The Language Lane

They say numbers speak to you sometimes. Maybe they say buy a lottery ticket. It could be that simple, as it is with me and 306. That is the first address I remember on that street uptown back in the day. My sister remembers the rat trapped in the radio. You’ll have to ask her about that. I can tell you that the address doesn’t exist anymore. The building was razed, and condominiums were constructed with the entrance on Bradhurst Avenue. I don’t think about the new number. I

In class yesterday, a perplexed student asked if Daniel Sullivan, a central character in Larry Duplechan’s Tangled Up in Blue, was Black. She understood that he was described as a double for Superman. People would approach him in public thinking that he could be Christopher Reeve. But the student didn’t know who Reeve was. Her first impulse, given that we are in the middle of an African American literature course, was to express wonder that a Black man had played Superman in

When you reach for the new poetry volume by Ishmael Reed, you just wonder which varieties of wit will be on display. What is the poet who penned the iconic and box-defying “I Am a Cowboy in the Boat of Ra” fifty years ago and published a collected volume of verse spanning 42 years (1964-2006) possibly up to now? Turns out to be a lot. Remaining contemporary and astute, Reed simply is not going away, as indicated in the extended comparison, “Hip Hop and The Blues,” The Blues w

“Junior Boyd, I’m a little surprised at you on this vaccine situation.” Semple paused as he thought the call was dropping, but the connection held. “You know I got my second dose this morning and you still saying you ain’t down.” “That was not my precise messaging,” replied Junior Boyd. “I expressed that I was concerned. I wish I had more thorough analytical historically-informed information.” “You might become history while you waiting on that info. They done analyzed this v

In 1986, approximately a decade before her death, Toni Cade Bambara declared at the National Black Writers Conference that African American writers are responsible for reminding people what they were pretending not to know. Her faith in archives that we can draw on, and her essential contribution to such archives, are central concerns in Thabiti Lewis’s compelling new book, a cultural biography titled Black People Are My Business: Toni Cade Bambara’s Practices of Liberation.

In a sociolinguistics class back in graduate school, Professor Roger Cayer told us about an article by James Woodward titled “Black Southern Signing.” I was fascinated that such a linguistic form existed, but I was more interested in the idea that those language practitioners were considered inferior and were discriminated against in schools. This boosted an argument about African American English (AAE) that I supported by then: It’s not verbal forms or sounds that make you c

Semple addressed the man sitting on the park bench in weather too chilly for deep contemplation. “You look a little depressed, Junior Boyd. I know your favorite lunch spot is shut down again. But we haven’t been going there much anyway.” “It’s not the restaurant, Semple. People are saying they shouldn’t call my wife Dr. anymore because she possesses a doctorate in education not a medical degree. They say she’s just like the new First Lady. They shouldn’t call her Dr., and the

Cold wind whipped across the masks of the two men as they passed the police station out on the boulevard. “They delved into that topic again last night on CNN. Defund the police,” said Junior Boyd, gesturing toward the building. “Came on late.” “I was knocked out by then,” replied Semple Jenkins. “Don’t defund sleep.” “I suppose we would not want that,” chuckled Junior Boyd. “But seriously, they really got into it. It started with Obama. Peter Hambry, from Good Luck America,

Winning is one of those funny words that people use when they mean another word. I mostly noticed this in connection with sports events. Someone would say a person or some team was winning after three quarters, after being up a set, or after having won more games in a series. But if winning means relating to or resulting in victory, then winning can only be ascertained after victory is assured. A winning strategy is only one that results in a win. Similarly, we don’t know if

“Well, in being a virtuous leader, that’s where your ability to use the third liberal art of rhetoric comes into play. You must be a good negotiator and motivational speaker, make them see and want to for whatever acceptable reasons inspire them.” “I don’t understand. What’s rhetoric?” “It’s the art of using words effectively and persuasively. It is one of the seven liberal arts taught by the ancient Egyptians to their students. The others are grammar, arithmetic, dialectic,

“What’s up, Semple Jenkins. You’re moving pretty fast out here.” “Tryna get home with this stationery to finish this letter to my folks down South. I thought it would only take a few minutes, but my godson decided to help me. He from college like you. So I ran out of paper.” Semple extended his right hand to display the plastic bag from the drugstore containing a writing pad, some new pens, and a variety of candy. “I’m not sure I get the connection,” said Junior Boyd. “Do you

Only on rereading Langston Hughes’s The Big Sea for my course on African American Autobiography did I ponder name and geography connections. Hughes identifies his paternal great-grandfather as Sam Clay, a white man who lived in Henry County, Kentucky. Sam Clay, Hughes suggests, was a relative of Henry Clay, who was a Senator, Secretary of State, and several times a candidate for President. On this reading, Clay in combination with Kentucky made me think of another famous Clay

Once I was at a composition conference headquartered in downtown Nashville. Some colleagues and I, having never seen Fisk University, decided to make the trip. During our trip, we ran across a sports shop near campus that showcased Negro League memorabilia. When I stepped inside and saw a photo of Satchel Paige, I exclaimed firmly and confidently, “That’s the best pitcher right there.” I was an expert among my companions. An elderly man chuckled and replied, as if I had addre

In the club of ethnic labeling, BIPOC tryna get it in. The term Black, Indigenous and People of Color is a well-meaning attempt in activist circles to highlight particular experiences in relation to oppression and use inclusive terminology as part of anti-white-supremacist initiatives. Of course, you don’t need an acronym to accomplish these things. You can just use more words. Oral speed shouldn’t be much of an issue. I time BIPOC at about .5 seconds and Black, Indigenous an

I missed a good speech on September 15, 1970. The person that gave it, Chuck Scott, as we knew him, was a childhood friend, my next-door neighbor in Corona, Queens, who was like a brother to me. There were five Scott brothers, and I fit right in the middle of the bunch age-wise, so I became an honorary brother, fourth in the birth order, five weeks behind number three. I had a front-row seat to some of Chuck’s compelling orations. He would shadow box around the room with a mo

It is fairly easy to see that white nationalism is largely an expression of fascist impulses. It would be hard not to when white-nationalist trolls circulate in cyberspace calling themselves fashy. Some debate how closely we should tie Donald Trump’s rhetoric to the inane rantings and ravings of these white-nationalist legions. I say we should see them as closely aligned given the evidence of both his presidential campaigns, punctuated so far by his recent speech accepting t

The virtuoso poet Audre Lorde opened her popular poem “Power” with the following lines: The difference between poetry and rhetoric is being ready to kill yourself instead of your children. The stanza has puzzled many readers, but there has also been a vibrant and varied critical response. The first stanza is sometimes read as a deft set up for a switch from academic language to the imaginative horror show that follows as Lorde reflects in subsequent stanzas on the 1973 police