"Mother to Son": The Gift of Black Literature and the Teachers Who Handed It to Me
Published by Langston Hughes, a leading voice of the Harlem Renaissance, for the first time in 1922 in Crisis Magazine, a publication dedicated to promoting Civil Rights, “Mother to Son” is a poem about a mother teaching her son to persevere in the face of oppression, while climbing her own way toward a better life. It is a lesson in resilience, a directive to keep ascending, even when the path is rough and uncertain.
When I stood before Mrs. Ogburn’s third-grade class to recite “Mother to Son,” I could feel my “childness” trying to hold something too large for my small hands—its mass and weight slipping through my fingers. While I couldn’t entirely grasp it, my eight-year-old mind knew I had come in contact with something so rich, so embodied with history, struggle, and hope that it could barely be contained within the few stanzas I had been tasked with delivering.
Even now, I can feel myself—so shy at the time—trying to enunciate the syllables of the words, rise and falling on the beat, just the way Mrs. Ogburn wanted us to: "Life for me ain't BEEN no crystal stair."
I didn’t have the language for it then, but I was learning something that was much bigger than an English lesson. Being encouraged (maybe "required" is a better word—the elders didn’t play) to immerse myself in the literary canon of my people assigned voice and meaning to where I came from. Reading, memorizing, and reciting their works gave me confidence in my personhood and value as a Black girl growing up in the South.
As I grew older, I came to fully appreciate the gift of Black teachers who not only immersed me in history and culture but also gave me literature that affirmed my identity and origins. Mrs. Ogburn didn’t just have us memorize the poem—she guided us through its themes of perseverance and agency, teaching us which words to emphasize, what emotion to bring forth, and how to stand in the truth of its message.
At a time when Black literature is being banned in schools and Black history is being stripped from curriculums, I am all the more grateful for Black teachers who poured into me. They taught me from their own rich experiences and from books that reminded me of who I was and where I came from and open a world of possibilities and aspirations I’ve yet to grow into. They made sure that I understood that our stories are honorable and worthy of being told.
Today, I honor Mrs. Ogburn and the rich literary legacy Langston Hughes and others passed down to kids like me so that I can pass it down to the generations of writers I serve today.
What is one Black literary work that shaped you in a special way? Tell me in the comments what made it so significant.