The section of Qwo-Li Driskill’s “(Auto)biography of Mad” I found myself coming back to is titled “Fear.” The poem in its entirety is harrowing, it rather clinically recounts the symptoms of the systemic oppression of indigenous Americans. “Fear,” however, seems to slightly deviate from some of the hard-hitting words and phrases that come before it, like the opening: “Abuse, Physical, ii, 3; / Sexual, Age 4; 28” (l.2-3). In some ways, it may seem counterintuitive to have some sort of incongruity in a poem of this magnitude— maybe it should all be unequivocally dark. I think that Driskill’s intent in including this section is to emphasize that people really are much more than just their trauma and life circumstances. Not every facet of a person is a direct result of their traumatic experiences. This is significant as it can help us in further humanizing, and aiding, minority groups of which we are not a part.
The section of “Fear” that I would like to point to is, “of hairs on the backs of hands, 14; / of loud noises, 19-28; / of men, 4, 14, 46, 128; / of pencils, ix, 4, 14, 26-28; / of people hiding in laundry piles, 3-28” (l.56-62). What first struck me about this section was the fact that I could make a clear link between some of these fears and the possible trauma that the narrator underwent. Loud noises and men as triggers are often attributed to trauma, and we can more readily understand why those would evoke an anxiety response. What about “hairs on the backs of hands,” or “pencils,” or “people hiding in laundry piles?” I believe those bring a sense of humanity to the poem that was intended to make this section even more impactful. While these fears could be related to trauma, they could also just be the result of being a human. People who have undergone horrific violence and trauma are still humans. They may have an irrational fear of “hairs on the backs of hands” for no particular reason. By attributing entire beings to their worst experiences, we reduce them to caricatures, rather than people.
This idea of fear as a natural byproduct of humanity is important to the overall theme of Driskill’s poems, which in turn relates to much of our course content. Yes, the narrator in Driskill’s poem “Map of the Americas” is angry about the cruelty their people have faced, but is also able to love a white man. In “Cherokee Love Haiku,” the narrator recounts a loving encounter, where, in “For Matthew,” the narrator, “…wanted the city to burn” (l.11). Indigenous people, queer people, people of color, women— they’re all people. They all deserve the space to have irrational fears, to mourn, and to love. In understanding that, we can then make appropriate space for all types of people, and dismantle oppressive systems.
To be honest, I didn’t really know how to read this poem, and when I first read through it I didn’t give it as much attention as I should have. I think the point you make about the more specific fears humanizing the narrator is super valid, and I think it could be interesting to look at the form of the poem in relation to that. It looks like an index, which is typically used in more scientific books that focus less on individual people and more on groups. I also wonder about the contrast between the scientific-ness of the index format and the emotions that are expressed in the poem.