"The Genius Child" by Langston Hughes

This poem by Langston Hughes was part of a collection of his poetry published in 1958. I am unsure of which of his many published works it first appeared in. No matter; it made a great impression upon me when I was about 13 and first read it. I was reminded of it just this week while reading "One Righteous Man" by Arthur Browne. It is the story of Langston Hughes unpublished book about the life of Samuel Battle, New York City's first African-American Police Officer.

What makes this poem so unusual for Mr. Hughes is that it is a poem of personal despair. He wrote about his personal struggle between art and making a living in a letter to Maxim Lieber dated December 30, 1935. In that letter he said, “I’ll just let Art be a sidekick like it used to be in the days I was a busboy and was at least sure of my meals.” 

This poem is at least partially about the author and his longing to have a “normal” job, rather than being a sometimes broke author/poet/activist. Having a vision and trying to fulfill that dream is never an easy task; it is often a burden. It’s lucky for us Langston Hughes could carry that weight…

The Genius Child

This is a song for the genius child.

Sing it softly, for the song is wild.

Sing it softly as ever you can -

Lest the song get out of hand.

Nobody loves a genius child.

Can you love an eagle,

Tame or wild?

Can you love an eagle,

Wild or tame?

Can you love a monster

Of frightening name?

Nobody loves a genius child.

Kill him - and let his soul run wild.

"I, too, sing America" by Langston Hughes

Langston Hughes was one of the last of the great poets from the Harlem renaissance. His work influenced all who came after; including the great Maya Angelou, recently deceased. He was born in 1902, in the middle of the Jim Crow Era; and he passed away in 1967 at the height of the Civil Rights struggle.

In this 21^st Century we are engaged in a new struggle; one for economic equity. In this struggle there are no colors; just bank balances. I have been struck by how appropriate the literature of the Civil Rights Era applies to this new set of circumstances.

For instance; in this poem, when you think of the “darker brother” think of the common working man. He does all the work for the least amount of money. He’s weary of being cast aside; told he doesn’t count. Remember the disdain which Mitt Romney showed for the average American. He even said it, we “don’t count.”

This poem is for all people everywhere who get the short end of the stick, while working towards a better tomorrow.

I, too, sing America.

I am the darker brother.

They send me to eat in the kitchen

When company comes,

But I laugh,

And eat well,

And grow strong.

Tomorrow,

I’ll be at the table

When company comes.

Nobody’ll dare

Say to me,

“Eat in the kitchen,"

Then.

Besides,

They’ll see how beautiful I am

And be ashamed—

I, too, am America.