I found the Introduction to From Totems to Hip Hop to be very enlightening. As a student who has grown up with the traditional "white" canon, I can honestly say that I know virtually nothing of the poetry of Poets of Color. Reed might pass this off as my desire to be lazy, to be unwilling to "do the work." His statement that, "They want everybody to join in the effort of making things easy and comfortable for them. They want an intellectual affirmative action to exempt them from studying other cultures as rigorously as everyone has studied theirs. That will enable them to bypass the hard work the rest of us have put into becoming acquainted with something Americans call Western Civilization," struck me as somewhat true, though not, in my case, as maliciously intentional as Reed suggests. While he seems to be referring to those poets and intellectuals who make the canon, in my case, the indoctrination of academia with regards to these different types of poetry sneaked in upon me, unknown, and took up residence. Until one knows that a bias exists, ridding oneself of it is out of the question. I do not feel that I know much about other cultures, especially compared to some, but this is not because I don't want to know. In some ways, I have been unaware of the academic canon's hold on me. In other ways, I have had to dedicate myself to other items of interest without having much time left over to become an expert on every other thing one could possibly be an expert in. It took me dating a young man of Mexican descent to even become aware that the social circles of my youth consisted of only white people. I wasn't biased against black people, hispanics, asians or any other race. I simply had no contact with them. And I had no contact with them because it never occurred to me to seek them out. 

Another reason I have been hesitant about learning about Poets of Color is from a general feeling that as a white person, I do not belong. And often, the feeling that those who belong to the group of poets of color do not want me to belong. And it is not merely from some awkward feeling for myself being in the wrong place and not fitting in that I hide from it, but a desire not to be perceived as trying to lay a claim to a piece of history that is not mine. Perhaps I will ask all of the wrong questions, or make statements that belie my ignorance of the topic. Perhaps I will come across as intolerant (unintentionally) or as though I'm trying to be something I'm not. Rational or not, these are legitimate feelings of a person who has always been white, in white South, with grandparents who were in the KKK and still use inappropriate terms to describe black people and hispanics. That is not me. But it is my heritage. I am embarrassed by it, because my history is a part of me. But how often can I apologize for the sins of my fathers and grandfathers? How often can I apologize for the misguided, fearful and inconscionable acts of my white heritage? Perhaps if I am knowledgeable, I will no longer have to apologize for where I come from. In this class, certainly, as with other classes at Mills, I am in the minority and I feel keenly the sting of not exactly belonging. I am glad that Ishmael Reed put such eloquent words to the feelings of marginalization I'm sure everyone sometimes (if not all the time) must feel.

--H.K. Rainey