The title poet laureate implies a certain weight and brevity, like a Greek man, laureled, orating on high as a plinthed sculpture. But the US has a national poet laureate. The post is currently held by Ada Limon, who is bringing poetry to national parks. Additionally, forty-four states, numerous tribal nations, counties, and cities across the country have laureates. Each of those positions has different roles and responsibilities, of course. I’m sharing my perspective on what it is to be a poet laureate in the hopes of creating dialogue around being the public face of poetry in a community.
The history of our laureateship, or a prompt for how to create one in your town:
Gulfport, FL, a little town on Tampa Bay of 13,000 people, has had a thriving visual arts scene for many years. The circle of friends group at the public library felt that the literary scene was not being represented and proposed creating the title. The city council agreed and created the program in 2016.
The only requirements for our town’s program are to offer at least three events, readings or workshops, during the three-year term. I’m the fifth poet laureate and wanted to see the program expand. Traci Brimhall was a guest on the latest episode of the Southword poetry podcast. What she said about being a poet laureate really resonated with me and felt like what I have been trying to do in my tenure.
What I do as laureate, or tips for how to
run an open mic:
I see being a poet laureate as a promoter and steward of poetry for everyone in
my community. Personal readings tend to elevate a poet’s own
work, and workshops tend to attract people who already write poetry. To reach the broadest number of people, I
started a monthly poetry open mic night at our public library. Anyone can come and listen to poetry, recite
a poem that holds meaning for them, or share a poem they’ve written.
· You put your name in the hat, and the reading order is luck of the draw. That way, everyone stays to hear everyone read.
· Each person gets five minutes or gets to read two poems. Everyone gets a chance to read, and there are no manifestos.
· As the host, I’m holding space for everyone. More than moving chairs and turning on the microphone, I have to create a welcoming space that is open for poets at all skill levels. I encourage sharing your poetry gifts. People tend to apologize for their poems; it’s not very good, it’s new, it’s this little thing. You don’t apologize when you give someone a gift. Don’t apologize when you give someone poetry.
· I share local community poetry opportunities, readings, workshops, and calls for publication so people know more ways to stay connected with the broader poetry scene in our area.
· I ask for a $5 donation for the friends of the library. No one is turned away for not donating, but the money is used to buy poetry books for the library. Poetry is not usually at the top of a library’s strained budget, so the donations raise the profile of poetry in the collection. Each month, I share how much people raised and which books the money bought. I provide the library with suggestions each month based on what are the anticipated new books. They in turn, promote the books and the program by displaying them for National Poetry Month and in August for the Sealey Challenge.
· We skip November and December so poetry doesn’t become a burden during the holidays.
· I promote the program. The library promotes it in their space, and I put the word out on social media, to the press, and with our state poetry society.
We’ve had professional screenwriters come and share their first-ever poem. We’ve had a long-published poet come with his partner, a professional painter, who shared pieces from their last collaboration while she’s fighting her terminal illness. We’ve had slam poets share their poems with their toddlers twirling through their legs. The poems have been tearjerkers, hilarious, and everything in between.
Yes, I also write poems for events and anthologies specific to our town, as many laureates do, but I see the open mic program as the most important thing I have to offer. It puts poetry in front of the public, it provides a friendly venue for local poets, it supports the mission of our award-winning library, and it elevates the arts, which are currently a political punching bag.
The Academy of American Poets offers grants to poet laureates around the country. I am not yet eligible for that program as my full-length collection has been a contest finalist, but has not yet been published. I hope to be able to apply for that program in the future and bring poetry to even more of our community with poetry at our town art walks and gallery openings.
I just finished my first year in the position, and the program has successfully survived two hurricanes and a venue change. I expect we’ll continue to bring in strong crowds, and I hope the next laureate is inspired to continue the program.
Christa Fairbrother, MA, is a disabled poet currently serving as Gulfport, Florida’s poet laureate. She’s had poetry in Crannog, Epiphany, Pleiades, and Salamander, among others, and she’s been a finalist for the Leslie McGrath Poetry Prize, the Wilder Prize, and was a Pushcart Prize nominee. She loves tea and avocados. Connect with her at www.christafairbrotherwrites.com, on IG @christafairbrotherwrites, or on BlueSky @christafairbrother.