Of Writing and Changing the World
Writing is a tool for me. I write when I am angry, sad, frightened, frustrated, confused.
Writing is therapeutic for me (like getting my nails done or cooking) and produces a catharsis that helps me process my emotions and thoughts, but it has never changed the world (in the grand scheme of things; of ending the war in Syria, of fighting Boko Haram, of leveling the mountain that is poverty).
I find that writing has only ever helped me. When I have come across and enjoyed poems by the likes of Lucille Clifton, Maya Angelou, Langston Hughes, Warsan Shire, Nikki Giovanni; I have partaken in the catharsis their works elicit and have shared in the experience - of lovers lost, of the pathology of society, of the black man as demon, of women left to rot in relationships they bled for - but, the poems have never changed the world.
What I mean by this is; the world is ablaze and a poem has never put out the fire. Hopefuls will argue with me; that the pen is more powerful than the sword, but when did a poem ever stop a suicide bomber from walking into a crowded café in Jerusalem or in Paris or in Maidugri and blowing him/herself up? When did a poem ever rescue the thousands of Nigerian women kidnapped by Boko Haram, the Yazidi and Kurdish women held captive by the Islamic State? When did poetry tell private firms to stop funding terrorists; that the way to get what they want is not by blowing up every city on the face of the earth? When did poetry reduce the amount of unarmed black men shot in the back by police? What has my poetry ever done?
So I write for myself and for people who might come across my work and see themselves or their experiences in it; I write for my mental wellbeing, I write to reach out, to share - but will my writing ever change the world? I doubt it. It's a hopeless thing to feel, but it is nonetheless what is real to me.
Writing is therapeutic for me (like getting my nails done or cooking) and produces a catharsis that helps me process my emotions and thoughts, but it has never changed the world (in the grand scheme of things; of ending the war in Syria, of fighting Boko Haram, of leveling the mountain that is poverty).
I find that writing has only ever helped me. When I have come across and enjoyed poems by the likes of Lucille Clifton, Maya Angelou, Langston Hughes, Warsan Shire, Nikki Giovanni; I have partaken in the catharsis their works elicit and have shared in the experience - of lovers lost, of the pathology of society, of the black man as demon, of women left to rot in relationships they bled for - but, the poems have never changed the world.
What I mean by this is; the world is ablaze and a poem has never put out the fire. Hopefuls will argue with me; that the pen is more powerful than the sword, but when did a poem ever stop a suicide bomber from walking into a crowded café in Jerusalem or in Paris or in Maidugri and blowing him/herself up? When did a poem ever rescue the thousands of Nigerian women kidnapped by Boko Haram, the Yazidi and Kurdish women held captive by the Islamic State? When did poetry tell private firms to stop funding terrorists; that the way to get what they want is not by blowing up every city on the face of the earth? When did poetry reduce the amount of unarmed black men shot in the back by police? What has my poetry ever done?
So I write for myself and for people who might come across my work and see themselves or their experiences in it; I write for my mental wellbeing, I write to reach out, to share - but will my writing ever change the world? I doubt it. It's a hopeless thing to feel, but it is nonetheless what is real to me.
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