As part of the 2022 Dear Poet project, students around the country and the world wrote letters to M.L. Smoker in response to a video of her reading her poem “Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous—Chapter 1” aloud. M.L. Smoker wrote letters back to seven of these students; their letters and her replies are included below.
Dear Ms. Smoker,
My name is Abigail, and I’m a freshman at Westfall High School in Pickaway County, OH. I like music, literature, and interesting tv. I say interesting tv because it would take far too long to explain what I like in the said area. I’m writing in regards to your poem “The Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous-Chapter 1.” I enjoyed reading it, and I feel it can be interpreted in many ways.
The title is admittedly what caught my attention first, but I suppose that’s what titles are for. I firmly believe that history is a lot worse than we’re led to believe. Power and greed led to colonization, and it’s hurt a lot more than it’s helped. It’s arguable that colonization paved the way for better things happening to the world since more resources were available, but there are a lot of bad things to counter that.
Outwardly I, and my family, look like most others, but on my mom's side, we are different. Both of my mother’s grandparents on her mother’s side are indigenous, but she was never raised as such. People that are seen as different are suppressed and bad things happen to them at the hands of the ‘superior’. That’s why they never passed on traditions as they should have, and today I wish I could have learned those things. My mom is working to get us recognized as indigenous, but it’s a hard process because indigenous people have tried to hide the fact that they are such so they could fit in and endure easier lives.
“An agony of secrets,” is a line from your poem. It is one of the lines that stood out to me and made me think of what has happened to indigenous people, especially Native Americans. I feel like your poem's main point is around the indigenous, and not only what was taken from them, but what has happened to their land since it was taken. With the line above I think of many things. I feel that the highways are examples of how people have covered things up to make them appear whole and perfect. When in reality they are unkempt and wild.
The line also made me think of the things done to indigenous people that have been covered up and tossed out of a window like they weren’t important. One such event I was reminded of is when schools were set up for indigenous children, where they were later slaughtered. It also makes me think of when natives were forced from their homes many times because colonizers had claimed them under the only ‘right’ power in the world.
Also, the line regarding the neon signs was one of my favorites as well. As a kid, and now, I look at neon signs everywhere. It’s something you can’t really avoid today, and some of them are beautiful but they cover up something more beautiful. Natives knew nature to be superior and to be kept healthy, but things today like neon signs do the opposite of what the ingenious fought to preserve.
“They are pathetic hushs, feeble in spirit,” with this line my mind went how culture amongst those outside of the indigenous just aren’t the same in spirit, pun intended. Powwows, for example, have so many aspects that feed your spirit in a way. The music and dancing connect you with others and tell history all in the same. Inuit singing is beautiful and doesn’t require words, but it connects you to the person you’re singing with in so many ways.
Both lines two and four in stanza five speak to me greatly. But I can’t fully understand the meaning behind them. At the same time, I have some idea, but I can’t put it into words. Would you be willing to tell me your meaning behind them? I understand if you don’t want to because there is something better than knowing.
The whole entire last stanza is something I adore. It speaks on its own so much. Even if your intent wasn’t to speak about the Indigenous here, I still adore this stanza. It reminds me of the embodiment of mother earth, or something greater, and how it will always come back in the end in itself and in others. At the same time, I can take it literally where Earth shows exactly what has happened on and in it since its creation. Not only the Earth itself, but the inhabitants on it.
This poem was my favorite out of them all because of the direct story I pulled from it and the indirect story I pulled. I appreciated the wording and the intentional and unintentional meaning behind this poem. It’s what I feel like poetry should embody in my mind. Your skill in trying to bring across one point has also brought across many, something that I loved while reading this poem.
Thank you for writing this poem. It was conveyed beautifully. I admire your writing skills as well because they achieved everything I’ve described.
Sincerely,
Abigail
Dear Abigail –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
As Indigenous yourself, I’m glad you were able to connect to the poem and find meaning. Being Native American certainly is about being a part of a complex history, that does include colonization and boarding schools, which you mentioned in your letter. We do continue to be impacted by those things, as well as other negative policies and actions that have hurt our communities, our families. But I also find there is so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are still here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories.
I also can share that as a child I attended church with my grandmother. At that church there was a lot of talk about the book from the bible, Revelation, as it seemed to be filled with impending doom and fear. When I was thinking about writing a poem about all the Indigenous women who go missing in the US and Canada, something made me think back to being a child and how that one part of the bible made me afraid but curious. I no longer go to church, but I wanted to see what made me feel that way. As I was looking through it, certain lines or pieces stood out to me. I wondered at incorporating some of it in to the poem I was writing. So I did. The two lines you actually point out in the fifth stanza are ones I took words from the book of Revelation. I’ve done this before with other texts – some oral traditions from my Tribe, other authors or poets whose language I find interesting.
And yes, I share your sentiment that we are all of this earth, all connected. And I wanted to bring that sentiment to life in the final stanza. That even when terrible things may happen, we are still a collective – and for those women who go missing or otherwise, we will not forget you.
I hope you continue to enjoy and read poetry. It has meant so very much to me in my life, giving me a place to think, create and share.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker
Dear M. L. Smoker,
I read your poem “The Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous—Chapter 1.” I have to say I really enjoyed the ending. I loved the metaphor with animals, especially birds! How did you connect safety to a bird's beak? You have such lovely language throughout the piece. Especially when you mentioned glass splintering instead of wood. It really helped describe the message you were going for. History is so often covered and sugar-coated. It was very refreshing to see someone show their struggle to show everyone the untouched side of history instead of the side that was paved with gravel (as you said).
As someone who was born and raised in America, I often can feel my ties getting cut by distance. Yet even the word “Palestine'' feels like home to me. Everytime I say it I can almost taste the olive oil and smell the Za'atar as it teases the air. So this poem really felt like someone was just trying to go to their old home that was not replaced by the new one. I also liked how you used modern day things that don’t seem like much to show how they take space. I have never written about a motel light or even thought about it as ominous. I also like who towards the end it seems like a reference to mother nature, or maybe it is a reference to you? Poetry is a fickle thing with many faces, so maybe it is both. In poetry I often find myself different, do you? From a young aspiring poet, how do you put words together on the page and keep them from becoming a melting mess?
I do wonder if you experienced erasure of history or identity? Did you feel the pain of never being able to be one side or the other, always caught between the two. The gears don’t bat an eye as they keep turning and crush you. Have you ever experienced the stripping away of identity? The kind that leaves you floating in void and wondering “Who am I?”.Does your mind wander when you write? Does it leave you wondering who you are and if you truly exist? I think maybe your words are just that, words. Or perhaps they too carry a message like a bird does a worm. Do they cradle you as you seek solace in your own creation? Doesn’t everyone find comfort in what is known? Do you? Or maybe the unknown is an adventure yet to be taken. Perhaps you find a journey’ calling alluring. Not a siren’s call waiting behind a curtain of shadows. I think I am overthinking, this is how writing is for me. A waterfall of words that wishes it would listen to gravity, but instead flows to heavens and its maker.
Sincerely,
Fairouz
Dear M. L. Smoker,
I was moved when I read your poem called the “Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous— Chapter 1.” I am of South Asian descent, and my parents immigrated to the United States 20 years ago. I am always having difficulty managing my Indian and American cultures. I come from a family that is very religious and am surrounded by other families with a similar culture.
However, after reading this poem I now understand the struggles of other people who are not surrounded by people of similar cultures and who don’t have the opportunity to express themselves. This was especially near the end of the poem when you talked about “stitches together the collective story of origin.” I connect to this because I understand the importance of our past, our ancestry, and our history. I understand now the struggles that people of different groups of people go through. This made me reinterpret the way that I see the life of other people from different groups. It’s an immense difficulty to constantly try to feel included within society when we can be constantly discluded.
I understand from the title that this is in the context of indigenous people and the struggles that they face with a lack of inclusion. However, I have a question considering the context of this poem. Did you have other groups of people in mind when you created this poem? In specific, did you consider the struggles of other groups of people like black or gay people? Is this poem contextualized to the struggles of people who are considered a deviation from what would be considered “normal” within society?
I would like to understand the deeper meaning and contextualization for this poem. I am strongly interested in gaining insight about the cultural viewpoints that this poem is predicated upon.
Sincerely
Rishabh
Dear Fairouz and Rishabh –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
Thank you so much for your observations – I am a big fan on paying attention to the details in life. I appreciate your recognition of my line ‘ stitches together the collective story of origin.’
Being Indigenous, in many ways in life the experience of others who have immigrated to this country – it certainly is about being a part of a complex history and the idea of ‘home’ and our ancestors and our identity. My own ancestors were forced out of their homelands to a reservation. the hurt and sometimes isolation, there is still so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories. And we can reshape our identities, but for me, holding on to who I am and where I come from is very important, even necessary.
I actually wrote this poem in response to a piece of art – it is called ‘Epicenters’ by Molly Murphy Adams, a Lakota artist (I am also Lakota). She used an actual map and stitched beadwork on it in places where Native women had gone missing or had been murdered. So my poem does specifically try to speak to those devastating events, but I also realize that poetry can connect across many different groups of people and communities.
I hope you continue to enjoy and read poetry. I very much enjoyed your last paragraph especially with the word choice, the critical questions we all ask ourselves, and the images you shared. I think you have the poetry inside you as well.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker
Dear Ms. M. L. Smoker,
My name is Laya, and I’m currently a freshman in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. As long as I can remember, poetry and music have always been a part of my life. I’ve always loved the cleverly crafted metaphors and plethora of emotions that somehow always seem to weave their way into the poem. Growing up, music was something that constantly came with me wherever I went; it was there with me every time I moved for my mom’s job or for my education. As you can imagine, it was quite difficult for me to form relationships and make friends with every move - and this is where music and poetry came in - a way for me to get away. When I was ten, maybe even younger, I began to write my own poems and songs as a pastime. As I got older, however, it became a way for me to express myself in a way I could not plainly to others - it became my lifeline, something I relied on to get through tough situations - each of my songs and poems became a mirror into my thoughts and soul.
Reading your poem “The Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous - Chapter 1” was like a cold, rainy mist on a hot summer’s day - eye-opening, riveting, and captivating. The moment I laid my eyes on the title, I became deeply interested; as a crime-novel lover, it immediately captured my attention. The words were so beautifully crafted into the stanzas of intriguing metaphors that immediately spiked my interest. Not to mention, in such short verses, you managed to create such imagery for the reader that I could see the separate scenes playing out in my head. Some of my favorite lines include:
‘Brittle men who are splintered like glass thrown from a second story window and we are the room they leave behind’,
‘Her hair is a two-edged sword’, and
‘ …her body a map: descended from the stars’.
The first line prompted me to make a connection to the victims of sexual abuse/assault, however, as more of a callout to the strength of a woman in such a hard situation as opposed to that of a perpetrator who is so often shown as the one in power. It emphasizes that those who create such a situation do so in a reflection of their cowardliness or weakness as opposed to the victim who survives even though such a large boulder was pushed upon their path. Not only that, but the poem as a whole feels to me as a cornerstone of feminism, emphasizing the culture and power of a woman. As a feminist and a woman myself, this resonated deeply with me and made me proud. A woman is so much more than the obstacles she faces or the problems and pain thrown her way. The latter of the three lines felt like a communication of the specialty of a woman - each one capable of finding her way through the map and bringing the ultimate treasure of a new life into the world.
There is, however, so much more to this poem than that of what I have attempted at understanding; questions I have that only you can answer. What was your original intentional meaning behind the lines? There is so much in this short poem, and I’m wondering how you manage to create the spectrum of interpretations while having your own personal meaning that defined why you wrote this poem. What was your writing process in creating all these thought-provoking metaphors and putting them into a poem? There are so many of them, and they all hold a multitude of special meanings.
This poem was a pleasure to read and interpret, especially as someone who loves to do so. It truly shows you so many different perspectives that you might otherwise never get to experience. While many people think that there is so much, too much, even, going on in poetry, the truth is it is a beautiful and ancient mode of creativity and writing woven into one, which grants you access to another world. However, without amazing poets like you, we would never gain the key to that universe. You have truly given me (and so many others) a chance to escape the real world for just a few minutes and revel in the beauty of the universe of poetry.
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful, insightful poem with the world.
Yours sincerely,
Laya
Dear Laya –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
Writing has always been very important to me too – like a lifeline and something that I can always depend on. I’m glad writing poems and songs has been that for you too. It is important to find those ways to express yourself, to know you have a voice inside of you, that the way you look out and interpret the world is uniquely yours.
Being Indigenous, in many ways is about being a part of a complex history and the idea of ‘home’ and our ancestors and our identity. My own ancestors were forced out of their homelands to a reservation. the hurt and sometimes isolation, there is still so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories. And we can reshape our identities, but for me, holding on to who I am and where I come from is very important, even necessary.
I actually wrote this poem in response to a piece of art – it is called ‘Epicenters’ by Molly Murphy Adams, a Lakota artist (I am also Lakota). She used an actual map and stitched beadwork on it in places where Native women had gone missing or had been murdered. So my poem does specifically try to speak to those devastating events and the victimization of women. Yet we have the ability to rise up and be seen and heard.
I love images and always try to use them in my poems to invoke special meanings that go beyond what you might literally see or hear or feel. I hope they bring things to life in new ways I hope you continue to enjoy and read poetry. It is an amazing kaleidoscope, a whole universe that allows us to find ourselves, connect with others, and make sense of our experiences and the world.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker
Dear M. L. Smoker,
Upon reading The Book of the Missing, Murdered and Indigenous-Chapter 1, I first thought that perhaps the poem was somewhat nostalgic, perhaps portraying hiraeth (a Welsh word that is a mix of longing, nostalgia, and homesickness). It has an air of confusion to it, yet also a firm authority. What emotions were you feeling as you wrote the poem? Were they the same as the ones you were trying to portray in the words?
Another interesting thing I noticed was that glass was mentioned twice. “Eyes like glass beads,” (6) and “who are splintered like glass,” (9), and in both circumstances, they are related to animals (or humans), “eyes” and “brittle men”. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that glass can be clear, yet still cloudy and opaque, at the same time? What was the original intention with using glass twice? Was it even on purpose?
I found the poem to be intriguing and rather mysterious, the words seemed to have been fitted together with great care. I find it interesting how it intertwines times, talking about neon signs and animal trails. The one thing I found odd was that there was no specification of who ‘she’ was. Is the unknown woman meant to be the earth, a mountain, a tree, a rock, a bush, or is it meant to be left to the imagination?
I found the poem to be very interesting and satisfying. The title reflects the emotions in a very effective way, and I really enjoyed reading the poem.
Sincerely,
Emeilia
Dear Emeilia –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
I love images and always try to use them in my poems to invoke special meanings that go beyond what you might literally see or hear or feel. I select each word carefully, with precision. I’m glad you were connected to the glass references – I used it in hopes of alluding to fragility but also the keenness of what we see. Writing poetry for me is an amazing kaleidoscope, a whole universe that allows us to find ourselves, connect with others, and make sense of our experiences and the world.
Being Indigenous, in many ways is about being a part of a complex history and the idea of ‘home’ and our ancestors and our identity. My own ancestors were forced out of their homelands to a reservation. the hurt and sometimes isolation, there is still so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories. And we can reshape our identities, but for me, holding on to who I am and where I come from is very important, even necessary.
I actually wrote this poem in response to a piece of art – it is called ‘Epicenters’ by Molly Murphy Adams, a Lakota artist (I am also Lakota). She used an actual map and stitched beadwork on it in places where Native women had gone missing or had been murdered. I was so moved by the artwork and was honored to try to make sense of it in my poem.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker
Dear Ms. Smoker,
My name is Ellie. I go to the Butternut School District. If you are wondering where Butternut is, it is in the Northern part of Wisconsin. It is almost always cold up here. I live by one of the largest freshwater lakes in the world. Pretty cool, huh? Some of my hobbies include rock picking and gardening. Some of the sports that I do are softball, basketball, and figure skating. My favorite sport out of all three of these would have to be softball because batting helps me release all of my anger built up inside of me because of my pestering little brother.
I enjoyed listening to you read your poem “The Book of the Missing, Murdered, and Indigenous.” Many of my classmates judge me for liking it. I don’t know why. I think that it is because it is different from other poems. I chose this poem to listen to because it was not sweet like the other ones. It was dark and mysterious, and that is the sort of stuff that I like to read. This poem made me think about all of the missing 411 books that I have read before. I interpreted this poem as all of the people that have been taken or basically just what is happening out in the world today right now.
I appreciate that you have written that poem and had the courage to share it with the world, but I have a few questions. My first question is: How did you come up with the inspiration to write this wonderful poem? My second question is: How many books have you ever written? My final question is: What got you interested in poetry?
I don’t know why but I never was any good at writing poetry, but I always did like to read it. Some of my favorite poets are Shel Silverstein. Have you ever heard of him?
Sincerely yours,
Ellie
Dear Ellie –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
I’ve never been to the part of Wisconsin you call home but it sounds a lot like Montana in some ways. I like to try and describe the lakes, the streams, the mountains – the overall landscape where I live because it a big part of who I am. I love images and always try to use them in my poems to invoke special meanings that go beyond what you might literally see or hear or feel. Writing poetry for me is an amazing kaleidoscope, a whole universe that allows us to find ourselves, connect with others, and make sense of our experiences and the world.
Being Indigenous, in many ways is about being a part of a complex history and the idea of ‘home’ and our ancestors and our identity. My own ancestors were forced out of their homelands to a reservation. the hurt and sometimes isolation, there is still so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories.
I actually wrote this poem in response to a piece of art – it is called ‘Epicenters’ by Molly Murphy Adams, a Lakota artist (I am also Lakota). She used an actual map and stitched beadwork on it in places where Native women had gone missing or had been murdered. I was so moved by the artwork and was honored to try to make sense of it in my poem.
Thank you so much for selecting my poem, even if some of your classmates didn’t connect with it. I’ve written one book of poem, but am diligently working on the second even now. I have also heard of Shel Silverstein and fondly remember reading his books when I was younger. I’m glad you enjoy his work.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker
Dear M.L. Smoker,
Hello Mrs. Smoker, My name is Solomon. I’m in the 11th grade at The Barstow School. I lived in Missouri my whole life and love it here. I live out in the country in a town of about 500. There’s really nothing to do out here, there are only wheat fields and soybean fields and gravel roads. The only thing we have is two gas stations and a basketball court behind the post office.
When I read your poem it spoke volumes to me. I felt like I had something in common with you. I haven't really had that happen to me when I read. The letters on the paper somehow ripple all together, making the poem easy to read, and almost satisfying to read. Reading is hard for me. I never liked reading books because they were really, really long, but your poem was a joy to read.
Your poem first started off with imagery of the country with some gravel roads. When I saw that I kind of chuckled because I live on a gravel road.When I read the first part of the poem I just thought it was very interesting because it leaves you on a cliffhanger. What made you do that? I didn’t know what you were talking about until I read the second stanza.
Some of the literature like “ Brittle men who are splintered like glass are thrown from a second story window” I struggled to understand what this means. I feel like it means losing your identity. What this poem means to me is Native Americans losing their culture. Since you're a Native American I think that the girl in the poem is you. I think the poem in the beginning is talking about you and what you saw when you grew up and the last part of the poem is you picking up the pieces and finding out who you are. I really enjoyed your poem.
Sincerely,
Solomon
Dear Solomon –
I need to apologize first for my delay in writing to your letter. I have had several reading events this summer, as well as a children’s graphic novel (Thunderous) that was published this spring and has also kept me busy. But I was so happy and excited to read your thoughtful response to my poem, ‘Book of the Missing Murdered and Indigenous – Chapter 1.’
I’ve never been to the part of Missouri but I’m sure it has some of its own unique beauty like where I live in Montana – even the gravel roads. I like to try and describe the lakes, the streams, the mountains – the overall landscape where I live because it a big part of who I am. I love images and always try to use them in my poems to invoke special meanings that go beyond what you might literally see or hear or feel. Writing poetry for me is an amazing kaleidoscope, a whole universe that allows us to find ourselves, connect with others, and make sense of our experiences and the world.
Being Indigenous, in many ways is about being a part of a complex history and the idea of ‘home’ and our ancestors and our identity. My own ancestors were forced out of their homelands to a reservation. the hurt and sometimes isolation, there is still so very much to be proud of, to stand up for. That is something I always try to do in my writing – to remind people that we are here, that we have a voice and want to reclaim our stories, our histories.
I actually wrote this poem in response to a piece of art – it is called ‘Epicenters’ by Molly Murphy Adams, a Lakota artist (I am also Lakota). She used an actual map and stitched beadwork on it in places where Native women had gone missing or had been murdered. I was so moved by the artwork and was honored to try to make sense of it in my poem.
Thank you so much for selecting my poem. I hope that you continue to read and enjoy poetry as it has meant so much in my own life.
I hope you have great year ahead.
With respect and gratitude,
Mandy Smoker