Grand Ballroom, Hilton Chicago | March 1, 2012

Episode 40: Nikki Giovanni: A Cave Canem Legacy Conversation

(Nikki Giovanni, Thomas Sayers Ellis, Alison Meyers) Called the Princess of Black Poetry in her early career, Nikki Giovanni has for four decades engaged deeply with the political and the personal. A popular poet whose versatile work inspires and challenges both adults and youth, she has received over twenty honorary degrees and numerous literary awards. Following Ms. Giovanni's brief reading, Thomas Sayers Ellis will conduct a wide-ranging conversation with the distinguished poet who declares, "Writing is... what I do to justify the air I breathe."

Published Date: May 30, 2012

Transcription

Speaker 1:

Welcome to the AWP Podcast series. This event originally occurred at the AWP Conference in Chicago on March 1st, 2012. The recording features Nikki Giovanni, Thomas Sayers Ellis, and Alison Myers. Now you'll hear Alison Myers provide an introduction.

Alison Myers:

Welcome everyone. Thanks so much for being here. It's my great privilege to introduce today's program, a Legacy Conversation with Nikki Giovanni. Established in 2001, Cave Canem's Legacy Conversations highlight the lives thought and art of preeminent poets and scholars who have played historic roles in African-American poetry. We are deeply gratified that Nikki is adding her voice to a series that documents essential literary and cultural history with a career that has spanned five decades and seen the publication of over 15 volumes of poetry and additional 12 collections for children, including the perennially popular Ego-Tripping and Other Poems For Young People and numerous other works, including recordings, essays, and anthologies. Nikki remains one of the country's most influential poets. Her wide-ranging, ever evolving, engaged art enlarges and enriches the American canon. She has received many awards in accolades, including multiple NAACP Image Awards, the Langston Hughes Award for Distinguished Contributions to Arts and Letters, the Rosa Parks Women of Courage Award, and over 20 honorary degrees from colleges and universities around the country.

She's a professor at Virginia Tech where she does visionary work. In his interview today, Thomas Sayers Ellis will ask Nikki to reflect on her achievements, challenges, aspirations, poetics, and history. Like Nikki, Thomas' poetry engages with the contradictions and inequities of American life, while also celebrating transformational possibilities and love. His debut volume, The Maverick Room received the Mrs. Giles Whiting Writers Award and the John C. Zacharis First Book Award. About his second full length collection, Skin Inc.: Identity Repair Poems, Robin D.G. Kelly has said, "Ellis has something to say about the moment we're in. And he is that rare breed of poet, the kind whose works will be studied for generations to come." A professor of creative writing at Sarah Lawrence College and a faculty member of the Lesley University low residency MFA program, Thomas co-founded the seminally important Dark Room Collective. Nikki will begin the program with a 15-minute reading, after which she will join Thomas for a lively 40-minute conversation. Please join me now in welcoming two brilliant poets of our time, Nikki Giovanni and Thomas Sayers Ellis.

Nikki Giovanni:

Thank you very much. I'm totally delighted to be here. I've been walking on air lately because we at Virginia Tech, it started because of a sadness. Slade Morrison died. And when Slade died, we were trying to figure out something to do with Toni because you just don't expect to lose a kid. And Toni was being very sad, of course. And I went down to see Maya because we had done the Lucille Clifton reading, and Maya wasn't able to join us through a misunderstanding as it turned out. And so I went down to see Maya and I said, "What can we do for Toni?" And she said, Maya's got that, "I did something. I had a dinner for Toni." And I said, "Yeah, but you didn't invite me, Maya." So

You have to call them out sometime. I love her. And I said, "No, what are we going to do? Because it is not something that I wanted to do, but something I thought we should do. If it was just me, it'd just be Ego-Tripping, everybody say, Nikki crazy. But if we put together..." You know us, I love black people, but I know us. And so what we were doing is Maya and I, with our good friend and sister in Chicago and Joanne Gabbin, who is the creator of the Furious Flower Poetry Center. We needed Joanne because Joanne is organized and neither Maya and I are. So we put that together and we thought, "Well, let's do it." So I went up to ask Toni what would she think about us doing something?

You recall, and I know we all do, that at the beginning of Sula, which is one of my favorite novels, the dedication says "It is sheer good fortune to miss someone before they're gone." And we thought, let us let Toni know that we love her before she's gone. If something would happen to Toni, something happened to Maya, then we would all be standing around and saying, "Oh, didn't you love that line?" Or "Remember when she said." So I thought, "Well, why not just do it while she's there?" And we were going to have it at Wake Forest because that's Maya's home and we thought it'd be easier. But Maya made the decision that would be actually, and she had a good point, it would be easier for her to take that really great bus of hers and come to Virginia Tech.

And since Virginia Tech is an engineering college, I said to my chief engineer, "I want a lift." We're now calling it the Morrison Lift. I know that they'll make a fortune out of it, Toni, and I'll be broke and old and they'd be selling the lift, because that's what white folks do, but it's all right. It's perfectly all right. And as most of us know, it's not a secret, maya is needing oxygen, so we're going to run the oxygen under so we can run it up so that she can have that available. We intend to take very good care of the ladies. I'm saying this here because we are writers in this room. And of course we are thrilled. I know some of us will be reading with us, some of us have committed to reading with us. And anybody that wants to come, because we could not possibly afford to put Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou on stage together. It had to be free. If the girls are free, then everything else is free. So it is a first come first serve in terms of ticket.

We should be up on the web by May, sometime in May you should be able to come to Virginia Tech and you should see it. And we're hoping that people join us because why wouldn't we have this joyous celebration of these two iconic ladies while they are both here to hear the applause. So I just wanted to share that. I've just been thrilled about it and I just wanted to share that. Oh, Ms. Finney just reminded me I didn't give the date. The date is Tuesday because we are a football powerhouse and I learned you must never do anything on football days. As we all know, Thursday night football, Friday night, high school, Saturday night, college, Sunday night, NFL, Monday night, NFL leaving us with Tuesday or Wednesday.

So we're doing it on Tuesday so that the football kids don't have to get ready for Thursday. So it's Tuesday, October 16th, 2012 in Blacksburg, Virginia. And I hope to see everybody. I really, really do. I'm also doing something else because I literally woke up one morning and it was one of those Trading Places moments. Remember when Trading Places when Dan Aykroyd woke up and he goes like, "Hog bellies." Or something like that? Well, I woke up one morning and went "Ruby Dee." Because I had the book. This is the reading of the 100 African-American, the 100 best African-American Poems.

But I cheated. And I cheated because if I had only done 100 African-American poets, I would've started with actually Phyllis Wheatley dropped down into Dunbar, Du Bois, to Paul Lawrence Dunbar, run through the Renaissance because you get a hundred from Langston if you're not careful and run out on the...I'd been right there at the end with Imamu Baraka, and if I really pushed it, maybe Tupac Shakur, but that'd be it. And I thought, "No, there's a reason, as we all know that church has Sunday school." If you don't have Sunday school, you're not going to have church. So I really didn't want to find a way to bring the young people in. So I just decided the fourth of this book is going to be young people, no matter what.

I know you already say, "Well, Nikki, how do you know they're the best?" My question is, "How do you know they're not?" I had 10 people in this book who have never been published before. And again, you just have to keep opening these doors. And some of you will find yourself in a position you're doing anthologies and you'll be saying to yourself, "Well, I was told." "If you only do what you were told to do in the words of the great Stevie Wonder, you haven't done nothing." You have to find a way to make it your own. And so what I have in this book of the 100 Best African-American Poems is 211 poems.

But I wanted to do a reading because I wanted the kids to be able to hear. And so we did. We invited Ruby Dee, who was my soro and one of America's great actresses down in [inaudible 00:09:12], Viola. Aren't you heartbroken, speaking of great actresses? I'm in a good mood, okay? But... No, I am. I just couldn't believe USA Today could actually have a headline to say that Meryl Streep, who is a nice person, but Meryl Streep is overdue? She's the most decorated actress in America. She had 17 nominations, two Academy Awards. She's overdue, but Viola's not? Kind of crap is that? People wonder why you get tired of white people. That makes you crazy. It makes you crazy. Viola was totally brilliant in that film, just totally brilliant.

And somebody should be ashamed because Meryl Streep said Viola is the best, that's all she could do. She couldn't vote but one time, so no matter what. But it just made me crazy. But I wanted Ruby. And so I called her and I said, "Ruby, what would it take to get you to come to Virginia Tech?" And she, for those of you know, "Just ask." And so I did. That's a good Ruby. I did. And then I called up my good friend and one of America's great Broadway actresses, Novella Nelson, and I said, "Novella, Ruby's coming down. Will you come down?" And so Novella's like, "Oh, Ruby's coming? I'll come." I said, "Okay, good." So I have that. I ask our president at Virginia Tech, Charles Steger. And Charles likes me, but you know how people see you and you can see that they're trying to turn around quickly like they didn't see you?

He does that. He was walking down the sidewalk. And I thought, "There I got him." And I could see him trying to turn and he just goes, I said, "Dr. Steger, will you read?" And he said, "Okay, I'll read. Ask..." Well, his girl is Sandy. He said, "Tell Sandy to put it on the cover." And I did. And then the next day I went back and I said, "Dr. Steger, Ruby Dee is coming." Now, you know how long this man has known me? 24 years. I maybe not as big as Ruby Dee, but damn it, I'm a star.

And I said, Ruby Dee. And he's like, "Ruby Dee is coming to our campus? What can I do?" I mean, and it's like, wow. I mean, okay, I accept that you have to know your place. But we went into the studio and we recorded, all of us who you see here made this a part of the recording. And again, it's something that for those of you who don't have it, and especially those of you who are teaching poetry, I think it's wonderful because we get these various voices. Black poetry is not just about black people and it's not just for black people. So we have black and white men and women. We have a variety of things. The only thing that Ruby wanted was Gwendolyn Brooks. She said, I want to read Gwendolyn Brooks. So you know that everybody wanted to read Gwendolyn Brooks.

And I did. I'm a good producer, and I said, "You can read Gwendolyn Brooks if your name is Ruby Dee, and if not, you can't." Novella is reading Tupac. And she does an incredible, incredible job with doing that. Charles, of course, being the president of Virginia Tech starts our program, starts this program with the iconic Langston Hughes, The Negro Speaks Of Rivers. And I could think of no one better to read, "My soul has grown deep like the rivers." Than the president of our university, because you are aware of the tragedy that Virginia Tech befell or that befell Virginia Tech. So I have now used up most of my time, but I wanted to share this.

"I'm a native Tennesseean, I was born there. During the age of segregation when you couldn't go to the same amusement park or the same movie theater, when the white guys would cruise up and down the streets and call out to you, when the black guys were afraid of being lynched. But we went to church each Sunday and we sang a precious song and we found a way not to survive. Anything can survive, but to thrive and believe and hope. I'm a native Tennessean and I was born there, but I was only two months old when my mother and father moved my sister and me to Cincinnati during the age of segregation, when Dow Drug Stores wouldn't serve us, when neighborhoods were redlined, but at least mommy could get a job teaching and daddy could get a job behind a desk. And after all, if you are a college graduate, that's the least you can expect. Though the Pullman porters took us southeast summer and watched over us with an unfailing faith and got us from there to here.

I'm from Knoxville, Tennessee. I was born there. In the only state in rebellion that didn't have to undergo reconstruction. In the volunteer state that sent as many from one side as another. In an area where if I just have to have a car break down, I would prefer any holler to any city neighborhood. But there was no work and no way. And the chronic angers that flared would chase us to Ohio. We were not [inaudible 00:13:41] crossing the river, just four people. Two in love and two who were loved. Who needed to put a rest to the rage, but the rage stayed and someone had to go. I chose me. But I was born there. So the going was a coming.

I'm a native Tennesseean. I take no joy in Davey Crockett, no, Jim Bowie. They were wrong to be at the Alamo, they were wrong to fight for that theft. I love James Agee. I love Thunder Road, though I, a native Tennessean was not allowed to play a bit part when the crew came to town to film the movie. Ingrid Bergman and Anthony Quinn came to take A Walk in the Spring Rain. And despite it all, I like Andrew Jackson, at least he knew the big guys were wrong.

I'm a Native Tennessean. I graduated Fisk University in Nashville. I know that the freedmen paid for that school. Nobody gave them anything. Pennies and nickels and prayer and determination, the freedmen paid for it and many others. I know the American Missionary Society was wrong. They took that money that the Jubilee Singers made to save Fisk and used it for other purposes. I was educated by the singers of those songs, I love those songs. How could I not love Nashville? How could I not love Dinah Shore? Who invited the Jubilee Singers to sing at the Grand Ole Opry, then had to hear the rumors. She sang on, sang until she saw the USA in her Chevrolet. I once saw her on a plane. I was going to the cabin. She was in first class. I said, "Hey." She smiled and said, "Hey, back." When I got Georgia on my mind, I rode the Chattanooga Choo Choo to Lookout Mountain.

I saw Memphis and was enchanted. From the mighty Mississippi gracefully turning all red to Beale Street beats at midnight. All those blues from so many bloods that decided to turn my blues to Memphis Gold, W.C. Handy, Bobby "Blue" Bland, B.B. King, the late great Johnny Ace, stacks and stacks of music, American music. The Athens of the South held Tennessee music, but Memphis put the tears to the lonely and crossed over. Everybody wants to rock to my rhythm. I am Memphis. I heard the shots that took Martin. I know who killed the King. I'm a native Tennessean. I know what it is to be free. I am singing the country blues. I am whittling a wooden doll. I am underground mining cold. I'm running moonshine. I'm a white boy with a banjo native to West Africa. I'm a black boy with a twang native to the hills. I am smart. I am cool. I am unafraid. I am free. Yeah, I'm a native Tennesseean."

Thank you. I was invited and thrilled to be. So the Smithsonian, the National Portrait Gallery, is doing a retrospective, I guess it's the 150th year of the Civil War or something like that. And they invited 10 poems and I'm very pleased to be among them. I wrote a poem that I'd like to share. It's not up yet, but I think it's going to be okay. I know the title will have to change because I know you're not allowed to do titles like this in America. The title is Note to the South, You Lost.

People forget. "The buzz of the flies almost were a lullaby rocking the dead to a restful place. You couldn't hear the ants, so they were there, clearly there. In the eyes, the mouths, any wound or soft tissue. The worms had come. Understanding those which were not trampled would have a great feast. The grasses had no choice but to drink down the blood and bits of flesh that was ground into them. In the future, there would be girls, not field rats, who would follow the soldiers into the trenches. In the future, there would be single engine airplanes dropping bombs. And then in the scientific imagination of the 21st century, there would be men and women pushing buttons making war clean and distant. But today on this battlefield, the deadliest of this war, the songbirds had been frightened off. The turkey buzzards retreated to watch. Deer, skunk, raccoons, possum, groundhogs gathered to let the smoke clear. And only the moans of the almost dead and the quiet march of lice gave cadence to this concert of sacrifice for freedom."

And because little old ladies fall in love, I wanted to close on the love poem. And it's why for those of you who have grandmothers, you must call before you go. Everybody thinks you're just drop in on your grandmother, you're going to be surprised and shocked. That's the truth. I'm a nature lover. This is a poem called Migrations. "When the sun returns to the Arctic circle from its winter rest, the grass is sprout, seducing the winged and the hoofed. Polar bears and their cubs must flee before the ice breaks up. Although, others begin a northern journey, the snow goose flies from the Gulf of Mexico to mate and birth her young. 2 million Mongolian gazelle's move over the tundra where each gives birth at the same time, defying the will of the predators who would consume the gazelle's future.

Though, only of course, to provide nourishment for their own young predators, let's not judge too harshly. Salmon swim upstream jumping falls and grizzly bears. Grasshoppers ignoring the advice of ants, make music to celebrate Winter's Inn. Monarch butterflies, leaving the safety of Zihuatanejo forged north beginning the longest winged journey of spring with only the hope of warmth and the promise of grasses. They unflinchingly faced hunger, thirst, predators, winds, rains, uncertainties. As would I for you.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

So before I even knew who you were, I mean what you looked like, I knew your name. And we used to say in our church, "How does one get over?" And I think I know how you got over. And I want to put it in tradition, I want to say you have a great name. That's an amazing name. So I want you to hear your name from the audience really quickly. On the count of three. 1, 2, 3.

The audience:

Nikki Giovanni.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

The bomb. But a lot of the records say you were born with a junior at the end of your name. Now, I don't know, not in my family, any women who were born with the junior. And maybe that's sort like a common practice in some parts of the country. But what is it foreshadowing? Your parents were just creative? And your brother has an Ann?

Nikki Giovanni:

My girl, she's my sister. She was my sister. She's dead.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Oh, your sister.

Nikki Giovanni:

Gary Ann.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Gary Ann. Oh, so she has a Gary Ann. So how did you end up with junior? Does that even matter in the journey, so to speak?

Nikki Giovanni:

I don't think it matters, but I think that my father knew that if he wanted a junior, he better put it on. Name me after my mother put a junior on it, because that was going to be it for her. Yeah.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

I just wonder, because in the work, I have a book, a new book called Skin Inc. And you and Maya Angelou were writers who read over and over again when I was working on Skin Inc. And the thing I liked about, the thing that got into my system was the way you fight. And I know that Cassius Clay, when he became Muhammad Ali, had in his biography The Greatest, he said that "This is more difficult than fighting." Writing is fighting. And you're always fighting. You seem to always pick the big battles, the battles that matter in the work. Any of them stick out over the years? Anything or that you wish you hadn't fought for that you're glad you did fight for? What [inaudible 00:21:53]?

Nikki Giovanni:

I don't know. I worried about this conversation, Thomas. I did, because I'm only 68. And Melvin Tolson, who was a brilliant, brilliant writer says, "We judge the civilization in its decline." I had the extreme pleasure of being the host of Mr. Tolson when he came to Fisk University. And of course, my favorite Melvin Tolson line is, "When the skins are dried, the flies will go home." And it was his poem on colonialism. So when we considered doing a sit down, number one, Toni is an old friend, and so I definitely owed her a sit down. And I thought, "Well, I don't want to judge what I've done because I want to continue to do." And I like being on the edge, and there's some people in this room who know me well enough to know I like making mistakes. And then you figure out how you're going to handle them and just the shit that you go through in life.

And so I don't think that I've fought my best battle yet. I think that my best battle is yet to come. If this program that I'm planning fails, I did, I promised Dr. Steger I would resign, and he could tell everybody he fired me. Because I want artists to think bigger. And that means we have to take more chances. And we are putting more and more artists in the academy and they're becoming worried about their job, which doesn't make sense. And what the hell, you an artist, you're not supposed to have nothing. So you're not. So you have to go on. And I don't think I fight so many battles as I'm just fearless. Because the only thing that could happen to me is that, well, job wise, Tech fires me or something like that. And it won't be the first place that I got fired from.

Actually, I got fired from my first job. I was working for a councilman. So you can imagine what that was, in Cincinnati. And we have to do something because the world is being a sad place. And I just wanted to bring something joyful and meaningful with people that I love. And I really love Toni Morrison. So we were talking about Toni right now, and I'm lining up some things because if it does work, I know what I'm doing next. And I'll just keep doing it, and I'll die one day. And then somebody said, "Nikki, you know you died last week?" And I say, "Oh." Well, I don't think I should be the one to tell people I'm dead. You all have to tell me I'm gone. Somebody said, "Nikki, lay down now, you finished baby." And we'll go forward.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Well, I worried about this conversation too, because you've been interviewed a lot and there's not a lot of room left to get you differently. So that's what I'm going to do it. You see a lot of student work, you see a lot of work, you meet a lot of poets. You have a lot of people you probably, I think of poems as telephone conversations or exchanges. Is the fearlessness still alive? Is there room? Has the context changed here in America now or in the classroom? Is it fearlessness alive and well? Is it even necessary anymore? And if not, then again I see a lot of student poems here.

Nikki Giovanni:

Oh, I think that the kids are really good writers. I'm a big, big, big fan, right in here, I have my iPad. I'm a big fan of the electronic reader. I'm now reading a brilliant book. I'm actually rereading a brilliant book by Isabelle Wilkerson called The Warmth of Other Suns, which is just wonderful. And my object in the classroom actually is to get my white students to say we. I've just been working on it, because we were studying the Harlem Renaissance and Isabelle's book is our book. And I'm such a big fan, I'm trying to get her to Virginia Tech. But I'm trying to get our students to say, "We migrated."

And of course, that's very hard because they're white and they think that that wasn't a we. But it is a we. And I'm trying to get our black students to recognize that it is a part of us. I'm a big fan of slavery because this is virgin territory. It really, really, really is. And people think that they know something about slavery because we know what the slave owners have said about it. We do not know what the slaves have said about it. We have some songs which are incredible because it's the American voice. And of course, we have food. I mean, anybody that's sitting in this room thinks that Kentucky Colonel knew something about frying any damn thing is crazy.

We have a cuisine, and we know that these people not only survived, but thrived and became the voice. And so I'm saying to my students in terms of writing, number one, you have to look at these people with an incredible pride because look at what they did. And having survived 200 years of slavery, they end up in Jim Crow, which is enough to make you crazy. And of course everybody knew you could jump in the ribbon and swim over to Haiti or swim out to Cuba or something, but they chose to migrate within the United States to make this country live up to its promise.

And I think that that's an incredible spiritual thing that blacks have done for Americans. And I know people saying, "Oh, every time you see colored people, they just want to say they did everything." But we did. No, we're wonderful. And I think that everybody's going to be a lot happier when we embrace that wonderful, because then we can get to the other unknown in America, is frontier woman, who is totally unstudied. How does a white woman marry a white man, we know that history, and get in a covered wagon and head west? Think about it. You talk about faith. There's a idiot. What was he doing on Saturday? Lynching some negro. And then you are there giddy at, and you are hoping he's going to be better?

But your hope, we're just dealing with history here. I'm in a good mood. But your hope has made him better. And though it continues, and I'm not picking on white men because I think they're fantastic. White men and people say, "There's a moon up there." "Yeah I want to go." Any old damn thing, they'll do it. But what you want them to learn to do is to control those envys and those hatreds that they have. You want them to learn to squeeze it out. So we're all evolving, is what I'm saying. I think it's just incredible. And I think American Letters is not really all of this naval contemplation.

And I'm really, I'm tired of vampires and I'm tired of Merck. I am. And I don't envy Ms. Meyer or something like that. But damn what the vegetarian blood? What the hell is that? There's only one kind of blood. And I said, "Somebody's giving up their lives." You want to talk about vampires? Hey, how about slavery? If that isn't vampirism, I don't know what is. That's the truth, it absolutely is. So I'm just saying we have things to write about. And somebody said, "Well, Nikki, damn, if I write about that, I won't get a bestseller." But baby, you're not going to have a bestseller anyway. You can call it. Get over it. I just thought I'd mention that.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

I like you because you curse a lot.

Nikki Giovanni:

Oh, I don't curse. I mean, just damn or hell. I mean, I have cleaned up my act, so.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

In 1972, you received a doctorate from Wilberforce University and you walked up on that stage and said, "See what my motherfuckers got me?" I want to know, what did you mean by that?

Nikki Giovanni:

Well, that was very nice, Wilberforce Univer... I am a native Tennesseean as we know, but Wilberforce is our... I grew up in Cincinnati and Wilberforce is our city. It's the oldest black university now in the United States. And they I guess, the term was offered me honorary degree. And I was thrilled because my father and I have had many, many, many issues and I keep trying to work a lot of them through. But with it being so close, he was able to come to Wilberforce with me to see me receive my first degree. I said that simply because it's true, I could still be me. And that's what I'm saying.

I doubt that I would go to Smith College and say that because it is not that Smith doesn't deserve to hear motherfucker, it's just that that's not appropriate. And I'm appropriate. But it wouldn't be the same thing. No, Smith, I'll tell you what Smith did. My mother who's 4'11", this is a story, okay? 4'11", and she weighed about 90 pounds, really sweet. We went to Smith College, invited me up, Maya, Kay Graham, Katherine Graham, and a couple of other people. And we were doing this panel. And my mother was the only woman there who didn't have a fur coat.

And I looked around and I thought, "Uh-huh, no, this will not happen. My mother will not go and see women six feet tall. Maya is six feet tall, Kay Graham is six feet tall in fur coats down to the ground and she don't have one." We went back home Monday and I called the fur shop and I went down and I picked out all female furs. I didn't care how it was going to get paid for, I didn't care when, that my mother is going to have a fur coat. And she did. And I'm just sharing that because at Smith that's what I learned. And every time you learn something, you have to do it. I don't have that interest. I do now have a fur coat because I couldn't let my mother have a fur coat.

Well, that's tacky looking. I go in a sweater and say, "Oh, the bitch had to give a fur coat so her mother can have..." Can't do that. And I'm just saying this to the young people, there are things that you're just going to do no matter what anybody says. And she's going to have a Cadillac too because she's colored. And I thought, "Oh, no, no, that's my mother. She has to have a Cadillac." Of course, she now knows she's passed. But mommy's last car was of course a Peugeot. But you have to have a Cadillac, because you grow up hearing about Cadillacs and you can't afford them. And it's like, "No, that's my mother. She can have a Cadillac." Because I don't care about those things. It's amazing what I don't care about. Some of you in this room know me, but I'm not going to have my mother not have them, but every other mother has. And I don't want to hear it. So that's your story.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

And I know that you say, because she's colored, you make a distinction. Because we fail sometimes. We always say, "Oh, black is many things and blackness is many things." But sometimes in the aesthetic, in the work, in the aesthetic, in the work, in the poem, we don't make the distinction between a negro poem or colored poem or black poem or African-American poem, and it's just like, "Oh, it's me. So it's black." But can those distinctions be practiced and taught? Do they come from a specific place in an individual?

Nikki Giovanni:

Yeah. It's a good question. We were talking about, Toni and I, were talking about that at lunch. I don't know, I just don't think that anybody could maybe read me and not think somebody colored wrote that. And I don't know. And it's not just because you get a damn or hell or you pick on white people, they do something dumb. I think that there is just something that it should be you, the child that comes out of me, I have a son, but the child that comes out of me is going to be colored. You know that before you see the child, you don't know anything else, you know it is colored because it's coming out of me. And I think that the same is probably true of the work that we create. It's coming out of us. And I don't think you have to deny it. Somebody said, "Well, now what happens when you get a biracial or you get an American poem?"

But American poems are of color. We know that because this is not a white nation. This is a multicultural, multicolored nation. And anytime you go the multi, you have a color. Did I make sense? And I mean no... I'm not trying to put anybody down. I'm just saying the American experience is of color, and that's something that needs to be accepted, and it's something that needs to be embraced. And then we will find which color it is because there are colors within the colors. That's Ezekiel and "There's a wheel in a wheel." There are things within the thing. And that works for me, totally. It totally does. But I don't think it is just colored because it's about something, I think that it's who you are. And I think everybody ought to be able to be who they are and to be proud of who they are.

I think that's very important. I play with myself. Let me share this one too, just because we have an audience here. I'm always doing that. Right now, as you can see, last couple of years I've been blonde. And I went blonde, which is actually bleached because I had been diagnosed with cancer and I had an operation. I almost done this because it goes that way. But my left lung and two ribs were removed. So it goes without saying that I looked really bad. I mean, because it was a serious operation, I was in the hospital for a month.

I did not, speaking of my same mother, I did not want my mother to see me looking like that. Because I knew that it would distress her, because I had to look like I was near death, and I probably pretty much was. And so I was trying to think of what could I do that would make me look better? And of course, being black, if I go blonde, I pick up an instant tan. Yeah, you do. You just automatically, you look healthy and really cool. And I wanted to share that with my friends who are white because maybe they're going to have lung cancer one day. So this I share. If you who are white have lung cancer and you don't want your mother to think you look bad, braid your hair.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

That's-

Nikki Giovanni:

It's automatic. You look great. And everybody will notice something about you without knowing why. So I just thought I'd share that.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

And that's a good light-skinned person non-cancer move too.

Nikki Giovanni:

Yeah.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

It's like the moonwalk and passing mix. You brought it up.

Nikki Giovanni:

Yeah, it's great though.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

I love that. Speaking of Toni Morrison earlier, you once said that novelists from the '70s and '80s and '60s like Morrison and eventually Gloria Nayler, benefited from the audiences that poetry had prepared for them. Can you speak a little bit about? Because it happens again and again, it's cyclical.

Nikki Giovanni:

Sure. But we were senior. I mean, there's no question about that. We are, and saying we, I am speaking for, not me Nikki, but the poets. We are the children actually of Langston Hughes. And it was Langston who one, he couldn't drive. And everybody, even the people don't realize that it was Langston actually who said that the issue in the south will be joined on buses. And the reason, if you read Langston, you'll run into that essay. And the reason that he knew that is that he caught buses because nobody else did. But Langston also got a Rosenthal Foundation grant, and he did buy a car, but then he had to ask one of his friends to drive him because he never did learn to drive. But in Harlem particularly, Langston went around reading his poetry. He went into bars, he went into the Y, he went... And of course, every year he took a grand tour, which we do in sort of a modified way.

I'd love to recreate that tour at some point because he literally came down to St. Aug and then went over to Atlanta, stopped in Savannah, went over to Atlanta and went all the way out to California. He wintered in California and came back through that way. Which was good because it said, you can earn a living. And as I say, you're not going to get rich, it's not a poet in this room thinks they are. But you can earn a living and get your workout. Langston also taught us "Sell what you can and give the rest of it away." And he was right. So we were the children. So when black arts came up, and black arts, as we know it's finished because we can now define it, but when black arts came up, we were out reading, we read in Smalls Paradise, we read in Dickie Wells, we read in bars, we read every place.

And as we did, we were selling, we were selling for a dollar. And you are not making any money, but again, getting your workout, Liberty House in Harlem, Yvette LeRoy ran Liberty House. We had a couple of other bookstores. Of course, the iconic Michaux's Bookstore, which doesn't it just you off, that the state decides to build an office building, and the only place they can build an office building is in the oldest bookstore in America. That just makes you crazy. And everybody's lucky that black people are saner than we appear to be. Because you have all of those blocks in Harlem, all of those blocks, but they have to have 125th and 7th. "No, this is the only place we can build it." And that's what makes people angry and that's what makes us dislike people. And that was crazy what they did. They took Michaux's Bookstore out, and of course Mr. Michaux was, what, 96? But he died. And now of course Betty's gone. Lewis Jr., Lewis the Third rather is still around, but the bookstore is gone, and it was a great bookstore. So-

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Yeah, Michaux's Bookstore is great. I've only seen a photograph.

Nikki Giovanni:

There's a book out by the way, everybody, and it's called Lewis Michaux, and it's by his niece who lives in Arizona. And she did his biography and it's like a literary biography, but she talked to all of the people that are alive. So she talked to the people, Malcolm, because Malcolm hung around in the bookstore. And of course, she had the way that, for those of you who don't know Michaux Bookstore, it was wonderful. If you wrote anything, you wanted your book in Michaux's. So when my first book came out, Black Feeling, Black Talk, I drove up to New York and I used to carry the books around myself. I published my... And it's really funny, the publishing has now come back around. Because I published myself, I did self-publishing, and then I got out of that business came in.

So I had these, and I asked Mr. Michaux if he would carry the books, and he was like, "Yeah." And the book's selling for a dollar, so I'm losing money because I'm selling them at 30% discount. So I'm losing 30 cents every time I sell a book for a dollar, which was okay. I went back up to check in a couple of weeks or so, and Mr. Michaux said, "Giovanni." He called me Giovanni. "Giovanni, guess what?" And I said, "What Lewis?" He said, "Your book got stolen." And I said, "Oh, I am sorry." He said, "No, no, baby. That means they're reading you." So I was totally, totally thrilled.

And Mr. Michaux, well, I learned to appreciate people who steal books. And well, they want the book. And Mr. Michaux had coffee from the Black Star line, Marcus Garvey's, and he had it in the back. And only the really important people were ever invited. And after about a year, Mr. Michaux said, "Would you like to just stay around after the bookstore, after we close?" And I thought, "He's going to ask me if I want coffee." And I said, "Yeah, I have a little time." Because I was trying to be cool, and he made coffee and I had a cup of that iconic coffee. And it was just little things that make you know that, yes, this is a good profession. This is a nice thing to do. I really did. I loved that, I really did.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

That's a perfect segue. It's also the famous bookstore. You see Malcolm giving the speeches in front of the mural and all the famous photographs. Which segues just perfectly, you hated Spike Lee's, Malcolm X. You even take it to task, rewrite it for the most part at the beginning in Racism 101, which is, that's brilliant, right? That writing is from and it's cinematic, et cetera. Then did you stop watching Spike after that? Because then he made a film about lesbians who get knocked up by a black man who to make babies. Did you see that one? And he mixes in the Watergate. Did you see that? She Hate Me? No, you didn't see that. You've got to see it.

Nikki Giovanni:

I saw, which I really loved. Get on the Bus.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Yeah, Get on the Bus.

Nikki Giovanni:

And I appreciate it. Spike gave me a shout out. I thought that was wonderful. And I really loved 4 Little Girls. I thought that was just a brilliant film. And I liked Katrina the first Katrina. But I don't see that many movies. And I'm looking at Finney because she's an old friend and I haven't seen her in a long time, and she's in my sight. So if you wonder why I keep looking this way, it's just because she's there. But in the last three months, I saw more films than I have seen in the last five years. Because I seldom go to the movies. I sometimes buy them. But all of a sudden, well, you had Viola Davis, so you had to go see Viola. And then once you do that, you say, "Oh, I want to see Hugo. I want to see..." And you start to, and it's like, "Oh, movies are fun." I grew up in the age of segregation. And where I grew up in Knoxville, Tennessee, when I lived with my grandparents, the only theater you could go to was The Bijou.

And what you had to do was you go in the front and buy your ticket, and then you walk around back and then you walk up, up, up, up, up, up. It makes you crazy. I mean, just totally makes you crazy. And I learned to hate movies. And the big theater in town was called The Tennessean. And of course, I had total disdain for the Tennessean. Now, eight years ago, I was invited to give a poetry reading at the Tennessean. And of course I went, I would've gone if somebody cut both legs off, I would've popped in there. And of course, you see it and you see that it's just a theater.

And why would someone wake up in the morning and say, "We are not going to let colored people come in here." As if they were doing us a favor. But I learned to hate movies. And so I'm just now at 68 and I'm a grandmother, so that's good. Maybe I'd be able to take my granddaughter to a movie. Because I don't do movies very much, though I have been doing them lately, and I don't do amusement parks at all, because we could only go to amusement parks on Juneteenth.

And I thought, "No, there is no way that this is going to be fun. That this one day you're going to let me for the hard money, that hard earned money that I have, spend it with you because you want my money." And I don't do amusement parks. And of course, I grew up with Kings Island, and I did want my son to go. I didn't want my son to hate anything that I hate. And so I had friends that enjoyed amusement parks, and so he would go with Connie and the girls, but I hate shit like that. Roller coaster. You're scared to death any damn way, you peeing all over yourself and...

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

You called Denzel's Malcolm X a doofus. That was the word. Nobody's ever called Denzel a doofus on stage.

Nikki Giovanni:

Well, that was a doofus. Come on now, you saw the film. And it wasn't personal. And I love Denzel for a lot of reasons. I love The Great Debaters speaking of Melvin Tolson, and that was what that was about. But Denzel is just a good guy. I mean, there's just no... If Pauletta gets tired of him, she can call me. I will take him, and never look back. No, he's a good guy. But I just thought it was Malcolm X and Elijah Muhammad, and this is not Nikki fighting that battle, but these are two Tysons, is that the word? Tysons? T-I-T-A-N-S. These were two great men. And to reduce these differences in the way that it was done, it was a disservice to both men. No matter what you think about Mr. Muhammad, he's a great man. It takes a great man to pull a great organization together.

Malcolm obviously, is going to go beyond Mr. Muhammad. There's no question, he's going to see things and he's going to see things in a different way. What I regret is that others take advantage of these differences, to use it as an opportunity for violence to kill Malcolm, and then to try to blame... They did that, to kill Malcolm and try to blame Mr. Muhammad is the same as killing Tupac and trying to blame Biggie. And if you go for that kind of stuff, you spend all your life fighting with your friends and not knowing who the real enemy is. And so I resented the movie dealing with that. I resented the fact that Malcolm X only married one woman who happens to be my sorority sister, but that's not why, it's that she is, was. And Betty was a good woman. So why don't we get a scene where he kisses her? That's what I'm saying, because he married her, he loved her. They had six, four, how many girls do they have? Four girls. They had four children. So we know four times he kissed her.

Come on. It just was so unfair not to show him in love with this woman, because he was. Clearly, he was. And I got tired of that kind of, we miss the loveliness of that. And I had the occasion, which doesn't happen that often, and they try to avoid it. But we were down in Texas. I happened to be in Texas, well, I didn't happen to be in Texas. Finish your sentence, Nikki. When the Langston Hughes stamp came out, everybody wanted to be in Harlem and quite naturally. And so they needed somebody to be in Texas because the postmaster general was going to be in Texas.

So they called and said, "Nikki, will you go to Texas?" Well, somebody had to go. So it was not a big deal, and I went. Because I knew I also get to sit next to the postmaster general because he couldn't get away. And I said, you have to take advantage of these opportunities. And so I just said to him, "When are we going to get the Malcolm and Betty stamp?" And he goes, "Huh?" I said, "Shortly after we get the Gwendolyn Brooks and Margaret Walker stamp. Or do you think before?" I just thought I hadn't mentioned it to him, because I really hated the Malcolm stamp, because Malcolm was an incredibly good looking man as was Langston. And of course, the stamp is ugly.

But we need a Betty stamp with Malcolm because they were partners. We need a Gwen Brook stamp with Margaret because they were bookends in an incredible, we really do, an incredible, incredible period. We need a Coretta stamp with Martin, because she was a good partner to Martin, and she stood for a lot, and she was a strong woman. And I think, why don't we get these people on stamps? We need them on. Of course, we need a Tupac stamp. I mean, you know that we need a Tupac stamp because oh, that kid just stood for so much. So put a $5 Tupac stamp on there and see who buys it. I'll buy it. The hip hop generation, Jay-Z will buy 10,000 of them. Do it and give it to schools or do something with it.

But I just think we need to continue to honor the great people. And these people are great people. So why wouldn't we honor them with a stamp or something? Why wouldn't we do that? So if you're sitting next to the postmaster general, remind them of things. Because it's always fun to see them like, "Oh yeah, we have to think about that." I love it. I was in a good mood then. I usually am.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

You beat Barack yet? President Obama?

Nikki Giovanni:

No, I have not met the president.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

You said somewhere you said that, I think it was in a conversation with Margaret Walker in Poetic Equation, you say, "I hope that one day Africa means to blacks what Israel means to Jews."

Nikki Giovanni:

Jewish people.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Closer, farther away? Will it happen? Is it possible?

Nikki Giovanni:

Well, that book was written 20 years ago, and obviously now we have to consider that Israel, and I know more, and I'm not doing any disclaimers, but it's just so clear that earth is earth. And so it becomes less and less meaningful, at least to me, nationhood designations. And I'm a space freak, and I've gotten even more, we were laughing at lunch because I mean, I can Star Trek things. I just love it. I love Kirk and them. I do, I'm a big fan. But what leaves earth belongs to earth. There's no American satellite, there's no Chinese satellite, there's no Russian satellite, it's the earth. And I think the same way of being on earth. I'm a big fan of what we're calling now illegal immigrants. I think that borders are meaningless.

And what we need to know, the reason we need a border is so that we can know who we're looking for if we're looking for somebody. If somebody is hurt or somebody needs... That's all it is, it's a designation. So I'm not willing for any money of mine to go to Arizona or Texas or California or something to put some border up so that somebody's going to have to hurt themselves trying to get here. Because as long as we continue to send people out, people will continue to come in. And I think that's a good idea. I know immigrants are the salt and the stew, they're what makes it taste right. They're what brings it out. And they bring the energy and they bring a good thought. And somebody can say, "Well, they take our jobs." We take other people's jobs too. So I mean, I'm just not into that kind of mentality.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Before Def Jam, before Cave Canem, before the Dark Room, before Slam, before anything I've seen poets do in the sort of Broadway way, you and [inaudible 00:51:15] you went to Tonight Show, correct? There's no record of that on YouTube anywhere.

Nikki Giovanni:

No?

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

I'm looking for it. No, not at all. But what was that like?

Nikki Giovanni:

I had a dress on. I so seldom wear a dress, and I did that. My sister's like, "Oh, I couldn't believe you had a dress on." That was fun. I mean, I say yes to everything. I laugh because I am not wealthy at all. I earn a living. I'm not going to start with that and I don't even think like that. But I did think as I was trying to deal with legacy issues, actually, "What can I give back?" And so what I did was I started, and it is small because I just said it's worth about a million dollars now. But I started a little foundation, and you all know enough to know Bill Gates, and they have real foundation, but I started a low foundation. It's called, The Answer is Yes. And so it's because what I really, really like Lamar knows because he is my student at Virginia Tech. And what I started it for was so that we could buy wine.

I did. It's very important because Virginia Tech won't let you buy wine. So I thought, well, they will if I start a foundation there. And so that's what we did there. But it's all about, I'm trying to say, giving back something. And it just makes you happy when you can do... You can't do everything. I mean, I'm not a big number about any number of things. You have to know who you are and where you are in that thing, but it's just nice to be able to say yes. So I say yes to everything, and I always have. So when The Tonight Show called, I read Ego-Tripping, and when they called, I put on my dress, I bought a new pair of shoes, and I went and read. I had a little stupid dress. And I've done a lot of shows. I just did Bill Moyers recently, mostly because Jennifer, his wife is my fan, Bill didn't give a damn, but Jennifer like, "You have to have Nikki." "Okay, honey."

And so that's how we got it. But I enjoy it and I try to go. If you call me and say, "Nikki, we are having a reading in Timbuktu, you think you can make it?" I say, "Well, let me look." And I am just coming back from Greece, which I enjoyed. I'm too old. I should have done... Oh, you got to do grease in your 50s. I mean, I'm 68 and you're going up 45 degrees, right? So they never had to worry who's bringing up the rear because it was always Nikki. I mean, it is marvel. They lived way up because they were barbarians. I know that they said that they weren't, they're barbarians and they were way up so they could kill people coming down. And so if you want to go see it, you have to climb way up there.

It's really nice once you get up there, it really is. And you see the olive trees and really nice. But I would get up to the top and I'd be in a sweat. I lost like seven pounds in grease because just the walking just kills you. And I had my heavy boots on and stuff. One day it rained and I remembered that someone had broken their back, climbing up to the Acropolis, had slipped on one of those and broke their back. Well, I didn't want to break my back. Because in my age, I might as well shoot me. And so I had to walk very carefully. So I'm just saying for all of you that are thinking about Athens and Corinth and Sparta and all of that stuff, you have to go now. And you say, "Well, Nikki, I can't afford it." Well, what do you care? Charge it. And if you have a job, you'll get it. And if you don't, what the hell.

You have to go now, that's the truth. You do. It was great. I enjoyed it. And by the way, I've been in riots. There were no riots in Athens. Those were people who were just walking around saying things like, "We're sick of being screwed." But no, America has riots. You shoot people, the cops shoot back. People are throwing things, they're burning things. There was no riot. We were in Athens. We kept looking for like, "Where's the riot? Where's the riot?" And skinheads were there. I could read that. It said pit bull. So that's how you know they were the skinheads. Oh, I've seen skinheads in Germany. I've seen skinheads in Belgium. Those were serious skinheads. They would've taken just me going, I'm colored and beaten me. I've seen skinheads. These people are Mediterranean, the Greeks are Mediterranean. So their idea of we're having a riot is, "We don't like you." We were perfectly safe. I mean, my God.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

You say Columbia University still owes you a MFA.

Nikki Giovanni:

They do.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

And you also give advice in your book on campus racism, how to deal with it. Did you not have that kind of advice for yourself?

Nikki Giovanni:

I didn't.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

And look who's that told you they owe you a MFA, Richard who? Who's that?

Nikki Giovanni:

Oh, he was my... Richard Elman. We all know Richard Elman. He's such a great writer. Mr. Elman told me I couldn't write. Now, you're sitting there talking to somebody you know is a fool. He was... Well, you have to know. That's one thing my father did. He said, you have to know what a food looks like. Mr. Elman took me out to lunch and he said, "Nikki, we've been reading you and you're just not going to really be a writer. And I just thought I should let you..." I said, "Thanks, Rich. Because last I heard you were teaching, I'm learning." So I would never say that to anybody. Why would you say something like that? But I knew Richard was crazy, so I just let it go.

I published my book and went on. But Columbia owes me a degree. And every time I go to Columbia, I remind them of that, because I was in the MFA program and you were supposed, it's two year program, like most MFA program, and at the end you were supposed to have a publishable book. Well, I published the book, right? So bingo, I have done what I'm supposed to do. I'm gone now, but send me my degree. And they were like, "No, because it's a two year program." I said, "No, it was a publishable book program." And so we fight about it. Of course, they're never going to do that. But actually that's not true. I would imagine if I die tragically, they'll do it right away. And if I die of old age... Ain't that the truth?

The audience:

Yeah.

Nikki Giovanni:

We have to face that one. Plane crashes. Columbia be right there. "We are giving Nikki her degree."

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Well, I'm not against stealing things, and if I ever get a job at Columbia, I'm going to steal you one.

Nikki Giovanni:

You tell them I want my degree. But no, it's fun. I mean, the thing that I like about the MFA programs, and those of you who are in it, is if you're smart, you are writing your book because that's what you're there to do. If you happen to end up teaching somebody something, goody. If you happen to end up learning something, goody. But you're there to write your book, and that's what you have to do. Most of you won't, let me be honest with you. And the reason that you won't is that you are afraid it's not going to be good enough, which being mostly what you are, you keep it from being good enough because you are afraid it won't be. Did I just make sense? Yeah, that's true. You have to write your book. Don't even worry about who's reading it. And anybody's not telling you. It's brilliant, you don't need that person in your life.

You just don't. You just don't. No, get rid of them. Because what you need is somebody say, "Oh, I love it. I love what you're doing." Maybe they're lying, but if they love it, and then you start to love it, that love is going to come in. Maybe it's not the greatest American novel, maybe it's not the greatest American poem. Who writes the great American poem for God's sake? Nobody does. But it will be the love that you have to share. And if you get into that habit, then you have a career that is going to be meaningful to you as opposed to a job that you could just as well have been at McDonald's flipping burgers. You have to have something that you care about.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

So you never said to Lamar Wilson, "Baby, that's a bad poem."

Nikki Giovanni:

Oh, no. Well, first of all, it's Lamar, so there were none. And I read Ms. Finney when she was 17, and remember, What's his name?

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Gloria?

Nikki Giovanni:

No, no, no. He's a man who was down there with us from Washington DC. Sterling Brown was there, and Ms. Finney came over and Sterling and I were sitting there reading it, and one of her friends said, "You're going to let them read your work?" But it was good. We both loved it. And the point is, if you bring, we will read. And our job is not to tell you what to do, our job is to say, since you've done that, the next question, "Where are you going? What are you going to do with it?" Finney wants to have a library, he could sell it one day and get rich. Because I think she's been keeping things since she was 10 years old or something like that. Now that you've got a big award, you can sell it and go to Greece.

But the point is, you have to let people read it, and the people who are reading it ought to have enough sense to know if there's absolutely nothing there, you are the last person that needs to tell them that. They can read. So what you're trying to do is help them define what it is that is working. And when you do that, then they pick up on that and they pick up on that. Mostly what works for all of you who are writers is the courage you have to do it. That's what you're doing. You're doing the love and you're doing the courage. If you do that, you are a whole human being there. So when you ask me to spend time, which is the only thing I cannot regain, when you ask me to spend time, I'm spending time with a real human being. I'm not spending time with somebody who's gaming me. I'm spending time with somebody who's trying to help me understand the world and is trying to help themselves. Then it's a fair exchange. And that's what writers offer. Don't you think?

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

I agree. No, I agree. I'm just a little meaner. That's all. Abolish the tenure system?

Nikki Giovanni:

Oh, yeah.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

Get rid of the migrant worker adjunct position? Toss out college sports? I like all that, actually. But I like [inaudible 01:01:11]-

Nikki Giovanni:

The sports aren't in college, and so I had modified, and you're talking about one-on-one now, but I'd modified that to pay the athletes. Because first of all, most of our athletes have children, men and women. At Virginia Tech, any place else, they have children, they have to pay. They need to take care of their children. It's a billion dollar sport. Basketball and football, a billion dollar sports. Track isn't, but it's still a lot of money. And those kids need their money, so pay them. I'm not a fan of stringing people along that the instructors do the heavy lifting and the professoriate does what? The research. I'm not a fan of that. And so I think that needs to be equaled out. I would tenure the coaches and let the rest of us struggle. Because the coaches need to be tenured so that they know that if they have a bad season, they won't lose their job. Nobody knows what a bad season is for a writer.

Thomas Sayers Ellis:

But would you pay the coach a million dollars? $2 million?

Nikki Giovanni:

I wouldn't. But then I don't do a job that, in the case of Virginia Tech, our stadium seats 70,000 people. In the case of Clemson, it's a hundred thousand. Michigan is more. I mean, so if I did a job that that many people watched me do it, maybe I would want more m


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