Hello!
I have a complicated history with Walt Whitman (and Emily Dickinson for that matter). A teacher in high school formerly introduced them to me, and, in lack of better words, destroyed my perception of both. He was a bad teacher for a variety of reasons, but the main thing that caused the scandal at my school was his racist micro- and macro-aggressions that more or less involved me. Drama! I know, and honestly this resulted in trauma with how I, as a Black and Asian student, function in English classes, even now.
Anyways—why did I take this class?
Well, this previous teacher of mine made me hate Whitman. I didn’t like the idea of someone speaking for all of America in the 1800s, especially in the arrogant and sweeping way he does. And we had begun the many versions of “Song of Myself” like a million times, and my teacher thought he was a Whitman-type poet and teacher himself, yada yada yada. I thought I could leave both Whitman and Dickinson behind.
But it’s hard to be a poet and not encounter both poets. I also am an American Studies double major and am interested in America’s literary history. And my hatred (if I can even call it that) towards them is too entwined with my personal educational history, I’m curious to see them in a different light.
So here I am giving it another try!
And omg I’m learning so much already!!!
In particular, the origins of Leaves of Grass (as seen on the biography page we were assigned to read). I knew some of this background but not the extent the influence of slavery had on Whitman. Then, I realized my initial uncomfortableness with Whitman back in high school may have stemmed from this:
“While most people were lining up on one side or another, Whitman placed himself in that space—sometimes violent, sometimes erotic, always volatile—between master and slave.”
My feelings towards this is complex, and I’m quite curious to read what Black scholars/writers have written on this (especially with the mentions of Langston Hughes and Yusef Komunyakaa at the end of this page).
But I view how he speaks towards a nationalistic identity during this time as both freeing and constricting. Whitman includes the working man, prostitutes, immigrants, the poor and struggling, Black slaves, and Native Americans into America’s story at a time where they are excluded. But he is also framing these people with his own assumptions of what America should be while speaking as and for everyone.
I also know I’m coming towards Whitman and Dickinson with my own bias (clearly). And I don’t live in their context. But all of these things are in my mind as we venture deeper into these literary giants. How do we define American literature or poetry? Who really is the “I” in America?
Best,
Aaliyah A. (she/her)
Yikes, I’m so sorry you had to deal with a teacher like that. I’m glad that you’re getting a second chance to explore the subject without having it tainted.
Your post makes me think of this statement by Stephen Jay Gould: “I am, somehow, less interested in the weight and convolutions of Einstein’s brain than in the near certainty that people of equal talent have lived and died in cotton fields and sweatshops.” America is built by such a diverse collection of cultures, and yet we definitely see certain populations (white, male) crowd the literary landscape. One does wonder what literary history would look like if black and native voices of the time were more widespread and acknowledged.
On the first day of class, Dr. Scanlon talked about the fact that she hesitates to say any one person has some inherent literary genius, because wealth, power, and connections have a lot to do with the reason people enter our collective literary canon (she talked about Nathaniel Hawthorn, if you remember). I really appreciate that she acknowledges this, because of that ambivalence you mention, where Whitman addresses a national identity, both including everyone but also speaking for populations he doesn’t necessarily belong to.
That said, Whitman was certainly progressive. I think it’s incredible that he was self taught, and I really liked the section of his biography where they described the way he was able to reflect and change when it came to his feelings/opinions on slavery, after his experiences in New Orleans.
I love the questions you ask in the last paragraph. After reading Whitman’s poem “America,” I’ve been thinking more about how he views and defines national identity – “…equal daughters, equal sons/All, all alike…” Equality, but also sameness, one body and one culture. Assimilation is an unspoken presence in these lines. Which makes me wonder what unconscious biases Whitman may be writing with, as a white man, when he discusses America.
Hi Aaliyah! I love how you were willing and open to exploring both of these poets again despite your negative prior experiences. I’m excited to hear your thoughts about these poets and their works as we continue through the semester!
Aaliyah, I’m coming back around to this after reading Danny’s post about the Beats and also grappling with the ethics of representation in “I celebrate myself.”
Langston Hughes really admired Whitman and his representation of black Americans as equals and citizens, but he also understood that they crucially needed to represent their own experience when they were finally able to. This poem is one that responds directly: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47558/i-too
I teach Hughes in Modern Poetry, and Komunyakaa in Contemporary Poetry. I have thought less about YK in relation to WW, tbh, but this may interest you: https://whitmanarchive.org/criticism/wwqr/pdf/anc.02069.pdf
Dr. Scanlon, thank you for sharing this! Hughes and Komunyakaa have been both very influential on me as a poet (especially Komunyakaa), so I’ll give both a thorough read. And you might see me in one of those classes in the future…
… I hope so! Modern Poetry should be Fall 2026.