This is Poetry Moment on WPSU – a weekly program featuring the work of contemporary Pennsylvania poets. Your host is poet and author Marjorie Maddox, a 2023 Monson Arts Fellow, author of more than 20 books, and Professor Emerita of English and Creative Writing at the Lock Haven campus of Commonwealth University.
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Welcome to Poetry Moment.
It’s the beginning of Black History Month.
A poem of hard lessons and courage, “Tea Scars” by Mariah Ghant is both forewarning and reassurance. Addressing the “little girl who resembles me,” the poet recounts how to vanquish curses “when people move you to feel any less / golden-gilded than you will grow to be.”
Mariah Ghant (she/her) is a Black, multi-hyphenate artist based in Philly. Forever fantasizing on the phenomenal, Mariah’s writing explores relationships, identity, and the cosmos. Visit her poetry on Instagram @mariah.g.poetry or check out her artist website, mariahghant.co [mariahghant.com] to find more of her writing and artistry.
How does a child learn to believe in herself, especially when faced with “sour sneers” and “pointing fingers”? In today’s poem, “Tea Scars,” Mariah Ghant considers how a mother’s example and support can “morph” pain into a “medallion,” one worn jubilantly as a glowing reminder of self-worth.
Here’s “Tea Scars” by Mariah Ghant.
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Little girl who resembles me with your
bright, plastic bow barrettes knocking too close
to your eyes and matching striped shirt with loose
leggings; I want to warn you. One day, when the world
feels crisp and smooth like the perfect
pb&j, you’ll find a crushed box thrown away
in the cobweb avenues of your mind, left alone
with the bow ripped off and a drab, desolate
card scribbled with “you’re welcome.” When you
move to open it, all those sour sneers and cruel
fingers pointing to tease your dripping
nappy hair after being pulled out of the pool—all that
and more—will sink into the gaping place between
your shoulders. You will know this is no normal
gift. Feel that mauve dread moving in, the same
shade of mom’s nightgown. She will wear it like
a cape to lull you out of this broken nightmare.
Listen to her. She will teach you to morph
that gift-wrapped burden into a medallion.
Wear it with jubilance. And when she gives you
a mantra for your mahogany beauty, burn it
onto the roof of your mouth like hot tea.
It will prove powerful against these curses
when people move you to feel any less
golden-gilded than you will grow to be.
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Originally featured in Philadelphia Stories Winter Issue 2021
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That was “The Rocky Mountain Locust Surge” by Mark Danowsky. Thanks for listening.
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Listen for Poetry Moment with Marjorie Maddox Mondays during Morning Edition and All Things Considered on WPSU. You can more episodes at wpsu.org/poetrymoment.
Our theme music is by Eric Ian Farmer.
