Mahogany L. Browne, Lincoln Center’s first poet-in-residence, is a woman of many talents, but is probably best known for her poem “Black Girl Magic,” published in 2018. The poem celebrates and uplifts the talents and strengths of Black women and girls, and is an ode to a rich history of role models — but also a conversation of young Black girls, just like she was once.
Ironically, she would have never come around to poetry had it not been for Urban Word, an organization creating a safe space for youth to explore and express themselves through poetry and other literary arts. Browne has been raising money for the organization since the release of her book through the annual Black Girl Magic Ball at the Lincoln Center, which this year will honor Maori Karmael Holmes, Nona Hendryx, and Sade Lythcott, among others.
The AmNews spoke with Browne ahead of the event, slated for May 13.
AmNews: Tell me about your upbringing in the [California Bay Area]. It seems you were very adamant in your younger years that you wanted to stay in the Bay Area. But then you had this summer residency at the Pratt Institute in the late ‘90s.
Mahogany L. Browne: I thought I was going to be a Cali girl forever. I went to high school in Sacramento, came back after graduation, and worked at the Children’s Hospital for Oakland, the Sprint telemarketing area for the operators in Alameda. I was everywhere, I just love [California]. It’s such a pleasant place to grow up, and you don’t realize how much of that feeds your curiosity and your nervous system.
I had no intention of staying in New York. Cali people love Cali. It felt like that was, you know, like that little summer opportunity in New York. I’ll just come, do this journalism internship and then go back home and be their West Coast correspondent.
Even while doing all the things that I did in Oakland, I had never been in a position to just be an artist. I could be an artist who worked at the hospital. I could be an artist who could have another job, but I wasn’t just going to be paid to be an artist. [Employers in California] told me “no, no, no, that’s not what we’re paying you for.”
I found New York to be extremely attractive, because nowhere else in the world at that point — I think I was 23 — had I been given an opportunity to just think about what my art could do if given a chance.
AmNews: What was it about the time and place that made you stay?
MLB: My first week of interviews was like muMs da Schemer, Lil’ Kim, and Method Man and Redman. And I’m listening to this music growing up, right? So for this to just be a Tuesday? There’s nothing like that in the world.
Even in L.A, I think it’s fair to say, you can’t have that same experience. New York had that energy when it came to quote, unquote, “realness.” In L.A. it’s a lot of putting on airs and you had to look a certain way to be invited to a certain place. It was weird and fake.
In New York, they respected you if you did the work. They respected you if you had skin in the game. I loved that I could just work hard and prove myself, and that would be considered worthy. So I think that’s what [New York] has over [California].
AmNews: So the Black Girl Magic Ball will honor five changemakers, leaders, and creatives, and an ally honoree. But I want to focus on the fundraising efforts of Black Girl Magic Ball, which will help fundraise for Urban Word. Tell me why Urban Word is special. Why was it established and who does it serve? And what are the origins of the Black Girl Magic Ball?
MLB: Urban Word is a space. Urban Word is a youth literary organization. It was originally the East Coast branch of Youth Speaks, but the organization broke off because of the way California moves, and the way New York has to move — it’s just very different. So they went their separate ways, but still share some things like the International Poetry Festival. But that’s how we get Urban Word.
I personally was intrigued by [Urban Word] because I came to poetry in high school, by hook or by crook — well, literally by crook. My AP Lit teacher said she would flunk me because she didn’t like the language that I used in the poetry assignment, and that was enough for me to be like, ‘Oh, I’ll never do this again!’
So to be part of Urban Word, it felt like a welcome home moment, because I got to fight for the little girl that I once was. I got to fight alongside these young people who are constantly being told whether how they speak makes their story valid or not. That’s Urban Word — that’s their fight. They’re on the front line of reminding the young people that they have a voice, that despite their age, they are still necessary, and we need them to speak the truth.
Black Girl Magic Ball began [in a] very small shop. It was my book release party, and I didn’t want to just do another book release party. I was artistic director at Urban Word, and that was my attempt to raise money for an organization that I had been working with and had loved for so long.
It made sense. I thought it would be a one off. We did the event, we raised the money. We had great attendance. We also had people, like, that were really in love with the idea. And that’s when I realized, ‘Oh, we don’t really have a space for Black girls to feel safe.’ We asked so much of them. We asked them to be the blueprint. We asked them to, you know, tell us how to do our hair and how to be funny and whatever else. But we’re also the butt of the joke as often as possible. And so what does it mean to just have a space where nobody is making fun of you or using you as a transaction? But that’s what the Black Girl Magic Space is.
AmNews: I want to talk about that a little more about that. You’re not just a poet, you are also helping run and lead these events. You are also the Lincoln Center’s first poet-in-residence. Being the “first” can be a double-edged sword firstly as a “woman” but more so as a Black woman. But I read that you wanted this event to be an affirming event and celebration. What does it mean to you to be the first poet-in-residence in such a huge cultural institution that’s recognized worldwide? And what helps you affirm your own work?
MLB: I think to be the inaugural anything is heavy, right? Because you don’t know what you don’t know. I was concerned [about the Lincoln Center] because like — well, do you know who I am? Are you aware that I speak like this at all times? And as long as you’re OK with that, I’m good. And they were, they were OK with that!
I think for me to just realize that you don’t have to whitewash who you are. You got to find the organization that’s brave enough to work with you. So that was really a monumental moment, and it went from a three-month opportunity to a five-year tenure.
AmNews: Hell, yeah!
MLB: Right? Never have I ever! I love it! When I think about what an archive looks like, or what a legacy can look like, I want poetry to exist in all spaces of this campus. So poetry beside the Philharmonic? Sign me up! Poetry as a response to ballet? Absolutely. Poetry libretto? I made one.
I just have been having a great time reminding the world that poetry is the epicenter of all things. We can create a poem that reverberates to the world as a play, as a film, as you know, a doctor dissertation, like academic research — it’s all of the things! It has capacity, yeah, all of those things.
AmNews: If there are young Black girls out there, what pieces of your own work would you suggest for them to read to get to know you?
MLB: I would say, obviously the Black Girl Magic Ball is created because of the book. The book is just centering Black women, celebrating them throughout the community. There isn’t any one way to show up and celebrate it — you being yourself is, that’s the celebration. So that’s obvious, but I think what I’ve just released feels very much like it’s in conversation with the “Black Girl Magic” theme, which is “A Bird in the Air Means We Can Still Breathe.” It’s a YA novel . It centers on young people in New York City impacted by COVID-19, and how they moved around, how they, you know, just from the foster care system to the, you know, to the shoe on Rikers Island, from being political speakers trying to raise funds and awareness during COVID. What did that look like and who was impacted? And of course, the chorus throughout, the narrators are two Black girls, one Trini, one Jamaican. And that feels like a great amuse-bouche of it all.
AmNews: What suggested reading do you have for Black Girl Magic Ball attendees?
MLB: If I’m thinking poems, it’s always Sonia Sanchez, Patricia Smith, Nikki Giovanni. If it’s a play, I would say a play by Lynn Nottage or Lorraine Hansberry. If it’s nonfiction, I would say Imani Perry’s “Black in Blues.” If it is short stories, I would say Deesha Philyaw, “Secret Lives of Church Ladies.” Oh! And Jesmyn Ward’s “Salvage the Bones.” I think that covers most things. For more info, visit mobrowne.com and blackgirlmagicball.org.