The Fierce Verbal Artistry of Stacey Patton

Online, racist trolls frequently out themselves as anti-Christian by revealing their refusal to heed a sacred  Biblical commandment: "Thou should never, ever, under any circumstance engage in a verbal battle with one Stacey Patton." 

Remember when Michelle Obama said, "when they go low, we go high"? Well, what you didn't know is that Patton misheard and thought that Obama said, "when they go low, you go and get a bulldozer and dig deeper than the hole they're in, and then bury them with the dirt." 

Whatever the case, the trolls will periodically send racist messages to Patton on Facebook or Twitter and then...on those days she has the time, well, then the hilarious, creative, deeply historical, fantastical, piercing, ferocious verbal onslaught that flows forth from her is a work of art and buckshot.   

 

Exhibit #435
This racist once sent Patton a message saying she should write about Black women loving to kill their unborn children. What a terrible thing to say. Ok. Then, Patton responded, revealing her supreme abilities absorbing history, crafting narratives, critiquing racists, and playing the dozens.

 
First, she opened by noting "I've got a good story for you, you sunken-eyed, meth-faced, possum-fondling degenerate. Sit yo’ dented, crusty ass down" and listen. Next, she proceeded to offer three brief stories from the 1830s about the "great-great granddaddy" of the racist. In story one, Obadiah, as he was named in Patton's tale, raped an enslaved Black woman, who resisted by aborting the child, which meant for the modern-day racist, "your bloodline--THWARTED."

Next, in the second "chapter" from 1831, Patton presents a tale of a woman who leans into self-immolation rather than have a child by Obadiah.

Finally, in Chapter 3, "The Last Mistake," a child is born from Obadiah's raping ways. The mother considers that the child must die: "A quiet exit for a baby who would have grown up twisted by the hate of his white kin, filled with the festering, rotting disease of supremacy." But the baby lives. The child "survived, against all odds and lived to birth a whole line of disappointment and decay. And that’s how YOU got here today—a genetic poo stain smeared across history’s boot."

The racist troll, we learn, is "a roach that skittered past the stomp of justice."

What's the Origin Story for Patton's verbal skills?I was reading that piece and thinking about some of Patton's other comical, biting responses. I wonder if there's a way to situate her within histories of literary art. Maybe Black poetry? The phrasings, the creativity, the wordplay. Ok, yes, yes. But only Amiri Baraka put so many direct searing, comical insults on the page.

Much love to all the poets I've read, but overall, the field cares more about belles-lettres than the verbal fire flaming from Patton.

How about novels, certainly we can place Patton in the history of neo-slave narratives? That's what her story about those enslaved women was. Yes, it has the historical setting of a neo-slave narrative. It's inventive in the way of Toni Morrison's Beloved (1987), Colson Whitehead's The Underground Railroad (2016), and many other works within that realm. But Patton stretches out with the audience and delivery in ways that the novel ain't at for real.

Patton is no doubt over there in the world of the dozens, but her storytelling resides out there in ways that the back-and-forth of dozens don't. She also reconfigures hers to really go historical and then jump contemporary to critique a racist troll.

All of this is to say, I have more work to do to really fully situate Patton's work and workings.

Taking note of the Black Artists of Oklahoma Project

Oklahoma artist Shyanne Dickey's Tried and True

During a recent, short visit to the University of Oklahoma, I got a chance to meet with Kalenda Eaton, Olivia von Gries, and Robert Bailey, a few collaborators on the Black Artists of Oklahoma Project.

As Gries and Bailey explain in an article, the project is "a multiplatform collaborative effort based in the School of Visual Arts at the University of Oklahoma (OU) that celebrates the history of African American and other African diaspora art in Oklahoma through research, exhibitions, publications, and related programming."

I was pleased and inspired by learning more about the project. As a literature scholar, I have primarily thought about Oklahoma in relation to the birthplace of the great Ralph Ellison. This arts project prompted me to turn my attention to visual artists from the state. 

The approach and ideas behind the project are inspiring and something to replicate in other places.  

Their project promotes what they call "art-historical infrastructure," which constitutes "systems that sustain things that communities of future scholars and teachers need." For their project that means developing a directory of artists, images, and exhibitions. It also entails producing publications and conducting interviews and oral history and preparing materials for K - 12 educators focusing on the artists. 

You can see how this notion of art-historical infrastructure can and should be applied to various arts projects across the country. Imagine a Black Artists of [Insert your city or state or region]. So many possibilities. For now, I'm excited to see the ongoing and next steps of Black Artists of Oklahoma. 

Why you won't see Kalenda Eaton in this photo

The date, time, and place were set -- a photoshoot featuring the Leader of Multitasking. We waited for the subject to show up, but of course she couldn't make it because she was in three other places doing 7 other things. So this photo should feature the undisputed champion Kalenda Eaton, but taking the time to pose for photos ain't her thing, since it prevents her from muti-tasking. 

In all seriousness, last week during a short visit to the University of Oklahoma, I got glimpses of the homegirl Professor Eaton in action. She's director of a National Park Service’s signature Black Homesteader Project. She's a Co-PI on a "Black Artists of Oklahoma” project. 

She's on a board that decides on grant opportunities for humanists and organizations. She's current president of the Western Literature Association, thus actively collaborating with colleagues to host their upcoming fall conference. She's constantly offering ideas to shape the direction of African American Studies at her university. And she's interim chair of the Women’s and Gender Studies department. Oh, and she's teaching African American literature and serving on dissertation committees. 

She stays on the move. 

I know there's a lot of necessary critiques out there about folks doing too much work and of the problems of people assigning superwoman status on folks. I don't think that's what's going on here. Eaton really enjoys the various activities she's involved in, and she's really good at it. 

Some of us tell her to slow down, not because she's struggling, but because we're trying to catch up. 

All of this is to say, no, you won't get her to slow down for the Leader of Multitasking photoshoot. 

Lakecia Benjamin wows at Jazz St. Louis

In 2002, as a grad student at Penn State, I took a course on free jazz under Professors Paul Youngquist and William J. Harris. That's when I really began to think about and listen to the music in more serious ways and started trying to write on what I was hearing, experiencing.   

I was taken back to some of those early moments of intellectual growth last night at the Jazz St. Louis when I bore witness to this extraordinary force of nature that goes by the name Lakecia Benjamin. Extraordinarily talented, boundlessly energetic, and vibrantly engaging. 

She was joined by her band that included Oscar Perez (piano), Elias Bailey (bass), Dorian Phelps (drums). The whole group was phenomenal. Benjamin moved through several pieces, moving at a swift pace for most of the show. 

A couple of highlights for me: for one, she spent time in at least two tunes doing a kind of dual solo, back-and-forth with Phelps. She said he's only being playing with her band since October, but it felt like they've been playing together for many years. They were incredibly in sync. 

She was blurting out all kinds of sounds, bits and pieces, and he's matching her energy and pace. I'm still searching for the words, but what they were doing was outstanding. 

She also paid tribute to the one and only John Coltrane by offering her own rendition of "My Favorite Things." Listen, it was a serious free jazz moment, because she took that familiar song apart, changed it into something else, and even, unbelievably incorporated the spiritual "Wade in the Water" into the mix. What the...? Nah, this was next level, old time spiritual and new music. 

Back in the day, Amiri Baraka explained that "Coltrane seeks with each new onslaught to completely destroy the popular song." Elsewhere, Baraka said that "Trane is a mature swan whose wing span was a whole new world. But he also showed us how to murder the popular song. To do away with Western forms." 

Those hard terms "destroy" and "murder" were likely related to the climate of the 1960s, and aren't as appropriate for now. But we do need something to talk about the incredible arrangement/re-arrangement that Benjamin was putting on this popular song.   

Later, extending the blend of spirituals and Black church music aesthetics into jazz, Benjamin and Perez did a rendition of "Amazing Grace." Similar to what Trane did with "My Favorite Things," Black folks have, for more than two centuries, made "Amazing Grace" our own. Benjamin reminded us of that with her playing. 

I've caught a few different jazz shows this year already, and I'm now going to keep the memory of this one with Benjamin in my mind for a while.  

Related:

• Amiri Baraka on those Albert Ayler "ruins" and "rumors"

Blogging about Poetry in February

[Related content: Blogging about Poetry] 

• February 22: Jerry W. Ward, Jr., the Black Chant Scholar, and the Baraka Scholar

• February 15: Jerry W. Ward, Amiri Baraka, Black poetry studies

• February 1: Blogging about Poetry in January 2025

Jerry W. Ward. Jr.'s services in New Orleans

I'm back from New Orleans. On February 21, 2025, I attended the services in honor of our friend and professor Dr. Jerry W. Ward, Jr. I served as one of the pallbearers.

 
There were about 50, 60 people there: His relatives (a small group of cousins). Various former students from Tougaloo College. Mississippi friends and writers; New Orleans friends and writers (Kalamu ya Salaam, Brenda Marie Osbey, Mona Lisa Savoy, and a few others). Dr. Ward's friend, the attorney and art collector Cleo Thomas, Jr. drove over from Alabama.

The president of Tougaloo College attended read a proclamation in honor of Dr. Ward. The initial plan was for those gathered to read "his story" (obituary) silently, but Betty Parker Smith thought folks needed to hear it, so she asked Mississippi writer C. Liegh McInnis, another one of the pallbearers to read it to the audience. That was the highlight for me, mainly because I've spent the last two decades exchanging ideas about literature, music, culture, and politics with Dr. Ward and C. Liegh.

Related:

• A Notebook on Jerry W. Ward, Jr.

5 photos of Jerry W. Ward., Jr. over the years

We recently loss Jerry W. Ward, Jr. (July 31, 1943 - February 8, 2025). Here are some photos I snapped of him over the years at various gatherings.

With Amiri Baraka and Maryemma Graham, in Harrisonburg, Virginia, September 2004

with Eugene B. Redmond in East St. Louis, February 2005

Jerry W. Ward, Jr., the Black Chant Scholar, and the Baraka Scholar

I still don't have all my words together about losing Dr. Ward. I mean, there's so much to say so everything is just scattered. In the meantime....

In 1997, my junior year at Tougaloo College, Dr. Ward told me that if I was really serious about studying Black poetry, then "you need to be reading Aldon Nielsen." His book Black Chant (1997) was the first and only book of literary criticism that I purchased as an undergrad. (A few years later when I first met Nielsen, he autographed the book for me). 

In fall 1998, a professor from Penn State named Susan Harris sent recruitment query letters to various HBCUs, including Tougaloo, asking if they had students who might be interested in studying literature at the university. A history professor shared the letter with me, and I asked Dr. Ward if he knew a Professor Harris from Penn State. He wondered if it was "William Harris, the Baraka Scholar." That was the first time I heard the phrase "Baraka Scholar." 

I had done an exchange program at New York University in spring 1998, and Baraka was a visiting fellow on campus. I got to see him read a couple of times and was blown away. I was intrigued to then learn from Dr. Ward that someone could be a "Baraka Scholar."  

In spring 1999, Susan Harris coordinated an opportunity for me to visit the grad program at Penn State, where I met William Harris -- yes, the Baraka Scholar. The next fall, I began my grad studies there, and a year or two in the program, Professor Nielsen joined the faculty. The Black Chant Scholar and the Baraka Scholar were there in one place. Big ups to Dr. Ward for previously introducing me to some of their works.   

Related:

• A Notebook on Jerry W. Ward, Jr.