Starting the Young

I have, for a long time, suggested that there is a parallel between playing a musical instrument and writing poetry. I have argued that the writing of poetry is simply a different art form, but like painting, dancing, playing an instrument and singing, writing poetry is a craft that has to be learnt, practiced and mastered. More often than not, I have made this case to writers, arguing that it is important for them to learn various poetic forms, expand their vocabulary and write as much as possible—practicing the art in the process. I have to admit, though, that the parallels implied in my argument are strained. Writing poetry is different. Mastering that craft is largely a process of mastering one’s humanity.

This is a lofty assertion, but I really think there is some truth here. Here is how I know. Recently, while eating a meal of over-cooked fried chicken in the Montego Bay Restaurant in Harlem, a young and gifted poet, Ishion Hutchison who is an MFA student at NYU asked of my family. He wanted to know whether any of my three children was showing an aptitude for poetry. It is a question, I am sure you realize, that I get all the time. I am a writer, so at least one of them must have the “bug”.
I smiled at the question. “No, no,” I said. And I did not expect any of them to be interested in being writers now. I also realized that if any of them showed an aptitude for or an interest in writing, I would not give it a great deal of attention. I would not push for private tutors for that child to hone his or her craft, nor would I start to harass them every afternoon about practicing their sonnets. I would be suspicious of this interest—not so much because of a distrust of the kids, but because I really have some doubts about the value of discovering one’s interest in writing at such a young age.Who wants to have an ambition to be a writer as a young teenager? Would that not lend itself to making you something of an annoying and troubled observer of the world? And does it help to master the villanelle at a tender age? You can tell that I am not so sure about the early discovery of literary talent.
Now, all three of my children are musicians. My daughters both play two string instruments and are doing quite well with them. My son plays the saxophone and is a percussionist, as well. I never had formal music lessons growing up and I remain deeply impressed by their musical skill and their ability to make genuinely beautiful sounds with their instruments. I push them to practice, encourage them to take their lessons seriously and assume the role of chauffeur to take everywhere to make this music. I never stop to wonder if they are too young to learn the rudiments of their craft. I never worry that this is an endeavor that is too mature and serious for them. Learning how to play an instrument seems so technical, so innocuous, so free of the exploration of self that it is more akin to playing a sport than anything else. The truth is that I don’t expect them to have careers as musicians, but I still believe that their ability to master an instrument is a valuable human skill to have.
So, why I am not pushing them to gain basic competence in writing poetry? There must be a reason. It is not as if there is no precedence for that kind of training. Apparently, the study of poetics was a fundamental part of basic academic training in many parts of the world. As European students learnt Latin, they learnt how to translate Virgil and Homer, how to write imitation verses and how to write in hexameter and with rhyme. In many Asian traditions, the mastery of poetic forms has been part of the expectation for a good education. This may have been what was going through the mind of Derek Walcott’s mother when she used to take him through challenging formal lessons in poetics as a child. According to Walcott, she had long decided that he was going to be a poet, and she had established a routine for him as a writer and as a painter. One imagines that this may explain his success as a writer and one could decide that this kind of early start is exactly what we need to do to our future poets.
I am skeptical, though. Poetry is a peculiar craft because whether they are right about this or not, most people can imagine that they can write a poem that people will call a poem. Modernism and its off-shoots have ensured that virtually anything that is shaped like a poem can be safely called a poem. If you gave me a trumpet and asked me to play it, I will not make sounds that could be called musical. But given anyone pen and paper and a few instructions and they will write a poem—a real live poem. Given this, it seems that while there is value in having poets develop some comfort with forms when they are younger, it does seem to me that the best training for a poet has to be reading—the reading of a wide range of strong poems to at least establish a sense of what can happen with poems. But the other key element of preparation has to be experience.
The truth is that I am not sure I want my children to be writers. What I want them to be is readers and appreciators of good writing. I want them to enjoy literature, to understand it, to know the potential power of a well-written poem. I want them to a genuine engagement with this art. If they decide to write, I would be happy and would be supportive, but if not, that would be perfectly fine to me.
When I teach writing workshops to grade school children, I suppose I am not trying to create the great new poet of the next generation. But I do believe that that poet is one of those grade school children. I also believe that what I teach will make that person continue to be interested in poetry and in discovering how poetry can change his or her life. I know that something other than the workshop is going to make this person decide that writing poems is something he or she will have to do to continue to be happy with his or her life. My job is to make the possibility of being a poet a real one for these young people, and to allow them some recourse when the circumstances of their lives move them towards this need to write.