University of Northern Iowa

Notes from a Southpaw

Author(s): A. Van Jordan
Reviewed work(s):
Source: The North American Review, Vol. 286, No. 2, The National Poetry Month Issue (Mar. Apr., 2001), pp. 10-12
Published by: University of Northern Iowa
Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25126565 .
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NAR

A. VAN JORDAN

From A Southpaw

Notes

Date: Monday, March 25, 1996,

just another day in DC,
and I drink with a friend
in Georgetown,

after

work.

I'm killing a couple of hours

before I hear Toni Morrison deliver
her Jefferson Lecture at the Kennedy
Inside the Crossing Guard bar,
the white bartender and all his white

Center.

patrons watch the afterglow of OJ's

civil case. A white guy in a gray suit
sidles

up

next

to me;

he holds his drink in his left,

a cigarette in his right.
The TV

switches,

now,

to news of the AIDS-related

death
of rapper Easy E. My friend
is not white, Iranian, and I'm the only black
in this bar in Chocolate City.
The guy sitting next to me
says he's tired of these niggers
like OJ, tired of rappers using the word
motherfucker. He says how would
they like to hear me call them all niggers.
are blurring, there's static and then distinctly,
again, Nigger. My friend now tries to capture me
in the spiral of his large, Persian eyes; he hopes

His words

I didn't hear the guy, but he knows me better than this.

Listen, I say, why don't you take that shit somewhere else?
He says, Vm not calling y ou a nigger unless you feel like one.
Note: Try not to feel
like one when white people call you this word. Remember
Don't give power to the word. I don't want him to think

FINALISTS

JAMES

HEARST

history.

POETRY

PRIZE
March/April 2001

10 NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW

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A.

Every
someone

JORDAN

he thinks I am. Does

I am everything

someone

time

VAN

white

black
See.

says,

makes

that make
11:00

the

the problem,

That's

and then Iwalk into a bar in Georgetown,

Question: What would Poirier do
in a situation like this?
What

a man

does

say, when

sense?

news,

want

doesn't

he

see?

to

erupt,

but still wants to act like aman?

I say, you just shouldn 'tbe so cavalier
about throwing around that word.
So the guy picks up his bar stool, holds it over his shoulder
like a baseball bat, tells me to say something else,
asks

a way

me?in

not

that's

really

question?if

I want some of this. I'm still cool. I tell him

/ don't

want

trouble.

any

That's

he

right,

says,

In American history, how many men

and sits back down. Question:
were called niggers in front of their wives and children
but couldn't do anything about it?
Iwonder
nigger
He

on

comments

to the

times he's used

how many
in his life.
his

who

bartender,

the word

victory

laughs

nervously.

Date: April 1972, recess at Schumacher Elementary,

I befriend the only white kid in school.
Even at this age, my other friends
think I'm crazy; they already had that lesson.
I learned mine when I beat him at racing,
and he called me aword I had never heard before;
his folks had already given him his lesson, too.
Nigger! Still bleeds inside my ear.
Date: October
19, 1977.
Iwas a boy, I used to fight all the time.
When
When we would box at the Y, although I'm right-handed,
a

I used

what
once

southpaw

to make
by

a guy

stance.

People

never

of it. I started this because

who

really

was

knew

I got beat

southpaw.

I never forgot the surprise and the pain

it.
of getting hit, when I least expected
a
with
left-handed
blur,
Rushing

FINALISTS

JAMES

HEARST

POETRY

PRIZE
NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW 11

March/April 2001

This content downloaded on Tue, 18 Dec 2012 08:21:54 AM

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NAR

which I only saw when he drew it back,

he set me up for the overhand right.
My hands shifted gears,
freckling his face,
the leather grazed and slipped.
Comb?nate! My trainer prayed, Comb?nate!

RICHARDLEVINE

But the southpaw cut the ring off

carrying nightfall in each hand.
Note:

I knew,

more

throw

Always

swollen

woman?my

my curiosity with

Touch

punch.

have to explain

if I got hurt, Iwould

a Christian

one

than

to my mother,
In the kitchen we found an opening
our eyes and laughter fell through.
eggs, we set out
Circling like magnetic
saucers
not to break.
and
and
tried
cups

eyes,

danger,

I got home.
my mouth, full of crimson?when
This held me back, this need to explain
to someone

who

loved

the Safe

Our spouses waited just the other side

of the door, but when her head
rolled back exposing her throat,
and her heat and perfume fanned my face,

me,

why I had to act like an animal, or,

yes, like a nigger. Note: It's been nearly 20 years
since I lived inmy mother's house.
Now, this white guy here in the suit,
he thinks I forgot
about him as I sip my beer and wait.

to embrace her, probing

Iwanted
for her soul with my swollen tongue,
the mere thought of all we'd never
done exploding between us like an airbag.

I size him up: he's a little bigger than me

but he's also a little older, which means
he probably has more to lose. Note:

Buttons and zippers and fingers

and lips all grew thick, and our flesh
spilled light as if spontaneous
were

combustion
The

one

who

has more

to

lose

always

could

be

lovers

as

easily

were

We

ready to be weak, when with a quick

tuck she put her hair and our senses
back in place, guiding our hands
to touch the safe making of coffee,

I turn to look at him,

and he looks at me; for this moment
we

possible.

loses.

as enemies.

in his face.
I throw my beer and it explodes
Beer and blood and niggers and whites

as if prudence
as

if we

were

could
not

smother

forever

a flame,

changed.

and I'm dancing in the middle of this constellation.

land clean. I'm standing over him now.
My punches
He tries to crawl away. But, it's too late. The history
that

stopped

me

earlier,

now,

won't

let me

stop.

Question: What will he learn from this beating

that I haven't learned from all of my losses?
And when the police get here,
tell me,
how do Imake them understand

FINALISTS

all of this?

JAMES

HEARST

POETRY

12 NORTH AMERICAN REVIEW

PRIZE
March/April 2001

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