Boston’s Spoken Word Laureate

Just over a week ago, Mayor Walsh announced a search for Boston’s next poet laureate. A few days after the announcement, BDCwire published an article calling for a spoken word poet, Simone Beaubien, to be named the next Poet Laureate of Boston. My first reaction to the article was a resounding YES. I’ve seen Simone perform and can affirm that she is an incredible artist and is also incredibly dedicated to making spoken word vibrant in the city—she has directed two of the past National Poetry Slams held in Boston. However, the article caught me a bit off-guard because I had not thought that a spoken word artist could fulfill the duties of a poet laureate. But then again, I was not even sure what a poet laureate is supposed to do.

As it turns out, the contemporary American role of “poet laureate” is a purposefully vague title. The tradition of appointing a poet laureate can be traced back to the Middle Ages, when bards were chosen specifically to wax rhapsodic about their king or earl. Geoffrey Chaucer, John Dryden, and William Wordsworth have all been Poet Laureates of England, but the United States did not assign the role to one of its own poets until 1937. And even then they held off on titling the role “poet laureate” until 1985, first labeling it as “The Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress”. I suspect this had something to do with the American avoidance of praising aristocracy—expounding the glory of a king is not really in the American color wheel.

So when the title was adopted into the American literary scene, specific roles were never outlined. The poets receive the title and then becomes as involved or not involved in the poetry scene as they choose. According to the Library of Congress’s website, the poet laureate is meant to be “the nation's official lightning rod for the poetic impulse of Americans.” The irony here is almost palpable; the Library of Congress is using a metaphor to disguise an already vague definition of poet laureate. Regardless of the questionable poetic rhetoric of the government, the takeaway point is that the title of poet laureate is what you make of it.

This same flexibility applies for the lower laureates around the country: most states have their own poet laureate, as do many cities. Laureates take on a poetic role in the community in whatever way they see fit. The first and only Poet Laureate of Boston, Sam Cornish, assumed his title in 2008 and has since brought poetry readings and workshops to public organizations around the city.

Much of the work laureates have done in the past focuses on invigorating reading, writing, and literary appreciation in public life. Former United States Poet Laureate Billy Collins, who held the title from 2001 to 2003, started a program to bring poems into public schools and worked to make public transportation more poetic by encouraging buses and trains to post poems inside their cars. The current poet laureate, Natasha Tretheway, has a new project called “Where Poetry Lives” focused on finding communities who use poetry to better their lives. Her partnership with “PBS Newshour” has covered teens in Detroit who write about their experiences, doctors who use poetry to create empathy with their patients, and residents of detention centers who find release through poetry. Laureates can do a lot of good with their title—the possibility for positive work depends on making the right choice about who to appoint.

So who should Boston pick next? Simone Beaubien is an excellent option, and Boston is swimming with other spoken word poets who could also make the most of the title. Janae Johnson holds it down at the Lizard Lounge and would be an incredibly powerful voice for the city, and Porsha Olayiwola would equally rock the greater Boston area.

When you think about the history of the title and the vibrancy of the city, it makes sense that the next Poet Laureate of Boston should be a spoken word artist. After all, spoken word artists seek to alter the world they write about with their words. If the words and performance do not move language and push for change, then the poem will not stand well in front of an audience. A spoken word poet's art is all about transformation. In a city as young, active, and diverse as Boston, the poet laureate title should expand to encompass artists whose words fit just as well in sound waves as on paper. This city is ready for spoken words to shake our cobbled streets—Massachusetts has sheltered Dickinson, Bishop, and Lowell, and now it’s time to find a similarly lively poet to fill our local voice. The fact is, if a poet laureate’s job is to bring life to literature, Boston’s best option is a poet who uses their voice to make art and empower other members of the community.