Dear Semaj Brown 2022

Dear Beckett:

Thank you for reading my poem, “Black Dandelion,” and responding with a riveting, heartfelt letter. I was moved, compelled to wander through my thoughts. 

When I read recent or ancient history or view a documentary, or If I am afforded the honor to engage with an elder such as your noble, great-grandfather, I realize from the narratives divulged, “inhumanity” is a marker of our species. Pain, the quiet secret appears to be not so quiet, but is rambunctious and ubiquitous. Though people may be separated by generations and ethnicities, humans are not alone in misery or the infliction thereof. In both suffering and joy we are one. I do not want to suggest such terrible acts are naturally occurring like a rainstorm or the sun that shines to a burn. Genocide is not arbitrary or inevitable. Such horror is generated by people, formed out of bias systems that prioritize greed while fostering ignorance. It pains me to know such tragedies befell your ancestral family, and that the legacy from abhorrent acts continue to reverberate. 

The good news:  There is plenty of good news. Violence is learned behavior.   Some societies practice peace, cultural norms laud cooperation, not lethal competition. The good news is that decent ordinary people, together have power. We possess the capacity to formulate more just systems. We can govern and reorganize ourselves choosing equity and fairness. Populations can be educated obliterating ignorance which appears to be a manipulative factor behind many genocidal inclinations. The good news is that humans are dynamic; we can change. Humans have adapted to war; it is time we adapt to peace. 

Beckett, you asked, “Do I yet feel like a Dandelion?” Your inquiry inspired further ambling down my “Thought Avenue:” Is a dandelion a flower, or a weed? I have pondered these questions for some time. Who or what declares a weed a weed? What industry or forces first determined a lawn should not have dandelions? What was happening in our society when all-green lawn uniformity was established? Who benefited financially from a “monochromatic landscape?” Do you think bees view dandelions as weeds? Why is bee behavior important to humans? Why is diversity in nature important? Are not humans a part of nature? 

The metaphor of dandelion as a persecuted Black person was originally derived in a child’s mine. As a little girl, I adored those little yellow flowers, and I could not understand why we needed to rid our lawn of them. It was my job to help pull up the “weeds” from the root. My mother instructed the proper manner, “So they would not grow back.” Covertly, I would trim and snip leaving the root to ensure “my friends who grew just for me” would indeed survive and return the following year. At about age eight or nine, I formed a spy club with my cousin Linda and dear friend, Cindy. Saving the dandelions were part of our secret agent mission. My mother was continuously baffled as to why our lawn consistently displayed more dandelions than our neighbors. I danced in delight every Spring. ;))

Warm regards,

Semaj Brown                                                                                     

Dear MJ:

Thank you for reading my poem, “Black Dandelion,” and responding with a most insightful letter. In summary, I gleaned from the first few lines of your letter, you consider poetry to be freeing. Your description touts that poetry allows a kind of democracy, lending to varying interpretations, while validating different points of view. Henceforth this day, I will inform my writing students, MJ from Milwaukee offered the following metaphor:  poetry is freedom. 

MJ, I agree with you, imagery is central to poetry, though all poetry does not contain vivid imagery. Using words to make pictures in the mind is a powerful tool when trying to convey a message or evoke a feeling. When a writer creates pictures in the mind of the reader, the writer or poet is making an internal connection between the writer’s words and the reader’s perceptions. Meaning is made more real.  

To your question: The poem, “Black Dandelion” was conceived and written by request. I was asked by Poet Laureate, Jaki Shelton Green of North Carolina to submit a one-page poem to the anthology, “The Power of Goodness.” Most of my poems exceed one page, and surround the heavy issues of social justice, women’s equity, and environmental justice. “Black Dandelion,” as you are aware, holds serious content, however heard through the narrator’s voice which is a small child lightens the hard blows of a grave reality. 

The following line is quite hopeful and speaks to the resilience and determination of our ancestors and ALL people who fight for justice.  “We are Black Dandelions. We will never be destroyed! We grow the power of goodness for generations into the future!” 

Warm regards,

Semaj Brown

Greetings Brooke!

Thank you for reading, “Black Dandelion” and feeling compelled to write. Sharing your early childhood memory evoked by “Black Dandelion” in turn, ignited my imagination. Smiling internally, I could see and feel that friendly, soft bed of long grass turning angry and prickly once cut. I am sure I would have been quite perturbed having my comfy place unnecessarily altered. The mind of a child is to be forever celebrated. 

You are a senior, preparing for next steps, congratulations! Poetry can be a friend; it fits no matter the field or direction you choose. “Black Dandelion” boasts irony, bringing a bit of opaque humor which serves as a digestive aid to make bitter circumstances more palatable. That is the case with those hovering signs: “No Blooming Allowed” “Blossoms will be prosecuted!” I was joy struck to read you found the signs “funny.” It is important to laugh as laughter relieves tension and is a benefit to our emotional health. Including the signs magnified the absurdity of the situation. Within the context of the poem, society made it illegal for flowers to bloom. If the dandelions dare to blossom, petals are subject to prosecution. It is simply ludicrous! I often use absurdity in my social justice writing to illustrate the lunacy of ism practices such as racism, sexism, ageism, LGBTQAism, and on. 

Your questions are most relevant. Regarding Battling: In the wake of the rise in Asian hate crimes, vicious attacks on synagogues, the recent grocery store massacre of mostly Black Americans in Buffalo, and the mass murdering of children in Uvalde, YES, I am committed to “battle” on, or rather, work incessantly to educate and organize, utilizing poetry as precious power tool to improve our social condition. Our ills, whether gun violence or structural racism or blind eyes to our mental health crisis are all interrelated. Every society has a collective consciousness which produces the fruits of everyday life. We need a healthier yield. 

About the “hat framed faces of the pious, the amused and mortified” These were the adults, the women who were part of the village which informed my development. Ladies of the church presented equilibrium, a balance between adoringly admiring my “creative brilliance,” the earnest wit of a smiling little girl standing before them, and preparing me with necessary life lessons, ensuring I grew the discipline to respect rules, including those of the Sunday school. 

On being Positive:  I remain hopeful. Examining the triumphs and pitfalls of history, creates perspective, gives me a big picture lens that projects a bright future. I remember, I am not alone. There are people worldwide, millions striving to make our planet a sustainable, healthy, just environment.  

Favorite Flower:  My mother was an expert gardener. I emerged loving flowers. Each era of my life provided a preference. When the artist, Prince was the musical backdrop of my weekends, only purple hyacinths, irises, and lilacs inhabited vases around my apartment. As I matured, I selected gladiolas; I considered those flowers to be professional, tall in elegance. I went through an only roses phase. After marriage, I grew a wildflower garden. In this time, after the writing of the poem, “Black Dandelion,” and receiving and reading the letters that have forever changed me, the dandelion is hereby returned to favorite flower status! 

Warm regards,

Semaj Brown

Greetings Nevaeh,

Yes, indeed Nevaeh, “Everyone should be happy that they are who they are and not care about what others think.” You wrote those words so pure and true in response to the line in the “Black Dandelion” poem, “I am a proud weed.” Reading your commentary makes me very happy. Our word exchange created a happiness circle, and that is the power of poetry! 

Thank you, Nevaeh for sharing about your little brother who is “not the same as everyone” and his subsequent bullying. I was grateful to read he does not appear to be bothered.  Unfortunately, most people are not as self-assured; sometimes people who look just fine are hurting inside. When I was in elementary school, a bully tormented me. I pretended I was not afraid, but inside, I was trembling. I did not tell adults for a long time. When I finally told, the adults became involved, and the bullying ceased. Sometimes with intervention, the bullies can be corrected. People who are not like us should be embraced and treated very well. Bullying is never acceptable. Please think if there are any adults who could help. As you were able to discern, the poem, “Black Dandelion” champions the underdog, those who are unfairly treated. 

To answer your questions: “Black Dandelion” was written upon request. I was asked to write and submit a poem by Jaki Shelton Green, Poet Laureate of North Carolina to the anthology, “The Power of Goodness.”  When initially writing “Black Dandelion,” something rare happened. Before the poem was a poem, I wrote it as a short, short story, and published it in my column, “Poetry Confessions:  Tea Time with the Poet Laureate,” Flint Courier News. As I reviewed my miniature story, I recognized there was lyrical writing inside the story just waiting patiently to be edited into its new life as a poem. The process was much like sculpting, removing extra clay until a well-formed face is revealed, but in this case a poem.  The writing and transformation took about five to six weeks. Often, I begin thinking about writing before I jot one note. It is interesting that you were curious about the delivery of the word assassinated.   When reading the poem for recording, I broke up the word assassinated into syllables to reflect the manner in which a young child might sound out an unfamiliar word difficult to pronounce. This technique also slowed the poem down allowing space for people listening or reading to absorb meaning. 

Warm regards,

Semaj Brown

Dear Adithi,

It is good to make the acquaintance of a fellow Michigander! Thank you for your erudite response to my poem, “Black Dandelion.” 

The poetry of the “Black Dandelion” affords people permission to discuss historical traumas. After reading “Black Dandelion,” many students recount genocides from cultures spanning the globe. It is Earth shifting and heart breaking to consume these responses. Something intangible, something within, provokes me to apologize, to say to you how sorry I am that this happened to your Indian ancestors. To affirm, unvarnished displays of barbarism should have never occurred, and such vile behaviors should never repeat ever again.  Sorrow empathetically pours, though I know intellectually, I bear zero responsibility. However, I am human and members of my species committed and continue to level egregious acts, therefore, the onus for change does sit directly upon my feet. Extant is the connection, a radiant wire to my heart. The promise of poetry speaks hope to us: “…We will never be destroyed. We grow the power of goodness for generations into the future...”                                                                                                                      

Your question regarding the point at which the narrator recounts “the hat framed faces of the pious;” some were amused while others were mortified, I will explain.  Those mortified church members were reacting to my deviation from church traditions with the interjection of my dandelion speech. I was supposed to follow church protocol and deliver the well-rehearsed Bible lesson on David and Goliath. Since I was a small girl some of the pious thought I was adorable while others felt I should be taught to follow the rules, and that church was certainly not the place for deviation. 

I am excited about your future; the path of science fueled by poetry assures a well-rounded genius. Imagination is critical. My undergrad degree is in Biological Sciences. My husband is a Medical Doctor, a composer who makes musical instruments. Science and the literary arts are congruent, at times symbiotic. It is important to remain a student of the universe; a panoramic, topographical scope invites innovative clues to germinate. These inclinations will lead to answers allowing you to address humanity's most pressing questions. 

Warm regards, 

Semaj Brown

Dear Keilah

I am delighted to receive this letter from a young aspiring literary artist. I hope my response finds you well and filled with the great spirit of the weed! 

To address your question:

Why do you feel we are Black Dandelions?

In the poem, “Black Dandelion,” I establish an analogy, a comparison between two things, dandelions and Black people. I also create a metaphor, a comparison that suggests sameness as in “We are Black Dandelions.” And there is the making of the vivid image, the black dandelion. 

Many parallels exist between dandelions and the history of African Americans. For the purpose and scope of this letter, I will only highlight a few. Long ago, people were conditioned into bias or prejudice against dandelions, so long ago, the people have forgotten the root or reason for their discontent. Where did the bias against the little yellow “weed” originate? Perhaps parents told their offspring the lawn must be monochromatic—all green. Then, the children told their children, and their children passed on flower discrimination to their children. Soon 400 years had passed. This is the method in which generational bias or prejudice is transmitted to sustain hatred of a group of people, Black people, since 1619.  

To gain profits, these prejudices are upheld by institutions and big businesses. For example, powerful chemical companies developed herbicides to destroy the dandelion. Everything from extraction tools to dandelion resistant seed manufacturers generated revenues, growing the anti-dandelion industry.  Similarly, anti-Black policies yielded tremendous fortunes erecting economies from forced free and exploited Black labor: chattel enslavement industry to the Jim Crow sharecropping era to present day School to Prison Pipeline, and more. 

This year, 2022, I noticed more lawns were populated with dandelions, the bees first food of Spring. Responsible for over 70 percent of pollinated food, bees are being threatened. Lawns bedazzled with “sunburst noggins” play a critical role in addressing bee survival. Messaging from environmental agencies, ecological societies, and grass root community efforts are ringing alarm bells.  In 2020, alarm bells sounded, expressed by months and months of protests against racial injustice. The Centers of Disease Control, CDC declared, “Racism as a Serious health Threat.”  I recently recognized a significant increase in messaging on media platforms and programming in institutions regarding African American culture and contributions. There is an increase in corrective measures toward inclusion, equity, and diversity, however, not near fast enough. The sense of urgency is appropriately intense because in the realm of social justice, lives lost are of people, not plants or metaphors, but real people, not flowering images.  

Keilah, for all the uprooting efforts and fertilizing support from allies, Black dandelions yet resolve to grow “the power of goodness for generations into the future!”

Warm regards,

Semaj Brown