Source of book: Borrowed from the library
My youngest and I have enjoyed poetry together lately, specifically Custard and Company by Ogden Nash, and Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats by T. S. Eliot. So, I thought I might pick up one from the library for Black History Month.
The Blacker the Berry is a collaboration between poet Joyce Carol Thomas and illustrator Floyd Cooper. It is a pretty short book, with a series of poems all about skin color. Specifically, the different shades of black skin, from “purple” black to nearly “white,” Including the “red” of those with mixed African and Native American heritage, the “yellow” of biracial skin, and a number of shades along the continuum, which are treated within the metaphor of delicious and sweet things to eat. Hence the title, from the old saying, “The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice.”
The book starts with the author (or narrator, as you prefer) asking her grandfather about what shade is Human. From there, it is a celebration of the spectrum of Black skin coloration that is deliciously positive and affirming and inclusive.
Which means, probably, that a right-wing group somewhere in Florida is probably trying to get it banned. Sigh.
We enjoyed it quite a bit, because the poems are fun, and roll off the tongue well, and are just so joyful. I guess maybe we don’t feel defensive about being white. And my kids have been puzzled and horrified to see how many people have become openly racist these days. It feels good to see positive messages to counteract all the hate and fear that certain politicians and groups have stoked lately to cling to power. The illustrations, with the various shades illustrated by vibrant children of the shades described, in motion and verve, are a perfect accompaniment.
I won’t quote too many, because of copyright, and because I think the book is worth reading as a whole work of art, not as pieces. But I will quote a few.
“The Blacker the Berry”
“The blacker the berry
The sweeter the juice”
I am midnight and berries
I call the silver stars at dusk
By moonrise they appear
And we turn berries into nectar
Because I am dark the moon and stars
shine brighter
Because berries are dark the juice is sweeter
Day couldn’t dawn without the night
Colors, without black, couldn’t sparkle
quite so bright
“The blacker the berry
The sweeter the juice”
I am midnight and berries
What’s not to like about that? It is the perfect celebration of an embodiment that, for the past 500 years has been treated as lesser, less beautiful, less intelligent, less worthy. It is, in an age-appropriate way, a giant middle finger extended to the small-minded white supremacist culture and system we live in.
The next one has a lovely word play, which we of course discussed.
“Night Shade”
I feel as purple
As the night shade
Of an eggplant
That great berry among berries
Smooth skinned
And as stained and sweet
As my fingers
After rinsing boysenberries
I am a firm believer in introducing children to poetry. With my kids, at least a few take after me (and one takes after my wife, who, despite being able to write excellent poem analyses, doesn’t have an emotional connection to poetry.) This book is one that will work for kids in elementary school on up, I think.
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