Lucille Clifton was my feminist foremother.

Lucille Clifton has died. I wish her much peace on wherever her journey may now take her. I have always loved her poetry - strong, direct, unashamed and unabashedly black and female.

This was the first poem I read of hers:

wishes for sons

i wish them cramps.

i wish them a strange town

and the last tampon.

i wish them no 7-11.

i wish them one week early

and wearing a white skirt.

i wish them one week late.

later i wish them hot flashes

and clots like you

wouldn't believe. let the

flashes come when they

meet someone special.

let the clots come

when they want to.

let them think they have accepted

arrogance in the universe,

then bring them to gynecologists

not unlike themselves.

I read that in 7th grade. And we little girls, oh my god - we LOVED that poem. We bonded with that poem. We talked about it for days after. It was this voice which acknowledged our experience, and sympathized with it, without ever resorting to victimhood. We felt vindicated. It was awesome. We would quote that poem to each other, and it was always followed by a "Fuck, yeah!" It was the first time I had seen male privilege pointed out, and it was liberating.

Later, I would read "my dream of being white," about fighting colonialism and be humbled by my own privilege; "homage to my hips" made me love my own curves; "the times" was a look directly into the face of seemingly pointless tragedy.

But it was her poem "i am accused of tending to the past" that has always haunted me; it is revolutionary, and dangerous, and I am waiting. She will.

i am accused of tending to the past
as if i made it,
as if i sculpted it
with my own hands. i did not.
this past was waiting for me
when i came,
a monstrous unnamed baby,
and i with my mother’s itch
took it to breast
and named it
History.
she is more human now,
learning languages everyday,
remembering faces, names and dates.
when she is strong enough to travel
on her own, beware, she will.