. About five years old. Each word was an effort to write. I remember the ruled paper. The lead pencil. On the right, was this poem:

Drip, drop, drip, drop: The rain’s spell.

Is it going fast or slow? I really can’t tell.

Here I am, waiting, for a raindrop to fall.

And to see if it’s big or small.

On the left hand side was this poem:

On the mountain, under a blanket of snow,

snowballs are waiting for me. Sun glows.

Not brilliant - but I could see the words as I’d written them. My dream went back further. I was about 3 years old. I saw a little puppet show I’d done for my mother, with my “dressing dolls” as we called them. I remember singing songs about each doll’s dresses. Yes, in English. My mom wrote my poems down and has told me the story so who knows how much of this is my own memory. I remember the dolls, though, and the black and gold sari that was my favorite. The doll wearing it, sang:

My dress is black,

Black of the gleaming sky

Behind the stars.

Next morning, I woke up, and it was as if the seed that had lain dormant had suddenly burst its shell and started growing. I started working on the website. I did more work on the padlet.

I started reaching out to poets who might be interested in coming together as a team, somewhat haphazardly. But people I felt I could trust deeply. As of the time of writing, more or less, the “active” team includes (in addition to Aida Salazar, Lisa Stringfellow, Rene Saldana Jr. and Janet Wong whom I mentioned above), Ari Tison, Ruth Behar, Edna Hoku Moran, Ray Anthony Sheppard, Reem Faruqui, Anindita Basu Sempere, and maybe Hope Anita Smith.

“Why do we poets spend time on stuff like this?” My Rene asked, and he answered his own question with “Because readers matter most.” Kari Anne sent me a link to news article about how, “In Burma, they have come for the poets,” saying it felt pertinent to our discussion and I agree. Sometimes, given all that is going on - in my life, with my health, and in the world at large, with all the violence and trauma, I wonder, why am I a writer? What does poetry even mean in the context of so much suffering and violence? I am not sure. But somehow, somewhere inside, I believe in the power of words.

And, because in India, when we begin a venture we ask for our elder’s blessings, (and some traditions go deep even though I’m a citizen of the United States now), I started to ask for blessings from a few poets who have paved the path for us, and whom I have the honor to know (and have emails for) in addition to Nikki Grimes and Margarita Engle - and I received encouraging and supportive emails that moved me to tears from Jacqueline Woodson, Joe Bruchac, Carole Boston Weatherford; and others who have had experience with diversity and/or are trusted friends: Stacey Lee, Gbemi (Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich), Traci Sorell, Tracey Baptiste, Ellen Oh, Cynthia Leitich Smith, Mitali Pekins, Uma Krishnaswami, Floyd Cooper. As of the time of writing this, I haven’t heard back from Linda Sue Park, Grace Lin, Naomi Shihab Nye, Bobbie Coombs, CP Curtis, Julia Erin Torres, Laura Jimenez, Edith Campbell and Laura Pegram, but I hope and trust I have their goodwill, too - and I’m assuming they have overflowing inboxes. I’m sure I’m missing the names of a few people to whom I reached out - but these are at least a few of those with whom I’ve been in discussion. I started also reaching out to some educators I know all of whom responded with enthusiasm and kindness.

Jackie’s email is one I read over and over and over. Along with all the kind emails I received, I felt the strength to anchor this initiative. And yet anchor doesn’t seem the most appropriate metaphor, though I like the oceanographic aspect of that word.

Perhaps a better metaphor for how I view my part in this effort is as the first root and first shoot reaching out from the seed. I hope I can stay rooted in the desire to create a positive space for BIPOC poets in particular and for diverse poets in general, and to create a resource for educators, librarians, teachers, and to create a nurturing community for diverse poets of the future. I hope I can center myself as this effort moves into the public arena - always immensely frightening and hard, especially for me. But I hope that from this root, others will be able to branch out and grow and flower.

What are my hopes for the future? I have so many ideas.
1. A scholarship to encourage a diverse poet (this is actually happening, thanks to the Highlights Foundation, which immediately volunteered to support us with a scholarship for a poetry workshop this fall).

2. A day when we interact with young poets. Perhaps it will happen in a small way this year with the launch - but maybe it could be an annual event, wherein teachers have their kids write poems and some poets from our diverse collective reach out to encourage them and respond to them (or showcase a few in our blog post)…something along the lines of Sarah J Donovan’s Ethical ELA #VerseLove effort.

3. A community that is positive and supportive - as a whole and also, perhaps, with the ability to split into groups as needed, if we grow (so we have safe spaces for BIPOC poets, for LGBTQIA2+ poets to gather separately, too, while being part of a larger community).

4. Some way or ways to include educators in this effort - especially BIPOC and diverse educators who love teaching poetry.

5. And of course, resources for readers and teachers and librarians that provide ideas on bringing poems from diverse voices into classrooms. We’ve started it, and that makes me so happy. I hope this website, and the padlet and pinterest page will grow over time.