Speaker 1: New green was peeking from the winter earth. The birds,
Speaker 1: who had not scattered to the forests after the first detonations,
Speaker 1: kept to their early spring rituals. Like us. They were
Speaker 1: beginning to sing their spring songs and were making new ones.
Speaker 1: We could not let the war steal everything that was
Speaker 1: Joy Hard Joe, Native American poet, author, and musician, reading
Speaker 1: from her latest poem, called an Ordinary Morning. She was
Speaker 1: moved to write it after seeing photos of the devastation
Speaker 1: in Ukraine, but its subject is wider grief, loss, death,
Speaker 1: and making sense of the world. I'm a land ververe
Speaker 1: and this is Seneca's one hundred Women to Hear. We're
Speaker 1: bringing you one hundred of the world's most inspiring and
Speaker 1: history making women you need to hear. Joy Hard Joe
Speaker 1: recently concluded her third term as Poet Laureate of the
Speaker 1: United States, the first Indigenous person to hold that position.
Speaker 1: She has won numerous awards for her work, which includes
Speaker 1: nine books of poetry, two children's books, and an anthology
Speaker 1: of Native women's writing. Her most recent book is A
Speaker 1: Poet Warrior, a poetic memoir. Listen and learn why Joy
Speaker 1: Hard Joe is one of Seneca's one Women to hear.
Speaker 1: I'm speaking today to Indigenous poet and the former Poet
Speaker 1: Laureate of the United States, Joy Hard Joe. Welcome, Joy.
Speaker 1: It is a thrill to have you with us. Well,
Speaker 1: it's good to be here now. You've just finished your
Speaker 1: third term as Poet Laureate for the United States. This
Speaker 1: is a high honorific position, one in which you work.
Speaker 1: It's not just a title. And you're the only Indigenous
Speaker 1: poet Laureate in the United States, at least so far.
Speaker 1: What was the experience like and how do you feel
Speaker 1: about leaving the position? What was it like to be
Speaker 1: the Poet Laureate. I guess the first thing I want
Speaker 1: to say is that I'm not the only Native poet laureate.
Speaker 1: There are actually, I think right now about four or
Speaker 1: five state and community Native poet Laureates, which I think
Speaker 1: is really cool. But yes, I'm the first US Poet Laureate.
Speaker 1: And that's something you can't you don't apply for you
Speaker 1: can't apply for it. It's um, it's an honor and um.
Speaker 1: And I I reminded the staff that when we were
Speaker 1: in the middle of it, and I was doing all
Speaker 1: this work, and I said, wait a minute, you said
Speaker 1: there were there were no set obligations of this position.
Speaker 1: And then we would laugh because of course we all
Speaker 1: have obligations, you know, in this I think we all
Speaker 1: have obligations of citizens of the earth, and citizens of
Speaker 1: the country, and of our communities and in our families.
Speaker 1: I mean, that's just part, that's just part of the
Speaker 1: story that we take on when we take our when
Speaker 1: we take our first breath. But to be named, it's
Speaker 1: something you don't expect. And I always, I always remember
Speaker 1: that morning. I had an odd feeling and I knew,
Speaker 1: you know, Rob Casper and who works at the Library
Speaker 1: of Congress at the Poetry and Literature Center and runs that,
Speaker 1: and he had sent a funny little note that said, um,
Speaker 1: I have a quick question. Of course you know. They
Speaker 1: also the center also runs a national book festival, and
Speaker 1: I had a book coming out. But when I got
Speaker 1: on the phone with a doctor Carla Hayden, who is
Speaker 1: the Librarian of Congress, you know, it's not a presidential appointment.
Speaker 1: It's by the Librarian of Congress. Just f y I
Speaker 1: for everyone. And uh, she asked if I would be,
Speaker 1: you know, be the U S Poet Laureate. It was
Speaker 1: like like it felt like lightning. And I didn't know
Speaker 1: what to say it first, because I was running through
Speaker 1: my mind quickly before I had it was like, oh
Speaker 1: my god, I'm already so busy. That was the first thing.
Speaker 1: But it was just like I was astounded. I mean,
Speaker 1: I I almost I said, yes, of course, you know,
Speaker 1: because it became I think one of the most important
Speaker 1: things that came out of it was that I the
Speaker 1: position and me being in that, assuming that and taking
Speaker 1: on the responsibility of that position meant that a huge
Speaker 1: doorway had opened for Indigenous people, a huge doorway of
Speaker 1: awareness of images, of possibilities. And it resounded the position
Speaker 1: and that a Native woman was in it resound dude
Speaker 1: throughout Indian country, and I think throughout the country too,
Speaker 1: in an odd kind of way, because you know, the history,
Speaker 1: of course with the United States and Natives is very problematic, convoluted,
Speaker 1: and so often the way that we're dealt with is
Speaker 1: in um. You know, we've we get disappeared from the
Speaker 1: national conversation. So what this position did was UM made
Speaker 1: a place so to speak, and to to serve has
Speaker 1: been UM, we're all fit here to serve. And this
Speaker 1: allowed me to serve in a way that um in
Speaker 1: a larger yet, I guess with a larger um recognition,
Speaker 1: not just for me, but for indigenous people's. Did you
Speaker 1: do a lot of travel in the position. Give us
Speaker 1: a sense of how it changed your life, well, the
Speaker 1: recognition did. I mean, I've worked for years and I
Speaker 1: had a reputation, but I became a lot more any
Speaker 1: any appearance. You know, there was a lot more. Uh,
Speaker 1: there was a lot more coming at me. And no,
Speaker 1: you know what happened most of my The reason I
Speaker 1: got a third term, there were two of us that
Speaker 1: have been had third terms in the position and the
Speaker 1: reason that I got a third term was because of
Speaker 1: COVID out right pandemic. And so actually I didn't even
Speaker 1: and so even into that third term, we were still
Speaker 1: dealing with COVID, So I didn't get I didn't travel
Speaker 1: quite as much as as much as other poet laureates
Speaker 1: because we were, you know, mostly often in lockdown, and
Speaker 1: so I traveled a lot on virtual I did many
Speaker 1: many virtual events. But I you know, the travel has
Speaker 1: come just to tail in my my position end at
Speaker 1: the end of April, and I was traveling as soon
Speaker 1: as it opened up, as soon as the world opened up,
Speaker 1: or at least this country I was traveling. I've been
Speaker 1: traveling quite a bit lately. But it's conceivable that even
Speaker 1: virtually you were reaching many, many people, perhaps even more
Speaker 1: than you would have had you been able to physically
Speaker 1: travel more. Yes, I think that's true. And often because
Speaker 1: I didn't have to travel to an event, it um
Speaker 1: I had several Often during a week, I'd have several
Speaker 1: virtual performances scheduled, and I hit a point a couple
Speaker 1: of times, once in the fall and once in the
Speaker 1: spring of burnout. Yeah. Yeah, it takes a lot out
Speaker 1: of you. Yeah, yes, so I I prefer in person.
Speaker 1: There's nothing can replace that, because a performance is is
Speaker 1: not just the performer. The performance is a place, it's
Speaker 1: a time, it's the people. You know, it's a combination. Well,
Speaker 1: given that, I wonder if you would read a short
Speaker 1: excerpt from your most recent book, Poet Warrior. You can't
Speaker 1: see all your listeners, obviously, but I'm sure they would
Speaker 1: be excited to hear from an excerpt. You know what
Speaker 1: I thought I would do instead, if you don't mind,
Speaker 1: is I have a new poem. Oh great, that was
Speaker 1: published just published in The New Yorker and the poem
Speaker 1: actually came from watching. It's called ecrastic, meaning you know,
Speaker 1: it takes its its origin. Its origin story is from
Speaker 1: a New York Times image of where bombs had just
Speaker 1: hit a hit a park in in um Ukraine, and
Speaker 1: there was a park bench and a loaf of bread
Speaker 1: with snow on it. This was early on, and underneath
Speaker 1: the park bench with some blood and there were two
Speaker 1: people there. So in this poem, I didn't know what
Speaker 1: to do. I mean, I don't know what to do
Speaker 1: with the with the grief of like miss Singing, murdered
Speaker 1: Native women, the grief that goes, you know, in this country,
Speaker 1: the trauma, the historical trauma that that continues, you know,
Speaker 1: with all of these stories like Briana Taylor and and so.
Speaker 1: Because so I write poetry, I write music, and I
Speaker 1: sat with that image and it was just so startling.
Speaker 1: I just started writing. And I didn't know what this
Speaker 1: was going to turn into, because sometimes I start writing
Speaker 1: it might turn into a song. I am actually going
Speaker 1: to turn this into a song. I've decided yesterday it
Speaker 1: might turn into a song, it might turn into like
Speaker 1: a short essay. Um, I didn't know. But it was
Speaker 1: just published in the New Yorker. Yes, it's called an
Speaker 1: ordinary morning. We left for the park a little later
Speaker 1: than usual. My old father and I, though we knew
Speaker 1: the war was honest. Blood hunger has an endless stomach.
Speaker 1: I wanted to keep the morning from its mouth. He
Speaker 1: needed his walk to soften his joints, and we had
Speaker 1: a daily appointment with the birds. New green was peeking
Speaker 1: from the winter earth. The birds, who had not scattered
Speaker 1: to the forests after the first detonations, kept to their
Speaker 1: early spring rituals. Like us. They were beginning to sing
Speaker 1: their spring songs and were making new ones. We could
Speaker 1: not let the war steal everything in the park. My
Speaker 1: old father, hobbled by an older war, by worries over
Speaker 1: the evil let loose among us, found joy in watching
Speaker 1: the children, feeding the birds, and telling the stories he
Speaker 1: never tired of. And for us, who loved him well,
Speaker 1: those old stories made a circle of knowledge and affection.
Speaker 1: We bought a loaf of bread. The bakers stayed on
Speaker 1: to help keep the ritual of our lives fastened into place.
Speaker 1: Our genealogies of bones are stacked in the graveyard and
Speaker 1: live in the stories we shared this morning, the baker
Speaker 1: and us, we will go on, even if there is
Speaker 1: only one standing in a sea of blood and loss,
Speaker 1: one who will tell the story of who we were
Speaker 1: and how we fought for an ordinary warning like this one.
Speaker 1: When the earth was beginning to wake from its cold season,
Speaker 1: Old father, you tore off a piece of bread for
Speaker 1: the birds gathered at your feet. They knew to find
Speaker 1: us here, this part bench, this prayer of blessing for
Speaker 1: the continuum of living. The fire took you first, Old Father.
Speaker 1: I was stunned. The sun exploded. Then I was gone,
Speaker 1: following you is away. I always did first with my eyes.
Speaker 1: Then when I learned to toddle, a bird with bread
Speaker 1: crumbs in its beak fled to the top of the
Speaker 1: closest standing tree. My mother, your wife was a girl again.
Speaker 1: Then you left the wedding feast. As you walked hand
Speaker 1: in hand to begin a story. I was the thought
Speaker 1: in the shape of a spring flower emerging from a
Speaker 1: blood soaked earth. How we live and lived and lived
Speaker 1: and loved our living. We did not want to let
Speaker 1: it go. That's so profound, so beautiful, senecas one hundred
Speaker 1: women to hear will be back after the short break.
Speaker 1: So listening to that poem I wonder who are the
Speaker 1: poets who have inspired you? Are there some who have
Speaker 1: inspired you the most? And why is that the case?
Speaker 1: I've always loved lou Bordehees Luis Bordees, his stories and
Speaker 1: his poetry. He was from Argentina and I liked I've
Speaker 1: always liked the sense of myth and mystery and how
Speaker 1: it connects to draw to the every day. And also
Speaker 1: the poetry of les Le Soko. And she wasn't known.
Speaker 1: She's not known as a poet. She's a fiction writer,
Speaker 1: novelist from Laguna Problem, but I knew her first through
Speaker 1: her poetry. And again, I guess thinking about it, I
Speaker 1: also like the way that the mythological world is absolutely
Speaker 1: married to the corporeal. Well, you began writing poetry in
Speaker 1: your twenties, around the same time that the Native rights
Speaker 1: movement was also soaring. What do you think came first
Speaker 1: the desire to make change or the desire to create?
Speaker 1: Or is it even possible to separate those two? Yes,
Speaker 1: as you were asking that question, I was thinking, how
Speaker 1: in the world do you separate it? Because maybe the
Speaker 1: urge to write comes about for the urge to be changed,
Speaker 1: you know, first within ourselves and in that change and
Speaker 1: in that awakening or the various coming of ages that
Speaker 1: we each go through. You know, it's all, it's all together.
Speaker 1: But I've I've come to understand that at this point
Speaker 1: in my life that I've always been motivated by healing,
Speaker 1: in the need to heal, and by the need for justice.
Speaker 1: M Well, those are two really important of life's matters.
Speaker 1: I think it's true that you come from a family
Speaker 1: of artists. You've described that there being many Native artists
Speaker 1: in your childhood community. How did that kind of upbringing
Speaker 1: influence you and your own desire to create art? Well,
Speaker 1: it became something that was just part of your natural world.
Speaker 1: It wasn't you know, artists or some are people far away,
Speaker 1: but you know, it was just part. You know, I
Speaker 1: drew constantly. I was always making art and I my
Speaker 1: mother wrote songs. I had paintings of my grandmother on
Speaker 1: the wall, and it was just the creation. Art of
Speaker 1: art could be associated with breathing. However, I didn't one
Speaker 1: thing we didn't have that. I didn't grow up with
Speaker 1: poets or at least book my mother, I guess you
Speaker 1: can see her. She was a songwriter, a lyricist, you know,
Speaker 1: So there you are well. It took Yeah, yeah, it did.
Speaker 1: But I'm convinced that we're you know that each you know,
Speaker 1: each family, each nation, you know, each entity comes in.
Speaker 1: We're part of a larger field of I call it
Speaker 1: the story field, so that you know that a family,
Speaker 1: you know, a great you know, the stuff, the stuff
Speaker 1: of your direction of your life is all kind of
Speaker 1: built in. Can we talk a little bit about your
Speaker 1: being a musician. You had mentioned you didn't know that
Speaker 1: beautiful poem you just read to us that you might
Speaker 1: turn it into music. You mentioned your mother there was
Speaker 1: a musician. You are a musician. Tell us a little
Speaker 1: bit about that and why it's important in your life.
Speaker 1: I've always loved music and and dance, and particularly you
Speaker 1: know then dance and and rhythm and so on. And
Speaker 1: I grew up, of course with in Tulsa, with you know,
Speaker 1: hearing a lot of the country swing bands, and then
Speaker 1: all of the rock and roll and R and B
Speaker 1: and everything that that I grew up with. But it's
Speaker 1: um I was in. I took a few years of band,
Speaker 1: I played clarinet, and then in junior high I walked
Speaker 1: away from it because I um the band teacher wouldn't
Speaker 1: let girls play saxophone. So yes, it was like that,
Speaker 1: and and some people still have attitudes and um. Then
Speaker 1: at around the same time, my stepfather forbid me to
Speaker 1: sing in the house and and he'd also when when
Speaker 1: he came into our family, the music stopped and I
Speaker 1: walked away. And I think poetry it was a way
Speaker 1: because it was the way to find my way back
Speaker 1: to it. Because if you look at the origins of
Speaker 1: poetry and any culture, you will always find it in
Speaker 1: the origin story. Hanging out with music and with dance. Beautiful,
Speaker 1: And now speaking of of your poetry, you have really
Speaker 1: sought to explore the personal Native national histories. What's the
Speaker 1: part of history that more non Native Americans should know about?
Speaker 1: And why I think you brought up something just now
Speaker 1: that you know it helps me understand that the reason
Speaker 1: so much of my voice it's so personal people will
Speaker 1: you know, they make that comment frequently about my work,
Speaker 1: and it's not about me, it's I think I came
Speaker 1: to that when I started, not even necessarily consciously, but
Speaker 1: I wanted people to know that we were human beings
Speaker 1: and that you know, was a Native when we were
Speaker 1: all there are all kinds and we weren't all the same.
Speaker 1: And I remember when I was young, when I was
Speaker 1: a young woman at at the University of New Mexico
Speaker 1: and coming into this national political consciousness, which was also
Speaker 1: personally and a perfect you know, it's at all levels.
Speaker 1: I I remember saying to myself that if I do
Speaker 1: anything else, by the end of my life, I want
Speaker 1: Native peoples to be seen as human beings. Well, you're
Speaker 1: certainly making a difference. And given everything that's going on
Speaker 1: in the world today, what makes you optimistic? What makes
Speaker 1: me optimistic is watching the young people coming up, the
Speaker 1: young poets, you know, Native and non Native, the young poets,
Speaker 1: the young theater people, the young creative artists, young musicians,
Speaker 1: watching them, you know, the light, watching them develop, the
Speaker 1: light they bring in with them. Joy Hard Joe, what
Speaker 1: a thrill to be able to speak with you today,
Speaker 1: former poet Laureate of the United States. Just terrific. Thank you.
Speaker 1: Thank you so much too for having me on your podcast.
Speaker 1: How lucky we are to have the poems and music
Speaker 1: of Joy Hard Joe to help us through these challenging times.
Speaker 1: There are three things I took from that conversation. First,
Speaker 1: Joy's life and work remind us why all people's voices
Speaker 1: need to be heard. Joy says that when she was
Speaker 1: named the first Native American Poet Laureate, it also opened
Speaker 1: a huge doorway for Indigenous people. It brought awareness of
Speaker 1: a population that had disappeared from the national conversation. Second,
Speaker 1: Joyce art allows us to see Native Americans for who
Speaker 1: they are, As she says, I wanted people to know
Speaker 1: that we are human beings, We are all kinds, and
Speaker 1: we aren't all the same. Finally, with every poem and
Speaker 1: every song, Joyce shows us that art can be a
Speaker 1: powerful tool in the pursuit of both healing and justice.
Speaker 1: Tune in next time to learn about our next featured
Speaker 1: woman and discover why she's one of Seneca's one Women
Speaker 1: to Hear. Seneca's one hundred Women to Hear is a
Speaker 1: collaboration between the Seneca Women Podcast Network and I Heart Radio,
Speaker 1: with support from founding partner Pung. Have a Great Day,