It was the 1920s. Slavery was over. African American people were moving by the hoards to the Midwest and the Northeast in search of a better, more equal life. The life everyone deserves. Many of the landed in a neighborhood north of central park in Manhattan known as Harlem. Once there, something magical happened. There was a burst of life—art and music were pouring out of this and other black communities that spanned as far as the Caribbean populations in Paris. While this decade is now lovingly referred to as the Jazz Age, it is the art of the Harlem Renaissance that is responsible for the emergence of this now classic form of expression. The writing, especially poetry, was also noteworthy. Harlem produced writers such as W.E.B. Dubois, Zora Neale Hurston, Fannie Hurst, and Alain Leroy Locke, who was responsible for giving the literary surge its name—the New Negro Movement. While the work of all of these writers was admirable and memorable, the work of one artist in particular cut to the bone—Langston Hughes. His poetry touched on the tragedy inherent in rebuilding a life after being enslaved for so long, but also on the newfound respect in freedom. He once called the Harlem Renaissance a time when “the Negro was in vogue” (Francis, 64), a frenzy he, in part, caused.
Hughes was born in 1902 in Joplin, Missouri to Carrie Mercer and John Nathanial Hughes. He was their second child. One of his first Midwestern homes, where he spent most of his childhood, was in Lawrence, Kansas. He was raised mostly by his grandmother, Mary Patterson Langston, who was a civil rights activist in the 1800s and was one of the first women to attend Oberlin College in Ohio. Hughes was left with his grandmother because his father left the United States to escape the racism that was keeping him from leading a comfortable life and his mother travelled around looking for work as a school teacher. His poetry career started early—he was elected class poet when he was a child. By the time he was in high school, he was back with his mother. They lived together in Cleveland, Ohio. If one keeps his own account of his life in mind, it seems his life did not begin until he was twenty-one. It was at this age that his autobiography The Big Sea begins. He left the Midwest after high school and, after spending some time with his father in Mexico, he went to New York City, where he was bound to make his mark. He went to attend Columbia, University, but his life there did not last long. He found that they were prejudiced and that the people and energy of Harlem were much more interesting. One of the factors that makes Hughes’s work and voice so appealing is his inherent pride in his own heritage. He was continuously working to advance the lives of African American people by addressing stereotypes and the interracial struggles of the era. The 1920s were interesting, though, because, as Hughes noted, African American culture was popular—the music and the poetry were read and praised by people of every color. While much prejudice existed in the world, there were also many white people who approached the migration of African Americans into their part of the world with curiosity and openness. Many of the stigmas and stereotypes prevalent in the 1960s were not established yet. The fact that he was accepted into Columbia is an example of this—the school had no problem accepting him but, once he was there, the general mindset of the staff was limited, which is why he left. In 1926, Hughes wrote an essay for the publication The Nation commenting on one of the main problems in the African American community—a desire to be white. “One of the most promising of the young Negro poets said to me once, ‘I want to be a poet—not a Negro poet’” (“The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain”). He goes on to dissect this statement, determining that, at the center, this young man was saying, “’I would like to be white.’ And I was sorry the young man said that, for no great poet has ever been afraid of being himself” (“The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain”).
Comfort in his own skin sums up the tone of Hughes’s work. While his circumstances were challenging and there was certainly a great mountain to climb before reaching equality, his work has a sense of exploration and curiosity. Where he finds inequality and prejudice, he does not explode at it, but rather studies it like a strange artifact. One of the poems that showcases this fact the best is Harlem, which is better known for its opening lines, “What happens to a dream deferred?/ Does it dry up/like a raisin in the sun” (“Harlem [Dream Deferred]”)? The poem goes on to touch on and question the sadness and oppression of the African American community in Harlem, but is marked by the fact that it is a series of questions. He does not attack anyone or anything, but merely paints a clear picture of the various outcomes of the circumstances that have been created in such a way, that it tugs on the heart of anyone who reads it. It is also so well known because it was used famously by Lorraine Hansberry as the inspiration for the title of her most famous work, A Raisin in the Sun, another literary work that helped advance civil rights.
Progress sometimes is slow. Oppression is a burden that is hard to remove. Regardless of the inherent challenges in this circumstance, Langston Hughes, one of the preeminent writers of the Harlem Renaissance, helped provide the world with a strong basis for movement and growth. His innate appreciation for his own skin and curiosity that the world did not see him as he saw himself, allowed him to paint touching, honest pictures with his words of the life of African Americans in the 1920s. His acceptance of himself and his culture helped many others, black and white alike, find that same centeredness. While racial tension still exists in the world today, Hughes would surely be thrilled to see the progress society has made. As he mentions in his poem, “Daybreak in Alabama,” having hands of all colors intertwined in friendship should be as “natural as dew” (“Daybreak in Alabama”).
Lucky
Sitting in my room
Shortly after water has
Fallen from the sky
I can’t help but wonder
If other eyes would see my world differently,
And know my life
Differently.
I struggle sometimes.
Trying to live the way I want.
Feeling the weight of a world that is not always
Open
Be practical, it says.
Live for the dollar.
Forget your soul that begs to
Holler about art, and life and love and trust
Creating and painting the world with
Rust colored stories
Of times yet to be had.
I struggle sometimes,
Nearly going mad
But, then,
Just as the sun comes out,
I take a step back and
Remember
Just how lucky I am.
Works Cited
Francis, Ted. Realism in the Novels of the Harlem Renaissance. New York, NY: Writers Club, 2002. Print.
Huggins, Nathan Irvin. Harlem Renaissance. New York: Oxford UP, 1971. Print.
Hughes, Langston. "The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain." Nation 23 June 1926. Print.
Hughes, Langston. The Big Sea: An Autobiography. New York: Hill and Wang, 1963. Print.
POET: LANGSTON HUGHES - ALL POEMS OF LANGSTON HUGHES. "POET: LANGSTON HUGHES - ALL POEMS OF LANGSTON HUGHES." Poemhunter.com. Web. 12 Dec. 2014. <http://www.poemhunter.com/langston-hughes/>.
