The Porch (As Sanctuary)
by Jae Nichelle
YesYes Books, 2020
My yearly calendar is marked by rereads. Specifically, I reread the books that I teach in my twelfth-grade English classes. Due to the coronavirus, I'm taking a year of leave from teaching — which also means taking a year of leave from
Their Eyes Were Watching God, among others. The moment I began reading
The Porch (As Sanctuary) (), by Jae Nichelle, I knew that in another world, where the government worked well and I was still teaching, my students would be reading it, too, come spring of this school year. In the very first poem, "What We Talked From the Porch," Nichelle begins: "I have a recurring nightmare/It begins/like a scene from
Their Eyes Were Watching God." For anyone who hasn't read Zora Neale Hurston's novel, that porch is a nightmare. The protagonist Janey refers to the inhabitants of the porch as "Mouth Almighty," people who sit "in judgment,” talking so much smack and gossip that it becomes "mass cruelty. A mood come alive." And in the poem, that is just what the Black women on the porch do as the speaker’s “secrets trail behind me/like loose string.” But this is just one aspect of the porch in
The Porch (As Sanctuary). It is also a place of connection, among family but also strangers, and ritual. In Nichelle’s hands, though the porch is a place of exclusion at the hands of “Mouth Almighty,” it is also a place of “communion better/than a sliver of bread on an empty stomach” where it’s warm because “them storms been weathered already.” I can only hope this coming year treats us so well, so I can be back in the classroom with a dozen AP Literature students and a dozen copies of this chapbook.
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