BP MARKOWITZ NAMES TINA CHANG OF PARK SLOPE AS NEW POET LAUREATE OF
New "Bard of Brooklyn" envisions outreach into
On February 3, Brooklyn Borough President Marty Markowitz announced at his annual State of the Borough Address that Tina Chang of Park Slope has been named the new poet laureate of
"I am thrilled to appoint Tina Chang to this position, and she will truly embrace the role of
"I see myself as an ambassador and activist on behalf of poetry," Chang said. "Over the past decade, I've given myself over to poetry completely, engaging students, teachers, writers, librarians, the young, the aging, as well as many people of diverse cultural and social economic backgrounds."
All submissions were reviewed by members of the Brooklyn Poet Laureate Recommendation Committee, which then submitted a short list of finalists to the borough president. Besides Chang, the list included poets Tracie Morris and Jessica Greenbaum. "The committee did a tremendous job of identifying the best candidates for poet laureate," BP Markowitz added.
Chang is the author of Half-Lit Houses and the editor of Language for a New Century: Contemporary Poetry from the Middle East,
Ken Siegelman, who served as
Chang envisions the possibility of creating an Adopt-a-Poet Day at
Members of the Poet Laureate Recommendation Committee were: Julie Agoos, coordinator of the MFA Program in Poetry at Brooklyn College, where she is Tow Professor of English; Robert N. Casper, programs director for the Poetry Society of America; Linda Susan Jackson, poet and associate professor of English at Medgar Evers College; Dionne Mack-Harvin, executive director, Brooklyn Public Library; and Anthony Vigorito, poet and retired teacher who assisted former poet laureate Ken Siegelman with Brooklyn Poetry Outreach.
Criteria for the position required that every applicant for the position be a Brooklyn resident with recognition as a poet, as well as a demonstrated commitment to using the position for community outreach and projects that promote poetry and/or literacy in the borough of
Praise
Tina Chang
All night long there was digging, and the bodies like accordions
bent into their own dying instruments, and even after this,
after the quake, there was, in news reports, still singing:
A woman's clapping was followed by another who shuffled
and dragged her own apparition through the ruined streets,
though each one knew the anthem the other was singing.
History taught them better. No one was coming.
The film crews had their sights on the large hotels,
the embassies. So they set to digging with their hands
and with the shoes of those who were no longer alive.
And with that, night fell and fell again
like an old black pot tumbling to the ground.
When a man dies, the first thing that goes is his breath,
and the last thing that goes is his memory.
I once saw this civilization passing through a great white door,
people weeping, then the weeping was followed by the sound
of tambourines rattling the heavy air, something that sounded
like celebration only livelier and more holy, voices rising,
and then a marching into the dusty road of the next century.
When shelter is gone, find your solace on the ground.
And when the ground is gone, lift yourself and walk.
And after all the great monuments of your memory
have collapsed, with the sky steady above you,
you shatter that too, with song