Published by  | | | A Q&A with U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo | | As many miles as there are in this country, I would follow Joy Harjo through all of them. Her poems have always seemed like magic to me: words that ground you and give you courage. Poems that trace your loneliness and make it softer, easier to bear. | | | At 69, the three-time U.S. poet laureate has a voice with all the gravity and smoothness of a stone — the kind of voice I would chase to the bottom of a well. I want to see the world as she does: without borders and names, as earth and sky and wind and water, the making of every person, of every poet. In the quiet of the pandemic, Harjo had a prolific year, with a slate of new projects releasing in the coming months. | | I caught up with Harjo on April 6 for National Poetry Month to talk about how she makes sense of the last year, the poems and rituals she's sought out, and why, in times of injustice and discord, poetry can take us where we need to go. | |  | | Anne Branigin: You finished your memoir during this time. From what I understand, part of it addresses the grief of losing your mom. What has this past year taught you about grief? Joy Harjo: I think grief is a lifelong lesson, and certainly we've had to deal with immense collective grief over losing so many all at once. It's more difficult. You become more wary when the deaths appear to be random. And the grief in our tribal nation, the Muscogee (Creek) Nation, we lost so many of our culture bearers. Those are the people that know not just everyday Muscogee (Creek) language, but they know the lyrical, poetic Muscogee (Creek) language. It's been that way for many Native Nations peoples. There is a collective, immense loss. And that's something I don't know that we ever get over grieving. | |  | | That's one part of it. And the next part of it is, okay … I have to keep moving, we have to keep moving. So what do we do with [the grief]? That's where poetry and the arts come in. And that's why poetry has had such a place during this time of social outrage for so many. Poetry can hold contradictions, can hold grief that's too heavy to bear, can hold questions, usually by asking more questions. I don't know that poetry answers anything, but it certainly makes a place for the unanswerable to live in a way that can be even beautiful and satisfactory. | | | | | Three need-to-know stories | | | (María Alconada Brooks/The Lily) | 01.Thirty-five has commonly been cited as the upper threshold of female fertility; that's when "advanced maternal age" kicks in. But a new study suggests the reproductive window for people in the United States has increased over the past six decades. Some OB/GYNs warned against misinterpreting the study to mean that those in their mid- to late 30s have fewer fertility issues than previously thought. 02.The gunman who carried out a massacre at a FedEx sorting facility, killing eight people before shooting himself, was a 19-year-old former employee who had had a shotgun seized by authorities last year, Indianapolis police said Friday. The mass shooting left several others injured. It was the sixth public mass shooting in the United States in five weeks. Read more about the lives of the victims, four of whom were Indian immigrants from Indianapolis's close-knit Sikh community. 03.Last week, President Biden issued the first White House proclamation recognizing Black Maternal Health Week. Here are six other pieces of news you may have missed from the fourth annual BMHW, which focuses on issues of reproductive justice and the need to eliminate the maternal mortality crisis. | | | | | | | A story to make you smile | | | (Hilary Scheinuk/The Advocate) | | Jessie Hamilton worked as a cook at a fraternity house at Louisiana State University for 14 years. While preparing meals for the members of Phi Gamma Delta, she was widely known to lend an ear when one of the young men needed her advice or care, writes Sydney Page in The Washington Post. "She was truly like a mother to us," said Andrew Fusaiotti, 52, who attended LSU in the late 1980s. "She was always looking out for us." More than 30 years later, Fusaiotti and his fraternity brothers returned the favor after learning Hamilton was working two jobs because she couldn't afford to retire. On April 3, just before her 74th birthday, a group of them presented Hamilton with a gift of $51,765 to cover the outstanding balance of her mortgage — and then some — so she could finally retire. Hamilton was in disbelief, she said. "They used to tell me they loved me, and now, they've proved it." | | | | | But before we part, some recs | | Neema Roshania PatelEditor, The LilyWhat I'm listening to:The "This is Uncomfortable" podcast, hosted by Reema Khrais. It's about the unexpected way money affects our relationships and identities. The most recent episode on multilevel marking schemes is fascinating. What I'm perfecting:My scoring patterns on the top of sourdough loaves. I'm following video tutorials from Breadtopia and hoping for the best. Either way, I have a delicious loaf at the end of it all. What I'm reading:I just finished "A Burning," by Megha Majumdar, which tracks three characters in the aftermath of a terrorist attack at a train station in Kolkata. Next up: "The Last Story of Mina Lee," a mother-daughter tale by Nancy Jooyoun Kim. Send me your book recs. | | | | |
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