FPP Interview: I.S. Jones

EDIT-9992In this FPP Interview, I.S. Jones shares how cooking can be a “reprieve from a legacy of blood,” how creating a professional future as a writer who creates spaces and security for other writers is the “work of the heart” she knows would be fulfilling, and much more.  Read her interview then RSVP to join us virtually on Sunday, April 18, 2021 from 6-8pm to hear I.S. Jones read with Ed Baptist, Ashaki Jackson, Kristin Palm, and Alison Stine.

In your poem “Cain” you re-imagine the Biblical characters Cain and Abel as sisters in what, to this reader, is a deeply satisfying reinterpretation. Could you tell us a bit about what inspired you to re-imagine the story this way?

I’ve been writing these poems since 2016 and it still dazzles me how my work reaches people, especially because I was very close to throwing this manuscript [chuckles]. I was still living in Astoria in 2016 with my sister and it was a very tumultuous time. Tr**p was just elected president, I was in a program that was dishonest about funding. I was deeply angry and that’s where “Cain” comes from. I need a safe space to put down my rage, least it goes elsewhere less safe. I also just deeply unsafe as a Black woman in an America that had become very proud to show it was a white supremacist nation. In the center of all that, my relationship with my sister was very brutal and violent. And that’s when the poems were born.

In your poem “Kitchen Work,” the speaker’s hands are “alchemical,” doing what it takes so that “no one goes hungry in my house.” Yet the speaker also declares: “Each of us knows a recipe for poison. I know my sister is allergic to peanut oil.” In this poem, and in so many others, you write profoundly and viscerally about life and death and how our own hands can make the difference. Are there scenes, or lingering images from your own life that you know have driven you to work with these themes?

I love to cook; cooking is one of my unfettered joys in this life. One of my earliest memories in the kitchen is my mother teaching me how to clean whole chicken and fishes. How to crack open a chicken’s ribs, how to descale a fish, how to skin a chicken, how to take out a fish’s red throat. The poem “Kitchen Work” is in the voice of Abel and I find her to be such a fascinating character because everything she understands about touch is inexplicably tied to death, so what if I could complicate her narrative. I think it’s a difficult position to be in: she has to keep killing to earn her keep, to prove her life is of value. In that way, much like myself, the kitchen is her reprieve from a legacy of blood.

Tell us about what “home” means to you. How does “home” differ for you and your other family members? Are the differences reconcilable? Does that matter?

This is a question that comes up in my chapbook. Years ago, Nimrod Journal had a call for poems about “home” and it occurred to me that I didn’t understand what the word means. I missed the deadline, but the question lingered. I’ll be honest with you that I still don’t know what “home” means. Home is my friends, my chosen family. Home is where my books are. Home is Brooklyn for me. Home is where I feel safest.

Your efforts show yourself to be a strong literary arts community builder. What has surprised you about this work?  What has enriched your own work?

Thank you for saying this, it means so much. It’s really the work of the heart for me. Last week I was talking to a teacher about what I wanted to pursue in terms of job prospects once I graduate. I was very frank and said, “I don’t want to teach. At least not in the conventional way.” I know I want the work I do to bring literary arts to larger communities. I want to generate funding for parents so they can have childcare and will have space to pursue their art with financial backing and without stress. I want to create physical space for immigrants seeking asylum. I have, for some time now, have been dreaming of create a multi-cultural space for all women and non-binary femmes called “The Immigrants Daughters Club” where we can share our stories of what it means to be children of immigrants. What surprises me about this work is hearing, “Wow, I need this” or “Thank you for doing this.”

I’m one of the editors for 20.35 Africa and right now we’re launching a fundraiser to be able to pay our staff, contributors, and mentorship program, an idea I pitched to Ebenezer Agu, 20.35 Africa’s founder when I first came onboard. I think about African Letters and the urgency I feel to create what the generation before us did not have and were unable to pass down to us. If I can dream big, and I know I can, I want to make conditions better than they are and pass that legacy onto the generation of writers coming behind me so that they can do even more than I was able to. Does it enrich my own work? Yes, I would say so. As I said, this is work of the heart. This is what I could spend my life doing and I would be fulfilled.

Announcing the Next Lineup for the First Person Plural Reading Series (Virtual) on Sunday, April 18, 2021!

Join us virtually on Sunday, April 18, 2021 from 6-8pm for the next reading by the First Person Plural Reading Series featuring Ed Baptist, Ashaki Jackson, I.S. Jones, Kristin Palm, and Alison Stine, hosted by Stacy Parker Le Melle. Grateful in advance for the fantastic poetry and prose we will hear this night. Admission is free. Zoom login information will be shared prior to the event. Please RSVP here.

More about the readers:

headshot3Ed Baptist grew up in Durham, North Carolina. He went to DC to attend Georgetown University. One day he was playing pickup basketball in the gym, and John Thompson was watching, but somehow Ed never got an invite to walk-on to the basketball team. So after he received his undergraduate degree he moved on and got his Ph.D. in History at the University of Pennsylvania.  At Cornell, he is Professor in the Department of History.  Together with faculty colleagues from four other universities, Baptist leads Freedom on the Move http://freedomonthemove.org, a collaborative effort to build a crowdsourced database of all North American fugitive slave ads.  The author of The Half Has Never Been Told: Slavery and the Making of American Capitalism, (2014) and Creating an Old South: Middle Florida’s Plantation Frontier Before the Civil War (2002), he also co-edited New Studies in the History of American Slavery with the late Stephanie Camp.

BA0A4045-EditDr. Ashaki M. Jackson, a Cave Canem and VONA alumna, is the author of two chapter-length collections — Surveillance (Writ Large Press, 2016) and Language Lesson (Miel, 2016). Currently an Executive Editor at The Offing, she served on the VIDA: Women in Literary Arts Board and mentored for both the PEN USA Emerging Voices program and WriteGirl. Jackson, along with Alyss Dixson and Xochitl-Julisa Bermejo, also co-founded Women Who Submit, a national community that supports women and nonbinary writers in submitting their literary works to top tier publications. Readers may find her poetry and essays in Obsidian, 7×7 LA, CURA, Prairie Schooner, Midnight Breakfast, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, and Bettering American Poetry, among other publications. She earned her MFA (poetry) from Antioch University Los Angeles and her doctorate (social psychology) from Claremont Graduate University.

EDIT-9992I.S. Jones is a queer American Nigerian poet and music journalist. She is a Graduate Fellow with The Watering Hole and holds fellowships from Callaloo, BOAAT Writer’s Retreat, and Brooklyn Poets. Her works have appeared or are forthcoming in Guernica, Washington Square Review, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Hobart Pulp, The Rumpus, The Offing, Shade Literary Arts, Blood Orange Review and elsewhere. Her work was chosen by Khadijah Queen as a finalist for the 2020 Sublingua Prize for Poetry. She is an MFA candidate in Poetry at UW–Madison as well as the Inaugural 2019­­–2020 Kemper K. Knapp University Fellowship recipient. Her chapbook Spells Of My Name is forthcoming with Newfound in 2021.

KPalmHeadshot2018Kristin Palm is the author of a poetry collection, The Straits, and co-editor of Absent but Present: Voices from the Writer’s Block. Her poetry and essays have also appeared in the anthologies The Racial Imaginary: Writers on Race in the Life of the Mind, To Light a Fire: 20 Years with the InsideOut Literary Arts Project, Kindergarde: Avant-garde Stories, Plays, and Songs for Children and Bay Poetics. As a journalist, she has contributed to numerous publications including The New York Times, Metropolis and the San Francisco Chronicle. She has taught writing in schools and community venues in Detroit and the San Francisco Bay Area. She lives in Detroit, where she is a freelance writer and editor, nonprofit communications director and co-facilitator of the weekly Writer’s Block poetry workshop at Macomb Correctional Facility.

Alison Stine headshot by Ellee AchtenAlison Stine works as a freelance journalist at The New York Times. Her first novel Road Out of Winter, was published in 2020 (MIRA Books/HarperCollins), and is a finalist for the Philip K. Dick Award. She is also the author of several books of poetry, including Ohio Violence (University of North Texas Press). Her work has appeared in The Atlantic, The Paris Review, The Washington Post, and others. Recipient of grants from the NEA, the Ohio Arts Council, NYU Journalism, and National Geographic, she is a former Wallace Stegner Fellow at Stanford University. Her next novel Trashlands will be published by MIRA Books/HarperCollins in October 2021.

About the host:

13166004_10154229341507375_8181859589919330252_nStacy Parker Le Melle is the author of Government Girl: Young and Female in the White House (HarperCollins/Ecco), was the lead contributor to Voices from the Storm: The People of New Orleans on Hurricane Katrina and Its Aftermath (McSweeney’s), and chronicles stories for The Katrina Experience: An Oral History Project. She is a 2020 NYSCA/NYFA Artist Fellow for Nonfiction Literature. Her recent narrative nonfiction has been published in Callaloo, Apogee Journal, The Atlas Review, Cura, Kweli Journal, Nat. Brut, The Nervous Breakdown, The Offing, Phoebe, Silk Road and The Florida Review where the essay was a finalist for the 2014 Editors’ Prize for nonfiction. Originally from Detroit, Le Melle lives in Harlem where she curates the First Person Plural Reading Series. Follow her on Twitter at @stacylemelle.