The Nation published a poem last summer with a profound reflection from the perspective of a homeless person. It’s called “How-To.” The speaker offers tips to other people on the street, saying, “It’s the littlest shames they’re likely to comprehend. Don’t say homeless, they know you is.”
Then, less than a month later, the magazine apologized for publishing the poem.
Anders Carlson-Wee, its white author, used African-American vernacular to express his speaker’s voice, and he also used the word “crippled.” Outraged readers accused the poem of racism and able-ism.
Instead of publishing critiques of the poem, the Nation attached to it a craven note of apology: “We are sorry for the pain we have caused to the many communities affected by this poem. We recognize that we must now earn your trust back.”
Carlson-Wee has just released a volume of poetry. The Low Passions proves why “How-To” never should’ve been offensive in the first place. In the collection, he writes more from the voice of the disenfranchised in America. His intention was never to appropriate other voices, only to elevate them.
In The Low Passions, the Minneapolis-based writer writes about the Midwest. The poet speaks clearly of the region where he’s made his life, threading his poems through the experiences of a young drifter.
In “Birdcalls,” Carlson-Wee describes two brothers scavenging around train tracks:
I tried to imagine what my story would be.
The subjects of his poems are often sorrowful, yearning for a space the world hasn’t made for them. If the poet isn’t allowed to speak their language, he’ll never be able to give them voice.
