Kenneth, Kwame, Patricia and Jeffrey,

I’m glad Kenneth pointed out that we do not know each other. Perhaps this is obvious, but it seems to me that the fact that we’re from different communities is no coincidence. I imagine the Poetry Foundation asked us in part because as a group we are “diverse.” So, I’m thinking now about what I “represent:” White, female, New York, MFA from Iowa, under 40, Jewish, “emerging” (my third book is coming out in the fall). Is this me? Yes. Do I resent being chosen in part because I represent these elements? Not really. Do I consider myself interchangeable with other white East Coast female Iowa grads or do I imagine that we would all write similar posts? I hope I'm not interchangable; I think we'd write different posts!

Still, there is no denying that I am, to a large extent, defined (and confined) to the communities from which I come and to which I belong. It’s true I won two local slams in New Haven when I was a Yale undergrad, but I’m not a slam poet. (Unlike Patricia people have very low expectations of me as a reader. I have the pleasant experience of people being incredibly relieved when at readings I'm not deadly boring--most seem to expect, from my bio, that I am going to mumble and read obscure poems with lots of French in them.) I certainly didn’t buy them because of this, but most of the books on my shelves are written by white poets and many more than half are written by women. I pride myself for liking and responding to a wide range of poetries, and one of the best things about co-editing the anthology I’ve been posting about is that within the realms of gender and age the editorial process required me to read across lines of race, geography, sexual preference, style, educational background and class. This was a necessary beginning to what will certainly be a life-long education. I don’t know you, but I’m glad to be here.