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Poetry Slam at the White House
President and Mrs. Obama hosted an evening of poetry, music and spoken word at the White House last Tuesday evening, essentially a poetry slam organized by Deputy Social Secretary Ebs Burnough. The highlight of the evening was a young poet from the south side of Chicago named Maya Del Valle, who blew everyone away with a poem she wrote just for the evening: "a faith like yours" (printed below).
The White House reception began at 7 p.m. "We're in trouble," joked one older guest as she walked into the entrance hall and saw it packed with very young, very diverse and very hip looking people. It turned out to be a magical. At 8 p.m., guests were ushered into the East Room, which had been transformed into an elegant cafe with dim lights, votive candles and flowers on the small skirted tables. Hors d"oeuvres were served on tiny individual platters.
After everyone had been seated, Vice President and Mrs. Biden were announced. Then the Obama girls, Sacha and Malia, wearing sweaters and tights and accompanied by their grandmother, came in and took their places at the center table. Finally, President and Mrs. Obama entered the room to lively clapping and cheering from the mostly young audience. Mrs. Obama wore cut-off white silk pants, glittery heels and an off-one-shoulder sleeveless, multicolored, sequined and beaded top.
After the performances were over and as the Obamas were leaving, the President turned to our table to say goodnight. My husband, Ben Bradlee, who was a friend of President and Mrs. Kennedy, remarked that he had been to the White House many times and had never seen anything like that in the East Room. "I wonder what they would have thought, "he said to Obama. "They would have done the same thing, " the President replied.
a faith like yoursgrandmother our common thread began in my mama's womb
spun my fetus like a record in her cipher
sampled your stubborn and mixed in her fathers posture
our connection is full circle
abuela you bearer of children
you seer of spirits
you are truly miraculous
fingers grasping the whispers of litanies and white tablecloths
your melody is captured
in the spilled candle wax of my skinmy tongue a broken needle scratching through the grooves of lost wisdom
trying to find a faith that beats like yours
what secrets do your bones hold?
what pattern does your dust settle into when I beat these drums
inside my ribs ?
what color was the soil in your grandmothers garden ?grandma how did you pray?
did you store the memory of your creator in strands of hair tucked into scented soap boxes or placentas buried under avocado trees?
what reservoir did you pull your faith from?
was it anything like this gumbo
this sancocho
this remix of rituals and chants sampled from muscle memory and spirits that visit my dreams that I struggle to stir into discipline
to honor the unseen
with these shells this sage these rudraksha and rosary beads
these white candles crystals statues
this sweet water honey rum and sweetgrassabuela how did you pray before someone told you who your god should be?
how did you hold the earth in your hands and thank her for its fecundity
did the sea wash away your sadness
how did you humble yourself before your architect
did your lower yourself to your knees
or rock to the rhythm of ocean waves like I do
grandma how did you pray ?some say faith is for the weak or small minded
but I search for your faith everywhere
I need it to reassemble myself whole from these shards of Chicago ice and island breezes so I can rewrite the songs of your silence and pain
your lonely fists broken toothed smile and burdens
into a medley of mantraswish you could have shown me it's shape
but I know it is in every sacred breath
in the shadows of trees you visit me in
in the flicker of flames I stare into searching for what's divine
and I know my body is the instrument my maker uses to rearrange the broken chords of your history into a new symphony for my unborn children's feet to dance to
and I see you grandmother
gathering with your sistren
to chant the names of the living and the dead and remind us all
that whether gathered in marble temples
around midnight fires or block party speakers
we have always raised our hands to the sky wanting to touch the invisible force that holds these cells together into a fragile mass
we be sound to beat to bass to bone to flesh
we be sound to beat to bass to bone to flesh
we are truly miraculous
-- Mayda del Valle 2009
By
Sally Quinn
|
May 15, 2009; 12:52 PM ET
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Posted by: gsross | May 19, 2009 8:15 PM
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"We have other things going on in our country, why do they have so many events?"
Cause Obama isn't trying to beat Bush's record for most vacation days ever taken by a President?
"Why does it seem they are always tryng to hard and looking lke they feel they need people to see how smart and well rounded they are."
The cultural life of the nation should involve more than conservative prayer meetings, occasional cutting of brush for the press corps, golf, and troop reviews. (not to mention, it turns out, Rumsfeld mixing them together with the Iraq war briefings)
I know it's been a while, but this is part of the job. What they 'need to show' is that there's in fact still some cultural and intellectual life left in our nation.
Posted by: Paganplace | May 18, 2009 11:47 AM
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Can we please stop with all the Obama coverage, I think it overkill, I especially find it strange that the girls were escorted by their grandmother and so dressed down. What happened to Mom-In=Chief? because word haas it that the grandmother always has the girls and parading them out at a party is just tacky on her part as mom. We have other things going on in our country, why do they have so many events? Why does it seem they are always tryng to hard and looking lke they feel they need people to see how smart and well rounded they are.
Posted by: gdenise1 | May 18, 2009 5:43 AM
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why do i wish i had a pair of little square sunglasses to perch on the end of my nose and why am i snapping my fingers to the rhythm of the prose.. lol very nice to see intellect and expression and dee-verse-city have returned.
Posted by: artistkvip1 | May 18, 2009 5:34 AM
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I am delighted with the kinds of events that President and Mrs. Obama either host or attend. I particularly like the poetry jam and the "Women Celebs Visit Schools Day" (don't recall the actual title) that Michelle Obama had organized. Good works and good times.