My mother made the same brilliant impression upon my childhood's eye. She shone for me like the Evening Star. I loved her dearly—but at a distance. My nurse was my confidante. Mrs. Everest it was who looked after me and tended all my wants. It was to her I poured out my many troubles, both now and in my schooldays.

It’s been amazing to be able to spend so much time with her. I’ve joined a couple of tours last year and I’m going to visit her in Denver soon. And that sense of trust we were talking about, I mean, she really pushes me to do anything I want to do. She’s really helping to instill a new kind of confidence in me, whether that’s collaborating with a certain musician or visual artist, or indulging in a different style of improvisation…

Still, I do have people I turn to before that point… I’ll send my ideas or images to a friends group chat or I ask my boyfriend, you know? Also, my dad has always been such an important figure in my life, and still is. He’s probably the most knowledgeable person I know.

Anyhow, I talked it over with my mother, and she said, “Well, if that’s what you want, go right ahead.” She was a wonderful woman. And so I did.

He was one of those persons, certainly, but my sister, my grandmother and uncle who raised me, who taught me, by their actions, that it was good to be good, that it was nice to be nice, influenced me more than any other persons have since that time.

The music of the “I Have a Dream” speech is a replication of the music which comes out of the mouths of the African American preacher. Preacher, singer, blues singer, jazz singer, rap person, it is so catching, so hypnotic, so wonderful that, as a poet, I continue to try to catch it, to catch the music.