Poets.org: When and how did you find out you were elected to be a Chancellor?

Brenda Hillman: Jen Benka called me in January 2016. I felt joy and incredulity that I was being given such an honor. It was also an overwhelming period during the final years of a demanding full-time teaching job, so I said (without irony) to Jen, “I’m not sure I can do this. What is the workload involved?” We had a good laugh about that later.

Poets.org: What was it like being a Chancellor?

BH: I knew a little about the Chancellorship at the Academy of American Poets because Robert Hass, to whom I am married, had served in that role several years before I did. I never thought I would be elected because my poetry is odd compared to a lot of poetry out there, and maybe has more of an obscure readership. My happiness was short-lived because of the death of C. D.Wright that month. She and I were very close, and our aesthetic fidelities were similar; so at times, I felt I was presenting a poetic approach that we shared, a kind of innovative lyric mode. When I joined the Board of Chancellors in 2016, I was the only Chancellor elected that year, stepping in for the irreplaceable Naomi Shihab Nye. I took the duties very seriously during my six years and very much enjoyed the annual meetings and conversations; and I loved the Dodge Poetry Festival activities, especially the panels, the readings in New York, and related activities.

Poets.org: Whose work did you discover during your tenure? Do you remember turning to specific poets while serving as a Chancellor? 

BH: I was reminded of the importance of staying informed about how many elements and experiences the present life of poetry allows. I was amazed about how wide the work of poetry was and is, and became even more sensitized because of the introduction of the poets laureate for each state. Through Poem- a-Day, I discovered a lot of young poets. My term as Chancellor also covered the first two years of the pandemic, so depending on how you measure things, the acute phase was a third  of my tenure. It was a time when we were reminded of a need to connect—and then, of course, people lost connections as the political climate and the literal climate turned worse, and things started to fall apart again. But at the beginning of the pandemic, the editor Alice Quinn compiled an anthology of poets who were writing from isolation about this cataclysmic time. The Chancellors did a lot of work online, as did millions of others, so Poets.org mattered a lot. I thought daily about the underground life of poetry, about formal experimentation, our inner and visionary worlds, and about keeping in touch with the ecologies of one’s locale. I learned to appreciate and love the solitudes of poets whose work I knew, but my love for the work deepened: Dickinson, of course, and others, like René Char, Paul Celan, and the Chuvash poet Gennady Aygi. I read a lot of C. D. Wright’s work, celebrating what she had done. I read Joy Harjo’s anthology of Indigenous poets. I read Tomas Tranströmer and Forrest Gander. I found the work of Tongo Eisen-Martin thrilling. The radical British poet Veronica Forrest-Thomson, who died very young, has always interested me, and I picked up her book again. Bob and I studied the Book of Revelation in a class on apocalyptic writing. While I was on the Board, Camille Dungy, Carmen Giménez, and Ed Roberson all received Academy Fellowships, and I was grateful that their amazing poetry was honored.

Poets.org: What was it like working with other Chancellors? 

BH: The word Chancellor is so formal that I used to joke about it. The punk-rock mom in me wants to wear a big medallion with spikes over a black sequined T-shirt while performing Chancellor duties. At times, it felt like any committee work—mostly a great experience of collaboration, hearing each other out, and of course, occasionally annoying discussions. But not often! What will be “memorable” is different for each of us. I remember another Chancellor noting, after a reading, how wonderful it was that we all have such individual voices and styles, and that she could recognize all of our styles even with her eyes closed during our readings. I thought that was really interesting and great. There were other things that required patience and honesty. For example, there were a lot of difficult conversations about race, gender, and inclusivity. I thought our group handled those conversations with singular grace.

Poets.org: Did you learn anything about poetic lineage and the role of mentors during your time as a Chancellor?

BH: I love poets who write a wide array of poetry. I’m wary of people who talk in a clear-eyed way about lineages and are horrified by certain kinds of poetry. I don’t like being put in boxes, and I don’t really admire the models of pure ancestry in fields of art. Purity makes me uneasy, especially schools of poetry that claim territory. We are all mongrels. My own lineage is a map-like collage—I take from a lot of the Modernist poets, and I believe in the great international and ancient jumble when it comes to lineage, including archaic oral traditions. We all look to align with affinity groups. But when the other Chancellors and I talked about the real issues of poetry—how poetry makes it into hearts and minds—there was such a sweetness in our discussions. I remember looking over at one of the Chancellors who had been serving a few years longer than I as if she were an eighth-grader and I were a seventh-grader. The longer-serving Chancellors seemed to have a kind of wisdom.

Poets.org: Do you have any memories about our staff and our offices?

BH: Jen Benka and Nikay Paredes are two of the Earth’s amazing goddesses, as is Mary Gannon, who was there for about half of my tenure. Patient, brilliantly knowledgeable, and professional in what were very stressful times, they are exemplary human beings, as are all the staff members who were and are facilitating the complex aspects of the organization. I loved working with them. The Board members were super involved during those years. I really enjoyed getting to know Tess O’Dwyer, who participated in so many events. I remember visiting the new offices and marveling at the thousands of books, photos, and artifacts. We did the little recordings for the website surrounded by books. That was scary, knowing you were recording poems that school children would be listening to. It was nerve-wracking to record a poem over and over, trying to get it right. What an incredible space on Maiden Lane, filled with the richness of our great American poetry. Great snacks too!

Poets.org: Are there any events that you participated in that felt particularly meaningful to you?

BH: I loved the panels—many were memorable. I prepared a crazy amount of material for our presentations, and it was a little stressful knowing how brief the statements and conversations would be, but I loved them. Perhaps my favorite thing in all the six years was writing  the Dear Poet letters to the schoolchildren who were asking about poems. Fabulous! I could have answered those letters forever, and I would still be doing it if I could. Maybe the Academy might consider letting us “retired” Chancellors do the Dear Poet feature, since there were so many thousands of young readers whose letters we didn’t get to answer. I would have loved to answer many more. The kids had such great questions when they were engaging with the mysteries of language.

Poets.org: Did your experience as a Chancellor change your views about poetry or the community of readers?

BH: In all, it was a profound experience. I felt very much introduced to and in touch with new communities of poets and poetry readers who had a wide variety of experiences. I learned a lot about what is going on in poetry education. But at times, I felt aesthetically lonely, especially when trying to introduce the work of non-linear and innovative women writers. I felt frustration during meetings because the aesthetics of the Academy can be very conservative. Because there is such a bias toward poetry of the linear narrative, some of the more daring aesthetic traditions of the last four or five decades, especially those led by women, were only minimally represented while I was on the Board of Chancellors. Despite my advocacy, women writers of painterly experimental traditions, like Marjorie Welish, Cole Swensen, and Norma Cole, true pioneers, are not honored enough during their lifetimes, even though the young writers benefit from and imitate the work they do. I wish the Chancellors could shed light on more overlooked older poets. This would involve a kind of rescue mission which seems to happen mainly after writers, such as Barbara Guest, C. D. Wright, Etel Adnan, die. Maybe more can be done to include older writers as Guest Editors for Poem-a-Day, state project leaders, etc. Many great poets never received recognition, and I wish more of the rule-breaking pioneers would be acknowledged during their lifetimes.

Poets.org: Are there any other stories that you would like to share with us?

BH: I will always remember and appreciate serving on several important subcommittees, including one charged with trying to craft a response on behalf of the Chancellors to the murder of George Floyd, and the societal reckoning that occurred. The committee I was on—a communications committee or something like that—labored over every word for hours, knowing there was little we could do, but knowing how important it was to make a strong statement. I wish poetry had the power to save more people from suffering and brutal life conditions. Poetry is so frail and strong at the same time—these little bits of language that maybe offer a moment of relief or beauty or joy or insight.

Thanks to Ricky, and to everyone there at the Academy for all you do! Carry on the great work!