2004-07-20 - 7:59 a.m.
Meditation on Langston Hughes’s “Harlem [2]”
When I was in [about] 4th grade, I won a book of poetry (100 Plus American Poems) in a poetry contest. I recently found it and started reading it again. There’s nothing like poetry from one’s youth to get one through difficult times—or to make one panic and cause difficult times. There are some really good poems in there, and some of the ones I really like were written by Langston Hughes. “Harlem [2]” also popularly known as “A Dream Deferred” isn’t in the book, but after reading Hughes’s other poems, I wanted to read “A Dream Deferred.” Yesterday, I purchased a collection of Hughes’s poetry and was unable to put it down. His language is simple yet powerful. The way he writes and his imagery are beautiful things. He gives a voice not just to blacks, but to almost everyone. There is much sadness there, but there is also hope. He had much hope for the future of his people. I find it sad when I walk down the streets of my neighborhood and think that, for many, the future Hughes envisioned never really materialized and probably never will. (Maybe I should stand on a street corner with microphone in hand and recite some of these poems.)
So, I’m taking this poem out of context, but I don’t think the words lose any of their meaning.
“Harlem [2]”
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
“What happens to a dream deferred?”
The thought of a dream deferred is a powerful thing, and it brings tears to my eyes whenever I think of it. Put this idea in the context of, say, deferring a student loan. Think of all of the years….The idea of deferring one’s dream(s) is a sad thing. To know what one wants and to not have the wherewithal to attain or achieve it, or, perhaps, to almost be able to achieve it, but to have circumstances hold you back.
“Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?”
Does it? Will deferring one’s dream make it get smaller and more difficult to attain? The thought of a dream drying up...That kills me. To lose all hope? Man.
“Or fester like a sore—And then run?”
The idea is pretty much the same as above, except this can be even worse. The idea of one’s dream just staying on the back burner dying in its own vastness and then just getting really messy is also really sad.
“Does it stink like rotten meat?”
This is bad. Your dream dies and you are reminded of it and the stench is with you and around you.
“Or crust and sugar over—like a syrupy sweet?”
Don’t let this image fool you. So it’s not as ugly as the images before it, but this can be even worse than the others. Having something sweet and not getting to it in time to enjoy it? You can look at it, but you still can’t have it.
“Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.”
It is now a burden. Imagine thinking about what you could’ve been, what you could’ve done, where you could’ve gone…..This breaks my heart.
“Or does it explode?”
I’m still not sure of this one. This is the only line that’s in italics. Does it explode? Is this a happy ending? Does the dream finally make itself happen? This is probably not a happy ending. It takes so long that one might find one’s dream burst and disappear, paradoxically, into many pieces.
In Hughes's case, the dream deferred is the equality or opportunities given to his people. One can witness the effects of a dream deferred everyday. The black people in my neighborhood sitting in doorways or in alleys getting drunk, yelling and swearing at each other up and down the street. The mother beating her kids in the supermarket. Crackheads. Thugs.
These are the results of a dream deferred.
Dear Langston Hughes, I'm sorry.
