Nikki Giovanni passed away this week, and we have lost an incredible poet, an icon, and an inspiration. I first read her poetry when I was ten, thanks to a bizarre but well intentioned fifth grade teacher who smoked a pipe at the church across from school while we were out at recess. I’m sharing a small selection of her work for you to consume this week.
Here’s an excerpt of ‘My House’ — read the full thing, it’s dazzling:
i mean it’s my house
and i want to fry pork chops
and bake sweet potatoes
and call them yams
cause i run the kitchen
and i can stand the heat
Relatedly, Giovanni was a phenomenal cook. She gave the New York Times a ‘non-recipe recipe’ for fried chicken several years ago, and it sounds divine:
I’m a Southern cook so I use whatever is around. Cut the chicken up or if you are lucky and working purchase wings. There is no such thing as too much butter. A half stick is usually good, though. Put a couple of cloves of garlic in the skillet to let them simmer. I like to rub the wings with ginger but I forgot to tell you a shake or two of nutmeg really helps. If summer, get your rosemary from the garden or your tarragon or whatever is green growing. Do not roll a lot of flour on them. Just enough to cover then shake off. Do not batter them. You are not, after all, a chef trying to stretch your money.
She loved garlic, which found its way into poems like “Werewolf Avoidance,”
Poets should be strong
In our emotions
And our words that might make us
difficult to live with but I do believe
easier to love
Poet is garlic
Not for everyone
But those who take it
Never get caught
By werewolves
Giovanni was also a professor at Virginia Tech. Here’s a lesser known detail about her time there: she happened to teach the student who went on to commit a massacre of his fellow students on campus — months prior to the university shooting, she reported him to counseling and police. The school services didn’t take disciplinary action because he didn’t make a direct threat. In the wake of the tragedy, Giovanni took the stage to give an address that roused students into a standing ovation. Here’s one excerpt from it:
We do not understand this tragedy. We know we did nothing to deserve it, but neither does a child in Africa dying of AIDS, neither do the invisible children walking the night away to avoid being captured by the rogue army, neither does the baby elephant watching his community being devastated for ivory, neither does the Mexican child looking for fresh water, neither does the Appalachian infant killed in the middle of the night in his crib in the home his father built with his own hands, being run over by a boulder because the land was destabilized. No one deserves a tragedy.
She broached the topic in an NPR interview she did back in 2013, which still feels relevant:
But, you know - I hate to say it - but you pick up the paper everyday and there's some level of tragedy of gun violence. I don't know what it takes to make people understand guns are not a good idea. This is not the frontier anymore. We're not, you know, riding on our ponies across the Wild West, you know, shooting coyotes or something crazy.
This is a modern world, and we have to get along with each other. We have to stop this killing. It's just not a good idea. Killing isn't a creation. Killing is a lack of creation. It's a lack of imagination. It's a lack of understanding who you are and your place in the world. Life is an interesting and a good idea. Making love is a good idea. Good food is a good idea. Good wine is a good idea. And so these are the things we participate in. And these are the things that we create. But, you know, your regular killing and stuff, that's ridiculous.
50 years ago, here she is, prescient as ever:
Last but not least, here’s an interview she did on rest and care, which is full of gems on chosen family, friendship, reading, and even Tom Brady. If you’ll read one of the longer pieces I’ve linked to here, I hope it might be this one, which ends at this perfect point:
We’re back to what you asked—Where do you go to rest? Well, you should have some friends that you can go to. Friends that you can laugh with. Friends who are not going to laugh at you, who are going to be a part of you, who are not going to use you.
Am I making sense? That’s really all I know about care and love. You have to allow people to care for you. You need care, but you have to allow people to care. It goes both ways. I care for you, but you have to allow me. It is actually a very similar thing with love. You have to love me. And I, well, I have to let you love me.
Life is interesting and a good idea. See you on Friday.
Roya
way to capture such a range of goodness 💛 loved this so much