Remembering Nikki Giovanni, the iconic poet who taught me how to exist with freedom

They say, “Never meet you heroes,” and I say, they couldn’t be more wrong. Back in 2017, I had rare opportunity to interview the legendary Dr. Nikki Giovanni here at Salon, where we had a transformative exchange that changed me. On Monday, she passed at 81. 

Nikki Giovanni – poet, educator and literary giant who authored of over 25 titles including “Black Judgement,” “A Good Cry” and “Black Feeling, Black Talk” – was a special kind of public figure. By special, I mean her name has become synonymous with poetry similar to the way Muhammad Ali comes to mind when we think about boxing. Many have never seen Ali put on a pair of gloves, but they know his influence has shaped the game, just as I knew who Nikki Giovanni was before someone shared her poem Nikki-Rosa with me, where she wrote to me:

and I really hope no white person ever has cause   

to write about me

because they never understand

Black love is Black wealth and they’ll

probably talk about my hard childhood

and never understand that

all the while I was quite happy

I know she didn’t write it directly to me, but she was speaking directly to me. As a student, I would continue to read her work, becoming frustrated with the poems that I did not understand and then thanked God for all of her classic interviews appearing on YouTube that gave me new clarity and a hunger to go back and revisit those poems. I gained new meanings for the ones I thought I could comprehend and peace when they guided me into places I may have never been. This was years before I thought about getting a book deal, before I ever published anything, before I ever even felt that I would be able to survive this industry. But time passed and I kept reading Giovanni, and I did try, I did publish, I did make a few aggressive attempts at existing in the literary world, which landed me at Salon, where I was given the opportunity to meet my hero. 

“Never meet you heroes.”

I don’t want to ruin anyone’s dreams so I’ll say this, sometimes that’s good advice. One of my former favorite comedians is an a**hole who talks bad to his staff, and one of my favorite actors had a remarkable breakdown after smelling imaginary fumes. I was also at a party with a guy who used to be one of my favorite music executives, until I found out he was the biggest narcissistic womanizer that the good Lord has ever created. There is some truth to being better off avoiding your heroes. With that being said, I had no anxiety on my way to the Giovanni interview. She was on a press run for her book “A Good Cry,” and many on our staff were excited that the great Nikki Giovanni was blessing our studio with her presence.

Sometimes we imagine Hollywood types and icons in general will stroll in with teams of 30 people, all individually responsible for something like hair or makeup or PR. But Giovanni came in with just one other person – and she was beyond pleasant, delicate, and calm – and she was direct, and told nothing but the truth, over and over again. 

I was in a weird place in my career, where I was too Black for many of the people dominating mainstream publishing, and too much of a success story to have a normal experience back in my neighborhood. I didn’t think I was a thug or a nerd, but was constantly feeling like a man with no nation. I did not take this problem to Giovanni directly, but instead, just listen to how she saw the world and how she saw herself. We all know that Giovanni’s name comes up with other greats like James Baldwin and Toni Morrison; however, her language, her demeanor and what she seemed to get excited about had nothing to do with worldly or literary praise. The real prize was her. Giovanni was 1,000% comfortable being her, living out her own dreams and existing inside of her own skin. 

So, if you felt like she was too Black for the function, or too successful for the function, or too into space and developing far-out ideas for the function, then that was your business as much as it was your loss, because she was totally content using all of the extra time to pour into the people and things she loved, all of which loved her back. 

From Giovanni, I indirectly learned that the industry is a joke, that the people who praise you will quickly turn their backs on you, and that all of their love is temporary, conditional and not even worth it. She introduced me to the kind of freedom that I did not know existed. The freedom that comes with fighting to create the best work, not fighting to belong. 

That meeting not only gave new meaning to the poems I thought I understood, it gave new meaning to who I was becoming as a person and I’m forever grateful for that. Your integrity, your family, your personal village is what matters – the rest is noise, which you can focus on or simply turn off. I met my hero, and she effortlessly elevated my being. 

I continued to keep in contact with Giovanni over the years, and was fortunate enough for her to not only give insight, but a valuable endorsement to the most vulnerable book I ever wrote. She also presented me with the CityLit’s Dambach Award for Service to the Literary Arts, which brought tears to my eyes, because she truly did not have to take time out of her busy life to celebrate me. These are the acts of kindness that drive me – and challenge me to always be the kind of person who is available to educate, support and listen to the next generation. 

Nikki Giovanni has made it easier on me, and now I have the task of trying to do that for the many creators who are still trying to figure it out. 

Thank God I met my hero.