On Centering Connectivity: A Conversation with Amanda Johnston

Amanda Johnston has a big name and a long resume. As the Texas Poet Laureate, founder of Torch Literary Arts, creator of the poetic form genesis, author of two chapbooks, GUAP and Lock & Key, and a full-length collection Another Way to Say Enter, her accolades are too long to list. Amanda and I sat down at Texas State during her visit to the Therese Kayser Lindsay Literary Series to discuss her past work and future projects.
Divine: So, I heard you speak at the I Scream Social, and your story blew me away. You talked about being from Austin, the Gardener Betts experience, and being a teen mom. How has your journey informed your writing?
Amanda: That’s a big question. I mean, we are who we are, right? So, I don’t think I’d be the poet that I aim to be if I wasn’t reflecting on and writing about my own experiences. I mean to write about, well, I write about a lot of things, but I focus on my own experience. My life from beginning to now, and through to the end will be definitely a part of what I am, you know. My life is what I write about. So, anything else would be avoidance and denying my own existence and value. And I hope that in doing that, others can see it and can relate to it. That they might not feel alone. For me, my poetry is most concerned with connectivity. Connecting with other people.
Divine: As an Austinite and a teen mom, I think the work that you are doing is incredible, and I really appreciate you highlighting Austin and all that you do around the city. What led you to focus on advocating specifically for Black women through your organization Torch Literary Arts?
Amanda: Well, I am biracial. My mother is White, my father is Black, but you know, culturally, too, it’s how you’re raised. So, my mother is actually the only white person in my family. And that’s because of a whole other story, but my grandparents passed away when I was only two, and the other members on my mother’s side of the family were very spread across the country and passed away when I was young, so truly my influences all came from my mother and my black family. That means I was raised by Black women as well. So, the people who raised me are my mother, but very much so my grandmother, from my father’s side, Maregret Sandler, and also my aunt Janice Robinson. Those Black women and seeing them full of joy and love and all of the challenges they faced because they were Black women made me understand the world that we live in very early. And then, growing up seeing my own experiences in contrast with my mother’s was a lesson to itself that we were experiencing two different realities.
Divine: You created Genesis. Can you talk about what led you to the form and its function in the poem? Also, I am not a poet, but I am trying to learn, so feel free to go into the particulars of the mechanics.
Amanda: Well, the Genesis was actually me writing my way back to my grandparents. My grandmother, Margret Sanlin, and my grandfather Argean Sandin. They passed away, and I wrote that poem in I want to say 2011. They had just passed away not too long before that and so I wanted to hear their voice and just in the process of writing it took me through time and lineage to get to them. So, the form was informed by first my uncles and my father. So, in order of age. If you look at the Genesis itself, the original Genesis, the first column is my youngest uncle, my second uncle. There were five sons from my grandparents, so it goes through them to the fifth column, which is my father’s voice. So, the reason there were five columns was because they had five sons. And then the paragraph, the prose poem is my grandmother’s voice, and then the last poem, which is the greatest italics is my grandfather’s voice. So, me searching for them after I’d lost them and finding them is what created the poem. Now the form, though I used it still and it is a challenging form, I love contrapuntal poems, which are poems that are made out of three poems, so it has a right side, a left side that you read independently, and then a cross. So, it’s like an exaggerated contrapuntal, but then the added element of a visible erasure, if such a thing could be, but by having the italicized words, it makes up a different poem. So, it really pushed it, and it did that in a way that is above me. That is really kind of divine. And folks are trying to write the genesis and they find it challenging, so the first thing you have to let go is– assuming you know the end. You don’t know how it’s going to end. You have to start, and you have to listen.
Divine: The italicized portion really reminded me of the literary traditions of Phillis Wheatley. Are there any specific poets, or anyone in literary tradition that you take inspiration from?
Amanda: I love that you mentioned Phillis Wheatley, I’m gonna read a poem that I wrote in dedication to her today. And to think about her life, Phillis Wheatley Peters, who was stolen away from West Africa when she was only about seven years old. Kidnapped, and brought to the Americas, and enslaved. And then mastered her master’s tongue and wrote her way to freedom, it’s astonishing and it is a powerful reminder that whatever challenges I’m facing, to continue to lean into my art, to lean into my craft, and bravely and boldly move forward no matter the obstacles. Thank you for saying Phillis Wheatley Peter’s name. But beyond her, Lucille Clifton is someone whose work I always turn to and I feel her presence in my life. I had the privilege to meet her while I was a fellow and just the few moments that we shared together made a large impact, a substantial impact on my life. Her work is powerful and direct, while also being mysterious and full of surprise. If I could write a poem that is 1/10 of the power of ‘won’t you celebrate with me’, then I would have done my job.
Divine: I’m new to Clifton’s work, but I recently read Generations and it was amazing.
Amanda: Yes, Lucille Clifton, Toi Derricotte, and Sharon Olds. Those are my go-to’s. Whenever I feel like I’m running away from my truth, I look to their work. They are masters of being truth-tellers in their work.
Divine: What does it mean to be a truth-teller? Especially in this political climate. Can you talk about how poetry and art are revolutionary and how you see your writing fitting into that?
Amanda: Enslaved Africans would have been murdered if they knew that they were learning to read, learning to write. So our ancestors again, like Phillis, mastering our master’s tongue and being able to express ourselves. And then how that has been a key role in all of our advancement. Socially and politically, the arts have always been center to that. That is never far away from my function in creating. I know that I am here and able to do this because of what my foremothers and forefathers have done, and that that matters, and motivates me.
Divine: Are there any specific themes that you find yourself returning to?
Amanda: I’m heavily informed by all of the everyday. It is a miracle that we’re here. And not just because of aforementioned things and history, but that the precise moment that that atom, with all of the necessary genes and compounds in it, said poof! You will be. And that we’re here. I could start crying at any moment, just all of every day. Family, love, the full spectrum of our emotional capacity, wonder, space, I could sit for hours and just look at the sky. Imagination right? All of that forms my writing. And I want to be open to more. I don’t want to be limited to writing about anything. That’s also a very specific and intentional act of freedom. I’ve said that if you come and expect me to write about one thing, may I please surprise you and intrigue you with many things I am curious about and write about.
Divine: I love that. Especially when I feel like so many black artists feel like they have to write in the box.
Amanda: I’ll say that too, and there’s a difference. Culturally, whatever your background is, you have a right to your story. Your history, the history of your people, your culture. And you should celebrate it, and share that. But as an artist, I know when I’m writing something because I’m drawn to it, because I feel an artistic impulse to create, and when my conscience is starting to worry more about the audience. And that’s when I stop. Because I should not be writing, or creating, with the audience’s comfort or expectation in mind. First, the art, the writing, should be doing the work that it needs to do for me internally. And you can tell when that vulnerability is genuine because that’s what people connect with. Again, with me, it comes back to the connection, and I don’t think it’s possible to have that when you’re trying to make something that is ultimately to be commodified. And that commodification is the goal.
Divine: How do you know when the poem is done?
Amanda: I’m still working on poems that are over a decade old. I don’t know that I’m ever fully satisfied with a poem being fully done, but I do know when a poem is ready to be shared. And because my focus and desire for connectivity is there, I do want it to be shared. Now, shared can mean that I’m sharing it with you right now, I’m publishing it, or I’m writing it on a notecard to a friend. But sharing it so that it can reach another person, I know when it’s ready to be shared. You’ll see sometimes in collections, and this is what comforts me when I’m like, ugh, maybe I could have done something different, or I see something that I’ve shared, and I’m like, oh, I would’ve done that a little differently. You’ll see in books or poetry collections, ‘a previous version of this poem’ in the notes section, when it’s published in XYZ, so I’m like, oh, there are all just previous versions. So, nothing is in cement until it’s in cement, and then you could buy some more cement.
Divine: How do you navigate not centering the audience or the publishing world where there is this pressure to write specific stories and writing what you feel?
Amanda: A lot of talking to myself and reminding myself that I am enough. I’m grateful for the people in my life, and the tremendous amount of love and support I receive from my husband, my daughters, my mother, my family, my aunt. I still feel my Granny on my shoulder. So that reminds me that I’m enough. And so, it doesn’t have to go anywhere else. If it has done its work on me, then I can sit and feel that that’s enough. If it goes anywhere else, if it does anything else in the world, then it’s because it was supposed to. We have very little control over it. You do your work, you share it, right? But whether it gets published, whether it gets acknowledged, whether it wins an award, that’s not the focus, that’s not the point. You’re enough. And that you listened to that very special calling to create, that is unique to us, my god. Again, we’re miracles.
Divine: Has being the Texas Poet Laureate changed your writing process at all?
Amanda: No.
Divine: Nice. Short and sweet. Is there any project you’re specifically working on during this time?
Amanda: Yes, I do have a state-wide project. Praisesong for the People. So I knew from when I was even nominated to be the Texas Poet Laureate, I knew that if I were named I wanted to do something that would make an impact in the lives of poets, and the people of the State of Texas and that I wanted it to focus on our incredibly diverse, inclusive, generously kind, loving community. We get lost in sound bites, and if you look at the news, you would think that Texas, like everywhere else in the world, is full of hate, but it’s not. And I don’t believe people could live anywhere if it was full of hate. People flee beautiful places because of the evil people that are there, and the fact that we’re here, I’m here, I’m able to live here in this state because of the amazing people who live here and also call it home. So Praisesong for the People is commissioning 70 poets across the state from our incredibly diverse, intersecting communities to write praise poems celebrating everyday people and their communities. Those poems are online at praisesongforthepeople.com, and the poems just make me sit there in awe. I’m so deeply moved to see people receiving their flowers from these incredible poems.
Divine: Are there any projects in your past that you feel uniquely represent you and your work for our readers who might want to read more from you?
Amanda: I mean, again, I own everything. I own it all, so Google whatever you find. Just make sure it’s the right Amanda Johnston. It’s a common name, so there are a lot out there. I’m not a pianist from Canada. But anything that I’ve done, that’s me. That’s this life.