Poetry Connection with Sojourner Kincaid Rolle

Melinda Palacio and Sojourner Kincaid Rolle

(previously published by Melinda Palacio in the Santa Barbara Independent)  

 

One of the most important poetry connections I’ve made is with fellow laureate, Sojourner Kincaid Rolle. I first met Sojourner twenty-three years ago when I was a journalist, before I had any published poetry. I admired her for her natural ability to inspire and foster confidence in others. Little did I know, she was showing me how to become a poet and a community leader simply by being herself and including me in her poetry readings and local activities, such as the Dr. Martin Luther King celebration and mentoring of young poets. She was magic, or so it seemed to me. I remember asking her why she would want to share her stage with an unknown writer, such as myself. She said she enjoyed offering a forum to new writers and embraced inclusivity. 

 

Everything she does from playwriting, to mediation, to standing for social justice, to teaching writing for adults and children, stems from a position of joy. It’s no accident that her mother named her Joy; “Sojourner” is the poet’s chosen name for herself. She’s had a precarious relationship with her name. When she was in high school, she called herself Sad Kincaid because she was quiet and shy. Later, she started writing poems about accepting joy and her name. She says the move to Joy started after she turned 25 and took a job as a clerk at the New York Public Library. 

 

She blossomed into Sojourner Kincaid Rolle who writes about nature, the earth, people, love and peace. Rolle, as a last name, came along when she married photographer Rod Rolle. What started as a blind date in North Carolina has led to a relationship that is forty some years strong, half of Sojourner’s life. Last Saturday, she celebrated her 80^thbirthday. She has lived in Santa Barbara for 38 years. There isn’t a community or nearby group she hasn’t helped or stood with. She may have been born in North Carolina, but she is California’s poet. She made her mark in Oakland before moving to Santa Barbara where she is a town fixture. 

 

Her birthday party, a more subdued celebration due to her ongoing battle with cancer, showed how loved she. Many people came by on extremely short notice and those who didn’t get the invitation in time, continue to drop by her home to celebrate her.

 

While Sojourner is often called upon to recite celebratory poems, she doesn’t shy away from difficult subjects. Her latest book, Free at Last: a Juneteenth Poem is picture book about Juneteenth, the proclamation in Galveston to end slavery, now a national holiday. Her video reciting her poem about Juneteenth has gone viral and has traversed the world through the internet, the buzz led to a book deal. 

 

In her early days, Sojourner knew she had a way with words, even though she didn’t often express herself. Her grandmother, who had seven children and 26 grandchildren, encouraged her recite poems at church. She was a woman who did not abide disobedience. “My grandmother raised me to be well spoken and intelligent, two things important to her,” she said. Sojourner is not surprised about her own oratory and poetic ability. She says she inherited her way with words from her father: “my dad would stand in front of the fireplace, warming his hands, he would tell stories and people were fascinated.”

 

Sojourner wears many different hats: author, playwright, actress, songwriter, peace activist, naturist, nature writer, environmentalist, speaker, social justice activist, teacher (she has taught young children, older adults, and incarcerated adults), radio host, lawyer, mediator, the people’s poet, to name a few. I am proud she is my friend. It is because of her mentorship that I am now her colleague and fellow Santa Barbara Poet Laureate. 

 

 

A video of Sojourner reading her Juneteenth Poem, here.

 

A Poem that Ends in Love 

by SK Rolle (previously published in her book Black Street)

 

 

I am a black poet

I claim Nikki Giovanni
4 albums, gospel choirs,
ego-tripping all

Invictus
Out of the night
that covers me…

I claim the church
black and white
Holy Ghost and Methodist

I’ve got to claim
The Bible

Genesis
And Psalms

Solomon
And Revelations

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I claim the music
Jesus and Porgy

I claim Sunday
And all the mornings
that come

I claim the drummers
And the singers
The rhythm setters
And the beat keepers

The footstompers
And the handclappers

The signifiers
And the silent criers

Both my grandmothers
And my mother

And Miss Hicks and
Miss Ruffin

I claim the Slab Town
Convention
Arriving on the Pea Vine Line

I claim Paul Robeson

And James Weldon Johnson

I claim Paul Lawrence Dunbar
I claim Langston Hughes

I claim Maya
And Gwendolyn
And Lucille
And Sonia

I’m claiming the fact
And the fiction

I’m claiming
The Color Purple
This Blue Body
And the Bluest Eye

The two Toni’s
And the two Walkers

For My People, Everywhere

Baldwin
Nina Simone

‘Cause they all
Made me come in
From the void

Into the universe of hues
Into the dreamed whirl

I’ve got to claim
The heavens

I’ve got to claim
The trees

The maples and the oaks
The spreading chestnut
The weeping willow

And
Water

Oh my, water
Magic elixir

And
Birds

No way one could begin to name
The flock the feather

And light

And hate

And love

I claim love