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won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
-Lucille Clifton*
Lucille read this poem at many of the readings I attended, and to remarkable effect. The audience often stood up and, not only applauded, but cheered, something you almost never see happen at poetry readings. People of all ages, genders, colors, classes, of all educational levels-from the halls of the academy to the people on the street-related to and understood her anthem.
Critics have often spoken of the strength in adversity and of the endurance that is expressed in Lucille Clifton's poetry. But don't words like "strength," "endurance," and "survival" still suggest the events that had to be endured? Don't they evoke a shadow that haunts the present and ties us to the past? However, "to celebrate" implies a power not defined or determined by outside forces, a power that is self-authored; it implies that one has taken possession of one's own powers. It is a joyful acknowledgment of the present. It was a touchstone for her, and it is for all of us. When we stood up, it wasn't only in response to the victories over life-threatening adversities; the poem speaks to everyday victories, the triumph of getting up in the morning and going to our job.
Lucille Clifton was both an extraordinary person and an extraordinary writer. Her friends and family, we who knew her and loved her, know there will never be another person like her, none so generous, loving, funny, and down to earth, so honest and-how could I ever forget to say-so wise! At her memorial, people from her family and friends stood up each to tell a "Lucille" story: how she could, with that wide and diverse intelligence (it turns out she was a long standing contestant and winner on the TV show Jeopardy), always cut through the b.s. As fast as you could snap your fingers and without...