Q&A with Tamara J. Madison

Kicking off The Wild Umbrella premiere of Tamara J. Madison's double feature with poems "Morning Glory", and "Kitchen 1969", read our interview between the poet and Editor-in-Chief, Julian Kanagy. (We apologise for the offence to our European readers, as both interviewee and interviewer use their American English spelling for this Q&A)

I'd love to begin with "Morning Gloried," as did you. This is a poem that comes out the gate swinging; your allusion to Brandy Nālani McDougall's poem and her own allusions to Refaat Alareer's lines; "If I Must Die" likewise brought me unhelpable tears when I first read it in the end of 2023 and again upon its revisitation. In "Morning Gloried," the poet ('you') similarly struggles with the guilt of survivorship, and writes among and about the living in poems formed of "tears of sun," of the tears shed throughout your poem, and of the beauty in the world remaining. 

What do the questions posed in this poem mean to you, the creator? How do you navigate your writing in a world with "so much wretched death" and come out "Golden?"

I had the blessing of a fellowship and residency at Ucross in Wyoming this past spring. The landscape was stunning with surrounding mountains and vast fields. I was seated in my studio gazing out the window looking at my surroundings pondering the stories, the secrets the land had to tell, wondering about the folk/flora/fauna who lived there long before I arrived. The questions in the poem are about how long I have yet to survive, work, serve Earth, this land beneath my feet before I leave. The poem also reminds the readers of the relentless selling and slaying of land and people all over the world including the land where I was then and am now seated while writing this.

“i must slide down like a great dipper

of stars

and lift men up” -- Lucille Clifton

I do not struggle with “the guilt of survivorship” at all. As a descendant of peoples who have sacrificed, suffered, survived, and even thrived amid marginalization, disenfranchisement, slavery, and genocide on so many levels, it is my duty to own my survival with gratitude. There is no, “if” I must die; I most certainly will. In my writing, I celebrate life despite the tragedies. In this way, I can leave something “Golden” that helps others to survive. For me, Alareer’s life and poem represent the same sentiment.

Jill Scott's "Golden" is a fascinating musical allusion to incorporate here; would you like to share with us how your writing benefits from your connections to music, to freedom, and to land (both in "Morning Gloried" and perhaps in other poetry of yours)?

Music helps me to thrive. I honestly don’t know how I would live without it. Music connects me to my ancestry and my culture and to other parts of the world. I come from a very rich tradition of spirituals, soul, and gospel music. I also come from blues and soul. The language of my people is rhythmic and tonal. All of these were a part of my upbringing and community. They remain as powerful influences in my work as a poet and spoken word artist. The day that I wrote “Morning Gloried,” I started my writing practice with my musical playlist and then read the “Poem-a-Day” selection from The Academy of American Poets (poets.org). Jill Scott’s

“Golden” began to play as I was sketching the poem. The poem is in dialogue with both my reading and the music of the moment.

According to my research, my roots are in Kentucky, where many generations of my maternal and paternal lineage were born and raised. I am tied to the land because some of my family farmed and lived close to the earth. I remember my grandfather’s garden, the chicken coop, fishing trip (that included on the boys), and hounds for hunting. This country life shows up often in my work.

As for freedom… It’s relative… Poetry is my freedom or at least an expression of it. I am grateful for that.

"Kitchen 1969" gives readers a descriptive scene, a versatile and quintessentially gendered recollection of what the poet finds most important about that scene. Could you tell us how this poem was to write? When writing a piece like this, dedicated to & centering the women of your family, what role do they play in your writing process?

Thank you so much for asking this question! This poem was inspired by the women of my maternal lineage. These women held their marriages and our family together. They nurtured the family and the culture. I find it fascinating how they also nurtured one another often through very tough times. My mother kept the stories, the photos, and even some letters and documents, which she passed to me and my sister. As a poet/writer, these have all become a treasure chest that I use as muse.

I often have flashbacks from my youth but see those moments now with more insight because of my age and experience. This poem remembers my mother, her mother, and two aunts all working together in the kitchen beneath the pressing heat of Kentucky summers and no air condition while still donning dresses, pearls and curls, etc. (a talent that I never mastered). Among them I have only one aunt remaining, Aunt Jealone. I had a conversation with her recently about those memories. Her insights inspired the poem. While writing it, my admiration and awe of these women, their triumphs, and their tragedies unfolded.

Are "Morning Gloried" and "Kitchen 1969" - two poems laden with very different emotions - part of any larger collection of yours, or do they stand (respectively) alone?

My manuscript-in-progress is a collection of poems based exclusively on both my maternal and paternal lineage and the pictures, letters, documents, oral history, and research that I have gathered over the past two years. The work illustrates the agency of people of color in 19th and 20th century United States daring to survive and thrive against the forces that marginalized and disenfranchised them. I am just now beginning the greater task of editing the full collection and sorting through the poems that will and won’t be included. I know for certain that “Kitchen 1969” is a part of this larger collection. “Morning Gloried” works along the same theme, but I am not quite sure if it needs to be a part of that book. I trust that the poems will tell.

Do you find that your writing often originates for (or from) others, or from others' words? Our editorial team has had the privilege of reading more than just these two of your poems, and you have quite the knack for creating a new and beautiful poem in conversation with the words or actions of others.

When people ask me generally what do I write about, the first thing that comes to mind is “relationships.” Yes, I find that whether immediately conscious of it or not, my writing is always in conversation with the things, people, poets that surround and inspire me. I love to honor other writers’ in my works and “tag” them or include them as part of an epigraph. It is a way to promote the other poet and provoke further exploration for myself and the reader.

This has been quite an exercise for me! What a wonderful (and often rare) opportunity for your readers and contributing writers! Thank you so much for such thoughtful questions and consideration of this work.

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Tamara J. Madison

Tamara J. Madison is a writer, poet, and editor with work published and produced on various platforms. She has presented on the TEDx platform and is an MFA graduate of New England College and Anaphora Arts Fellow. Her recent poetry collection is Threed, This Road Not Damascus (Trio House Press).

Julian Kanagy

Julian Kanagy is a Chicago-based poet whose work sets out to explore questions he can't find the words to ask. As Editor-in-Chief of The Wild Umbrella, in regular reading, and in his own writing process, Julian appreciates intentionality, concision, and variety in structure. Per the advice of a mentor, he is always searching for those "poems nobody else could have written."