Margaret Walker, a remarkable poet and novelist, used the power of words to profoundly influence a generation. Born on this day July 7, 1915 in Birmingham, Alabama, Walker was a literary pioneer whose works became an instrumental force in shaping the thoughts and perceptions of African American life during the mid-20th century. Her poetry and prose transcended the barriers of race and gender, providing an authentic voice to the silenced and marginalized.
Walker’s work, notably her novel Jubilee and poem collection For My People, are considered seminal texts that have shaped the course of African American literature. Jubilee, published in 1966, is a groundbreaking novel that offers a visceral depiction of slavery and its aftermath, providing perspectives often overlooked in mainstream literature. The narrative is centered around Vyry, a resilient woman who embodies the struggles and triumphs of her people, effectively conveying the human cost of slavery.
For My People, Walker’s collection of poems published in 1942, embodies her commitment to celebrate and explore the African American experience. These poems are an audacious expression of the harsh realities faced by African Americans, coupled with a hopeful vision for the future. The titular poem, “For My People,” is a poignant call to action against racial injustice which resonated deeply with readers and remains relevant today.
Margaret Walker’s eloquent use of language and her engaging storytelling have made her an influential figure in literature. Her words not only depict the African American experience but also serve as a rallying cry for equality and justice. Through her powerful narratives and thought-provoking poems, Walker has left a lasting impression on a generation, demonstrating the profound impact that words can have on society.
Lineage
My grandmothers were strong.
They followed plows and bent to toil.
They moved through fields sowing seed.
They touched earth and grain grew.
They were full of sturdiness and singing.
My grandmothers were strong.
My grandmothers are full of memories
Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay
With veins rolling roughly over quick hands
They have many clean words to say.
My grandmothers were strong.
Why am I not as they?
-Margaret Walker
Curated by Jennifer
