The X is Black

In the interest of staying positive...

When I was a sophomore in college, I took a class from my adviser (the inimitable Dr. Hinson). This particular class was American Survey of Literature, which I took because it was required. I was fully anticipating that we would read some Anne Bradstreet, some Harriet Jacobs, some Walt Whitman--and that did happen.

However, in one of the first classes, we read the following poem. And I love this poem. I've loved this poem from the first time I heard and saw it. This poem reminds me of why I want to become a teacher--so that I can share amazing stuff like this with my students. (I'm also going to be using it as part of my unit on Malcolm X.)

The X is Black by Amiri Baraka

If the flag catch
fire, & an X
burn in, that X is black
& leaves an
empty space. It
is that place
where we live
the Afro American
Nation.

If the flag
catch afire
& an X burn in
the only stripes is
on our back
the only star
blown free
in the northern sky
no red but our
blood, no white
but slavers and Klux in robes
no blue
but our songs

If the flag catch fire
& an X
burn in

that X is black
& the space that is left
is our history
now a mystery

we only live
where the flag
is not
where the air is funky
the music
hot
inside the hole
in the American soul
that space, that place
empty of democracy
we live


inside the burned boundaries
of a wasted symbol
X humans, X slaves, unknown, incorrect
crossed out, multiplying the wealth of others

(From The United States of Poetry,
Ed. Diana Murphy. NY: Abrams, 1996.)