Poem as Photograph of Generational Trauma

Julian Randall’s Refuse is an intimate look at the violence and trauma experienced being Black, biracial, and queer. Each of these poems is arguably a photograph; the poem in which this is directly pointed out in particular uses the layout of the stanzas to assist the reader in distinguishing what is the external and the internal (in relation to the photograph), as well as asserting his existence in the real world and in the poem itself. Generational trauma is complex in itself; and with the nuance of Randall’s identity, this poem is a photograph of all that affects a person with marginalized identities in a society that upholds white supremacy. 

Throughout the entire collection, Randall addresses the intersectionality of his identity. With the opening line, “In the photograph / which never existed,” it addresses a perspective toward taking photographs that could be financial or cultural. In the second stanza it states, “in the photographs / we have managed to save,” which again, can be interpreted as financial or cultural. The reader asks themself: what is worth keeping? To the speaker of this poem, this memory was worth keeping despite the lack of tangible preservation. 

Intersections continue with the comparison of the speaker of the poem to the other children. What seems like a simple descriptive line: “we’re outside of an FAO Schwarz / which was a place the other kids / at my school went to buy rocking horses / which cost hundreds of dollars,” is instead a brilliant execution of being witness to socioeconomic gatekeeping. Even the visual layout of the stanzas create this “me versus them”, which emphasize the differences of privilege between the white, wealthy child versus the Black working class child. It is as though the speaker of the poem is explaining what FAO Schwarz is to other fellow children of color who are working class with the price of the rocking chairs provided as reason why it was out of reach. This privilege is extended to their behaviors; white children who are “bestial with joy” are not only tolerated, but accepted which is not at all the reality for Black children, let alone a Black boy. 

In the beginning of this poem, the speaker of the poem, who is a Black boy, is unseen. He is an observer of the white children’s wealth and joy. However, when in the gaze of a white woman, he is now hyper visible when he declines this white woman’s touch. To the white person, his visibility is conditional on what said white person wants to see. This segways into the mention of his mother, who is a Dominican woman with vitiligo. The reader asks themself: why the mention of this white mother then his mother? Because of racial politics, it could very well be that other white mothers begin to treat him better once they see him with his perceived white mother. The assumptions made about his family add to the violent invisibilization of Randall in which the white viewer creates a narrative to their liking which erases the reality of his life. 

The stanza following shifts back to the speaker in his created photograph longing, “I had toys at home / but I wanted their toys / I don’t want to be them / but I want what they have.” I didn’t watch Taina but a quick search shows the synopsis: Taina Morales dreams of being a singer and actor, and must juggle family values and friends while attending the Manhattan School for Performing Arts. With only that synopsis as context, a reader, such as myself, will look at the speaker of this poem and see that he relates to Taina because of the similarities in their lived experience. He talks about grieving the cancellation while watching That’s So Raven and cleverly layers so many things together, as if constructing the image of him into this poem: the scarcity that comes with the white supremacist idea that one show with a Black female lead is enough, the scarcity in the material, and the scarcity that comes with not knowing or feeling there is a safe place to wholly be. 

The layers continue in the last stanza: the speaker of the poem superimposes himself in this memory and in this store to solidify his presence in this place. Though Taina is cancelled, he continues to live this drama: juggling family values and what it means to be Black and biracial, questioning one’s socioeconomic status, and longing for the permission and validation of one’s place and self.