James Mercer Langston Hughes (February 1, 1901 – May 22, 1967) was an American poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, and columnist from Joplin, Missouri.
One of the earliest innovators of the literary art form called jazz poetry, Hughes is best known as a leader of the Harlem Renaissance. He famously wrote about the period that "the Negro was in vogue", which was later paraphrased as "when Harlem was in vogue."
Growing up in a series of Midwestern towns, Hughes became a prolific writer at an early age. He moved to New York City as a young man, where he made his career. He graduated from high school in Cleveland, Ohio, and soon began studies at Columbia University in New York City. Although he dropped out, he gained notice from New York publishers, first in The Crisis magazine, and then from book publishers and became known in the creative community in Harlem.
He eventually graduated from Lincoln University. In addition to poetry, Hughes wrote plays, and short stories. He also published several non-fiction works. From 1942 to 1962, as the civil rights movement was gaining traction, he wrote an in-depth weekly column in a leading black newspaper, The Chicago Defender.
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Dreams
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Olivia's thoughts:
- It's saying that without dreams that life is sad and empty. Dreams are what makes you want to do things.
- It definitely makes me think of a bird with a broken wing. The bird would feel sad and hurt. Vulnerable.
- A barren field could be an empty field in the middle of winter...kind of like what we see now. Looking at the field, it feels cold,
- When there is corn, it is full of life and potential.
- If the bird has no one there to help it, it will most likely die. If I don't have someone to help me with my dream, it most likely would die too.
- I like this poem.
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Still Here
I been scarred and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,
Looks like between 'em they done
Tried to make me
Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care!
I'm still here!
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,
Looks like between 'em they done
Tried to make me
Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care!
I'm still here!
Olivia's thoughts:
- I feel like it is someone who has been depressed or bullied to the point of feeling depressed.
- The whole message is that despite all of that, they are still there or here. They are resilient.
- It did feel like a poem about racism.
- The people who are being racist to him, they are trying to stop him from laughing, loving, and living. They don't want him in that community. But, he's not going to listen to them...he's going to keep going.
- He is head-strong, stubborn, and courageous.
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Mother to Son
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now-
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now-
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
Olivia's thoughts:
- Definitely talking about the hardships that she has faced in her life. She's telling him that this is part of life and you have to push through it, and there will be spots where things go well.
- Telling him no matter what - keep going....keep pushing forward.
- She doesn't stop fighting - I didn't stop fighting or am not going to stop fighting - so neither should you.
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Harlem
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Olivia's thoughts:
- A dream that you have to postpone feels like weight - it's always going to be there in the back of your mind and you are not going to forget it.
- Depending on how big the dream is, it could be like any one of those situations.
- A dream that is deferred would fester...it's not going to let you forget it's there.
- All of the analogies seem to be right, except the sugary one. That reminded me of making maple sugar candies.
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I, Too
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed—
Olivia's thoughts:
- Definitely again talking about race and how the blacks weren't allowed to eat with white people. They were sent away.
- It talks about one day they won't do it...they will all be able to sit together.
- The mood is sad...a little darker sad...but more sad, I think.
- He's dreaming about the day that his people and the other people can sit together as one and respect one another.
- I like the shorter poems that he does.
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The Negro Speaks of Rivers
I've known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
Olivia's thoughts:
- Again, this is about race. Kind of reminds me of how the Underground Railroad and how they would cross rivers to stop the scent so the dogs wouldn't be able to track them anymore.
- Talks like he is still in Africa, and then you hear about the part with Abraham Lincoln and you know that he is in the United States.
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