Dear Assétou Xango 2021

From Anjali, Grade 9

Dear Assétou Xango,

My name is Anjali, and I’m a ninth grader living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. When I was 5 or 6 years old, my Grandfather told me many stories, tales of Indian culture, of Birbal’s sharp wit and Akbar’s magnificent court. I was enthralled by these stories that taught me many life lessons and gave me an insight into the culture of my parents’ homeland. Hearing you recite “Terpsichore” with such passion, grace, and confidence reminded me of the joy I felt as I listened to him narrate these tales. I was instantly drawn to the magic of the words you wove together. After hearing “Terpsichore,” I listened to more of your poems, including “Eve,” “Give Your Daughters Difficult Names” (this one made me feel proud of my hard-to-pronounce name), and “Black Womxn Version 2”. I admire the way you use your poetry to spread a positive message of acceptance and inclusivity.

“Terpsichore” was particularly interesting to me because it’s like a story, a disclosure of truth, and a poem all wrapped in one. As an avid reader of Greek myths, I was familiar with the Sirens at a very basic level, however, I had always thought of them as an obstacle that Greek heroes had to overcome in their quests. It never occurred to me that it could be the other way around- that Terpsichore’s children “flee their home/ convene in isolation,/ shield themselves with bladed rocks” because the heroes “are the dangerous ones.”

One of the lines that stood out to me in your poem, was “What’s it like to be the minor character/ in every story?” This particular line resonated with me especially, because even in pop culture today, females are often portrayed as secondary characters; they are placed in the story to accentuate the heroism of the male leads, rather than to prove their own mettle. I love how you gave the Sirens and their mother Terpsichore their own voice in this poem, so that they could finally reclaim the identity that was denied to them in the original Greek myths. I’m an extremely shy person, so I often have a difficult time voicing my thoughts aloud. Your poem taught me how important it is to use your voice to express yourself instead of letting others define you. Since the Sirens couldn’t express themselves to the readers, their identity was reduced to that of a mere obstacle for heroes like Jason and Odysseus to surpass.

The double reference you made in the line “Sirens may save your life/ or end it” was also really clever. It reminded me of how most people fall somewhere in the gray zone between “good” and “bad”. I’ve always liked characters who belong deep in the gray zone, like the Sirens, because I find them the most relatable.

Another reason I love this poem is because it subtly delved into the parent-child relationship. Many Greek myths portray the Sirens as “villains,” in the story, and mention very little about (or outright omit) their mother. But in your poem, the Sirens’ mother Terpsichore understands them and defends her daughters from those who insult them. This poem is direct proof of Terpsichore’s love for her children. I think this adds a greater degree of realism to both the Sirens and Terpsichore, because it acknowledges a part of their identity that is often ignored. It also reminds me of my own mother, who is a strong, kind, and loving woman, just like Terpsichore from the poem.

Lastly, I have a few questions about “Terpsichore” and your writing process:

Why did you choose to write this poem from Terpsichore’s perspective?

How did you develop such a strong, realistic voice for Terpsichore when writing the poem? What strategies and techniques do you use when writing poems?

With 28 lines of poetry, you left a positive impact in the life of a shy, unassuming, book-obsessed girl from Wisconsin. Thank you so much for giving us “Terpsichore.”

Sincerely,

Anjali

Dear Anjali,

Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of reading your thoughts in response to my poem Terpsichore.

Everything you said was in complete alignment with the purpose of the poem, but I was particularly thrilled you caught the double entendre in the line “Sirens will save your life or end it. You are the only one who has noticed this, which gives me much joy; it was hidden in plain sight. It is a bit of divergence from the rest of the piece in which Sirens are unadulteratedly the story's heroines. It calls to the sirens of police cars; they save some lives and end others are ended. It was incredible to see your inept ability to catch the depth of that storytelling. Clearly, this is due to your love of reading.

I also love the catch around so many stories, not mentioning mothers. It is another way in which the contribution of womyn is left out of history. I introduce the element of the parent-child bond where it was not mentioned (in Homer’s Odyssey) because it humanizes the Sirens the way they deserve to be seen. The Sirens were not given this dimension because it was Homer’s story. Homer just so happens to be the white male role that seems to be the center of every story American culture calls a “classic.” I enjoyed rewriting this story from the perspective of a female character because that alone challenges the narrative so often pushed.

Anjali, you mentioned that you are shy and don’t often speak your mind. I think that is okay. I just want you to know that you have a brilliant mind and a needed perspective. Your letter was much more insightful than most I’ve read which tells me that you have a rich inner world, one that can help shape the outer world into a better place. That doesn’t necessarily mean you have to speak. You are a great writer and can choose that path or any other one you desire. I just want to encourage you to share your perspective in whatever way feels natural to you because the world needs it.

Your letter was a breath of fresh air and has enhanced my existence. I hope you will not keep that gift to yourself.

Sincerest gratitude,

Assétou Xango

From Erika, Grade 9

Dear Assétou Xango,

I would like to start off by introducing myself. My name is Erika and I am a fifteen year old student who attends University School of Milwaukee in the ninth grade. I have grown up in a Christian family with my older sister and brother, continuously moving schools throughout my life.

I am not going to lie, when starting this letter I really struggled. Right away, I was inspired to write a whole book response but looking back at what I had written, I had basically confessed my whole life story in what was supposed to be a short letter responding to your poetry. I knew it was ridiculous and started over but that left me really struggling. How am I supposed to talk about such a deep and important topic in my life in such a lighthearted, not-too-personal matter? The truth is this poem hit deep and there are a million things I could say to you but that’s not responding to your poem really, it’s more of a diary entry. I know so many people in my life that this poem would touch just like it did for me. What amazes me however, is the courage to put it all out. I was ready to confess struggles which I don’t usually ever talk about in a letter which I was sending to someone I had never met before because of the way your words reached me, like we had shared a common experience and that you had found strength because of it. How did you do it? How did you find the words to sum up both the strength that comes from seeing through to the real problem, yet the fear women face everyday because of it?

When reading your poem “Terpsichore” it hit close to home in a way that most young women could understand but also on a personable level. Your use of “Sirens” drew me in as it perfectly described the way society taught young girls: the school dress codes which were designed because we were the problem, the terms so often thrown around because we asked for it, and the way that any attention received is our own fault. I have found my confidence and come to understand that dressing the way in which makes me feel happy or comfortable does not put the responsibility of a man's actions on myself simply because I chose to look like that recently, however it wouldn’t have been possible to see through the utterly ignorant teachings in my life without my sister. She showed me that loving myself or showing my shoulders does not mean I deserve to fear being alone in public but how did you overcome the idea that it was always our fault as women? Was there someone or some experience in your life?

Your poem is strong and captures perfectly the problem that young girls are still taught today. It touches me deeply to remember that even I at one point had internally shamed girls for wearing what I could not because “it was asking for it”. Instead of teaching boys to control themselves, girls have been taught to not give boys any reason to even look at them, however how many young girls need to feel afraid and ashamed in society before we learn who to educate? I find your poem extremely passionate and inspiring to see you put out a hard truth with such power.

Yours truly,

Erika

Dear Erika,

It was so lovely to read your words in response to the poem Terpsichore. When reading other letters, I could feel the “assignment” aspect of the writing. I feel the presence of the teacher prescribing what to write and how to construct it. With you, that aspect was non-existent. I felt like I was reading your heart. I felt like I was reading your journal entry, and I LOVED it!

To answer your question, “How did you do it? How did you find the words to sum up both the strength that comes from seeing through to the real problem, yet the fear women face everyday because of it?” First, I am flattered by the question. Second, because I live it, it is what I feel. In the face of the adversity of being womxn, of being queer, of standing out, that grants me freedom. I have traveled the world only to find that I am othered in every corner of it. There are very few places where I am assumed to belong and even fewer where I do. When the whole world rejects you, targets you, defames you, any act of kindness is healing. Because I can assume that I will not be accepted, I spend less time trying to be and more time discovering who I am. That is as freeing as it is heartbreaking. Seeing the problem, accepting the magnitude of it, has a strange comfort.

It sounds as if you are discovering this freedom yourself. Don’t we give each other permission? Your sister, standing in her power and encouraging you to do the same, permitted you to step into yourself. My journey has been similar. My mother is a no-nonsense woman who encourages me to be fully myself. The other poets in my life exhibit a similar command and teach me what it looks like. But I think it is vital for you to know, none of us are without insecurity. The toxic culture of this world touches all of us. The goal is not to be completely free of shame or fear but to embrace every part of the journey. If you find yourself battling these things, it does not mean that you are less liberated than your sister or me; it means you are human. You are still in connection with the world, shaping it as it shapes you. It means you are alive—what a glorious thing.

Please continue to share your voice and your passion. It has touched my heart, and I know it will touch others.

Thank you for sharing your words with me.

Best,

Assétou Xango

From Gabriela, Grade 9

Dear Poet Laureate Fellow Xango:

I felt as though I had the ability to see myself and all of society’s young women through your poem ̈Terpsichore ̈. Which I think in most ways is unfortunate, still I want to thank you for opening my eyes. I was able to see myself eventually being in the mother’s position. Standing up for my daughter as she perseveres or cowards in a world full of sexism and misogyny. I also see myself and many other girls as the daughter. Hiding away from a world full of men who victimize themselves and villainize others for their lack of control.

Reading through your work I was consumed by the imagery the words created in my mind. The line ̈they curl their lips/ & snark around the syllables ̈(Xango) instantly captivated me. I was really intrigued by the condescending tone and also found myself wanting to read more about the siren’s struggles. After watching your video the line ̈Sirens may save your life/ or end it/ you will not know which/ until the morning comes ̈(Xango) stood out to me as well. I really appreciated the power that the line held. As well as the suspense it created by making the result of life or death more of a question that only the sirens can answer.

I also love how the entirety of the poem made me maintain a sense of curiosity. Who is the speaker talking to? What is the true meaning of siren in the poem? I have never been super into Greek mythology but I enjoyed what I assume is the mother and daughter relationship between Tersphine and the sirens. I was wondering if writing the poem was challenging. Was it an emotional experience? I ask this because I thought that your reading of the piece was very raw. Did it come to you all at once or was the idea more gradually built up through different circumstances? Do you see yourself more as Tersphine or the sirens? Do you think that the sirens will or should come out of hiding and embrace their true nature?

Despite all the unfortunate truth that I saw in your poem I also saw the strength that the mother figure had. I would like to say thank you for showing me that strength. The strength to stand strong despite it all. Thank you for putting into words what I see every day but can not say. Your poem was beautiful and inspiring. I doubt will forget Tersiphone as I put my guard up and pull my shirt down over my shorts walking through the street.

All the best,

Gabriela

Dear Gabriela,

Thank you so much for the time you took to read and respond to my poetry. This experience enlivens my work in many ways, and I am grateful to you.

I find your distinction between the Sirens and Terpsichore interesting. You seem to assign the Sirens the role of young daughters who have not figured things out, while Terpsichore is the mother who has the experience needed to defend the youth. You mention that you feel like the former and hope to one day to be the latter. To answer your question about which one I am, I am indeed both. The fear you describe, the cowering from the men, and misogyny of this world are things I still experience daily. However, it is essential to note that courage requires fear; bravery does not exist without it.

It seems from your letter that you see the Sirens as weak or helpless, at least passive in their retreat? I cannot agree with this notion. The bonding of siblinghood the Sirens created, the place have they made for themselves that centers around their joy and safety, is a courageous act. In my imagining, they sing because they are happy; they are free. I hold more sympathy and, honestly, sadness for Terpsichore as she still li feels the need to defend her honor and the honor of her youth. Yet her role is needed.

I am every character within the story. I have found the land of the Sirens within myself. One in which I dance and sing and revel in my queerness, my womanhood. I have created small communities where this is possible, comprised of people who celebrate and grieve with me. Once my cup is filled, I go out and defend the way Terpsichore does in the poem. I go and hold a mirror to the world and show them, “See, where you hurt where you hurt.” I am every character in the story. And if you wish to be, so are you.

Thank you for the discussion. You are a bright and powerful young spirit, and I encourage you to embrace all that is within you. I hope we meet again.

Sincerely,

Assétou Xango

From Jake, Grade 12

Dear Assétou Xango:

I am Jake, a student at Bishop Kenny High School. I read your poem this evening and was left with many thought-provoking ideas about the nature of mythological monsters and about the treatment of women. Ever since I was a child, I always wanted to read stories written from the perspective of the villains that posed a threat to the brave, dashing, monster-slashing heroes. Your poem left me with the impression that monsters don’t originate from any external, evil force, but that they are instead people who are made out to be monsters by other people themselves. I believe the poem implied that the sirens aren’t the “dangerous creatures” they’re made out to be, but rather people who are just portrayed in an awful light. Even the speaker, who I gathered to be the titular Terpsichore, isn’t a monster; She is simply a mother who loves her daughters and is looking out for them, defending them until the end. The idea that Terpsichore’s daughters were forced from their homes because they were threatened by human ignorance is a powerfully universal idea that resonated with me and what I’ve learned through following social justice movements. This idea extends not only to all minorities, but women in particular. It surprises me that even after centuries of progress there still exists that prejudice inside of men that refuses to see a woman as anything but a seductress or a trophy. But her daughters, and women too, are not just vulnerable. As you smartly wrote: “Sirens may save your life or end it”. Despite their plight, women are strong and willing to defend themselves when threatened.

The poem uses figures from Greek mythology, such as the muse Terpsichore and the sirens. I was wondering why you chose the perspective of a mythological figure in particular? Did something influence the allusion to Greek mythos? Additionally, I was a bit confused on who exactly was asking the question in the third stanza. Is it Terpsichore addressing those who judged her daughters, or is the speaker those judging her daughters addressing Terpsichore? Thank you for writing such an interesting piece of poetry. I never got tired of re-reading it, and I enjoyed delving into your rich verses to discover the meaning.

Sincerely,

Jake

Dear Jake,

I was delighted to receive your letter; you are very insightful, and I was grateful to be privy to your thoughts on my writing.

I, too, am a lover of complex “villains.” When I consume stories of any kind, I want to know why the antagonist does what they do. If they don’t have a good reason that makes sense to them and their backstory, I find the entire tale flat and untrue. I think you are right; there are no monsters, just creatures we have not taken the time to understand.

It makes me curious. Who are the demons in your life? Who are your enemies? I think it’s harder to humanize those we feel have wronged us than it is to see fictional characters as complicated individuals.

This poem was commissioned. Someone else chose the direction of Greek Mythology and asked me to pick one of the 9 Muses. I wrote it alongside 5 other poets, who each chose another of the Muses. If you look through my body of work, you will find that I often select mythological female characters throughout history to speak to the plight of womxn in the present. These figures speak to the zeitgeist of their time. I am fascinated by how the concept of womyn has been demonized and deified throughout history. I can’t explain this draw, except I feel I have a voice as potent as the insurmountable sexism I address when I write from their perspective.

The third stanza continues the second in which Terpsichore is translating what she feels the people mean by their questioning. I.e., when they ask, “what’s it like to be the mother of sirens?” they mean, “what’s like to be the minor character

in every story?” I hope that makes sense. Despite being a published artist, I am still unsure how to format things, so they are easier to understand. I appreciate the inquiry.

I am so impressed and excited that you contemplate these things at your age; I hope you never stop. Thank you for sharing your ideas with me. I hope you enjoy this journey called life.

Best,

Assétou Xango

From Emily, Grade 9

Dear Assétou Xango,

My name is Emily, and I am a freshman from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I am writing to you because your poem “Terpsichore” was mesmerizing, and it truly resonated with me. Upon listening to you read it for the first time, I was shocked. Your intrepid message and elusive delivery sincerely caught my attention. I even searched up what “Terpsichore” meant, and I realized it’s a muse of lyrics, music, and poetry. Similar to the sirens you wrote about in your poem. I was intrigued by the hidden messages that lied in the stanzas, and I began reading it over and over again, annotating furiously to attempt to understand the narrator’s frustration and anger and the reasons behind the narrator's pain. The hurt and fear that laced throughout the poem gripped me, and I couldn’t stop reading.

What first astonished me was your first two stanzas, specifically, when you wrote “what’s it like to be the mother of sirens? / they curl their lips / & snarl abound the syllables / they mean to say, / what is it like to raise sluts / who draw men off their sacred path?” Your use of magical realism was one of the first aspects of your poem that interested me, and the direct phrases that follow the first few lines contain so much underlying frustration and anger that not only the mother in this poem but women and those who identify as women face. The sirens remind me of the female characters limited to the role that only serves the male gaze, examples being the exotic temptress, the seductress, or the hypersexual teenage girl.

Furthermore, men weakened by their “immorality” create these roles, and what is extremely frustrating is when these characters are shamed for their actions, when, as you stated in your poem, “it is not [your] job to protect weak-willed men / who long to be seduced / but curse the ones who’ve master the art”. This statement was powerful: it compressed the toxicity of misogynistic male rhetoric and the unequal gender dynamics that occur every day. As a woman of color, I see this harmful mindset become perpetuated in film and in the media, with characters such as the Jezebel archetype that portray black women as the “sluts” who draw men (usually white men) off of their “sacred paths”. This representation only makes me feel uncomfortable in my skin because of the way people may perceive me. Additionally, as an Igbo woman, ancient misogynistic ideas that only suppress my voice control my life and contain me in an airtight box.

The final stanza to conclude the poem was my favorite, specifically the line “because you are the dangerous ones?” In my annotations, I wrote that this statement handed the mirror to the men who were scared of their own immorality, flipping the script to make the perpetrator the actual villain. Your words are so meaningful and powerful, and they speak to issues that seem to silence women and speak to issues of social justice and the imbalance that gender creates. Your poem and other pieces of literature such as “Eve” and “Give Your Daughters Difficult Names” speak to gender and identity, as well as issues concerning the inequalities between sons and daughters. I wonder, are your poems influenced by your personal experiences? Has any aspect of your own identity been misinterpreted or disrespected? What inspired you to write this poem? Was it a single instance, or an accumulation of life experiences?

“Terpsichore”, an astounding poem, spoke to the pertinent concerns and issues I see and face every day. Akin to your poetry and works of literature, I hope to inspire others to speak up and speak out about problems that subjugate them.

Thank you for using your voice to inspire me, and taking the time to read my letter.

Sincerely,

Emily

Dear Emily,

I thoroughly enjoyed reading your letter in response to my poem Terpsichore. You were conscientious and insightful, and I can feel the way the poem moved you.

It might be helpful to know that Terpsichore, in addition to being of dance and lyrics, is also the mother of the Sirens in Greek Mythology. This should give context to the poem as it is a persona piece written in her voice.

“…men weakened by their ‘immorality’ create these roles, and …shamed for their actions….”

This quote from your letter, indeed, the entire paragraph it belongs to, could not have hit the nail more directly on the head. I wonder how this knowledge impacts you. How will knowing it is the shortcoming of men and not any wrongdoing of yours fuel your behavior moving forward?. Does it change the way you carry your body, or does it run into some internalized blockage when you let that knowledge in?

I was excited to read that you are an Igbo woman. My ancestors have spent generations in the US, and I have no apparent connection to where I come from in Africa. My last name, Xango, is a derivative spelling of the Yoruban god Chango/Shango. This name is to be my bridge through the African diaspora to some semblance of home, a home that was stolen from me so many centuries ago. This has been my path of reclamation. What is yours?

Your skin, body, and presence will make many uncomfortable, and they will try to make their discomfort yours. You know that, and I know that but what happens when you fully accept it? What happens when you let them keep their shame and live fully as yourself, proudly wearing the traits they wish to stomp out of existence? It is as liberating as it is heartbreaking.

These poems are my process of reclamation too. There have been many stories told about me—both by name and by archetype. By telling my story, in my way, on many platforms across the world, I get to change that narrative. I like to choose mythical figures throughout history to re-write the tales weaponized against me. Eve was another poem in which I did this. If you dig deeper into my body of work, you may find a poem called Define. In this one, I use several famous stories told about women to ground power in my body. It is my ritual for self-empowerment.

I am so grateful to have met you this way. Know that I am in your corner, rooting for you all the way.

Best,

Assétou Xango

Dear Assétou Xango 2021

Page submenu block

Assétou Xango reads "Terpsichore"

Newsletter Sign Up