I am sitting in
my classroom and office---the reality of teaching high school doing a little
light reading on the internet as I listen to The Beatles’ Revolver. To my left, six of my college prep students
are working on their essays which is due in a few days in varying degrees of
seriousness. Having come across an old
comment I made regarding places where poetry and political alignment intersect,
I was struck with the reality of my answer being incomplete. I responded to the idea of conservative and
liberal alignment, but I completely missed the opportunity to interject myself
into the answer. The original question
had some dealing with how poets address war in their poetry, and who is capable
to do so. As a veteran and poet, I
missed yet another chance to solidify my place in the poetry community. Now I am here, trying to rectify that in my
own small way.
So first off, I need to make sure
you don’t think I only find worth as a poet in relation to my place in the
poetry community. I do not. I find my worth as a poet on many different
levels and I am using the notion as a construct to discuss what is clinking
around inside my head more than anything else.
At best, I will only be able to get to one or two ways I attempt to find
my worth as a poet—and hopefully I will be happy with some of what I have to
say.
As a veteran of the First Gulf War,
I find worth as a poet because I have on occasion successfully interacted with
my experiences in the production of poetry.
I have written a few poems which have accurately expressed my thoughts
and emotions concerning both the reality of war and its political
ramifications. I am no Brian Turner,
whose work on the subject of war rivals that of any poet of war I can recall,
but I am proud of both my service and the poems I have written which address
the topic. I also try to support the
poetry of younger poets and fellow veterans who happen to put some focus on
their war time experiences. That is a
dual role for me, as a veteran and a poet.
But exactly what worth lies in any of that? Where does any of that make a difference to
me or the worth I have as an artist? How
am I supposed to take my activities and demonstrate worth to myself, other
poets, or those with whom I am close? I
know some of you will reject the premise of the question and offer the idea
that the worth of poetry exists in the poem itself, or in the act of
creation. I see your point, but I am not
talking about the value of poetry. I am
talking about me, the poet trying to find a relative placement within what most
people find worthy. Let’s face it. Not too many people still find worth in
poetry itself.
Does my worth come from my
interactions as a poet, promoting other poets, continuing to address the issues
I face as a veteran with my poetry? Can I
expect anyone to assign me some sense of worth because I do those things? When I look at a poet like W.S. Merwin or
David Lee, I find worth in their poetry, their advocacy, and the interactions
(to varying degrees) I have had with each of them. Does anyone feel that way about me? Have I contributed enough to my writing about
war and politics to register on anyone’s consciousness? Even in the periphery? Or has that boat sailed? Is my worth to be measured because I teach
high school English, and as a veteran I am presenting the possibility that the
modern, contemporary veteran can assimilate and become a productive member of
the Middle Class? Let’s face another fact while we are here: Too many people
paint veterans into a corner and get very uncomfortable when they have to
acknowledge their presence or talk to them.
In the poetry community I am a bit
of an anomaly. Part of that is because I
am a veteran. I went through the Veteran’s
Administration (VA) in order to receive vocational rehabilitation. I have a neurological disability which
manifests itself in extreme headaches and fatigue. I received my degree in History and went into
teaching high school not because I thought that was the best I could ever do,
but because I was as I am now, a pragmatist.
I needed a career and I knew as a writer, I could write no matter where
I lived or what I did for a living. But
because I did not go on to graduate school, whether to get an MA or an MFA, I
am not classified in the same strata as other poets. This is not going to be a debate over the
MFA, but I will tell you from my side of the fence, there are a few glaring
examples of how I am treated differently because my master’s degree is in
education, not creative writing. I will
say this to be fair: I have received a lot more sour looks and treatment over
not having a Ph.D. or teaching high school instead of college than I have for
not having an MFA in poetry. I will also
add that I make more money teaching high school than many of the poets I know
in the poetry community, especially those who are trapped inside the adjunct
system, praying for a chance for full time employment. I have published four chapbooks of poetry and
four full length collections. I have a
fifth collection due out in a few months, and all in the space of eleven
years. Of course it took a long time for
those eleven years to start, but I am very fortunate.
My
being a veteran plays into my oddball status because I am a veteran. I am a liberal Democrat, especially on social
issues, and I am more conservative in fiscal matters. Being a veteran also makes me an anomaly in
the poetry world because I love guns. I
own several and I enjoy them immensely.
That puzzles some of my liberal friends just like my ideas which run
counter to the National Rifle Association confuse my more conservative
friends. Most of all, my status as a
veteran makes me ‘one of those’ poets.
There are several distinctions which puts poets in their place, and I
get it because I am a veteran. I don’t
mind a lot of the prevailing discussion of white male poets even though that is
what I am because I agree with a lot of it.
There has been a lot of privilege absorbed and assimilated into the
subconscious of white male poets and too many forget there is a whole world of
other voices out there which have value.
Of course it’s the pigeon-hole effect I bristle at the most. I am a veteran, so therefore I must be a
warmonger or some mindless automaton who goose steps and quivers with
anticipation at the mention of Ronald Reagan.
Of course that isn’t true.
Nothing I am is the only thing I am, and I think that’s what too many
people (not just poets or republicans or democrats) tend to do. We reduce each other to make our own lives
easier. And when we do that out of
necessity, I wonder where my worth lies.
I wonder how other people perceive me and where they place me in their
thought processes. I wonder what impact I
will have or have had when it’s all
over and done.
I
wonder if my worth as a poet has anything to do with anything. I wonder if we make up these
distinctions. Of course I am reminded of
the intrinsic worth of poetry and the poet I mentioned earlier, but I am still
talking about me finding worth outside of myself in the indeterminate poetry
universe. Just because I am supposed to
minimize my need to place or what some might call external validation doesn’t
mean I am ever going to be able to rid myself of those things entirely. Nor does it mean my desire to know what place
I occupy in that universe is an entirely irrelevant pursuit. Knowing who I am and where I stand is of
great importance to me, and I think I will always want to know.
