Aurielle Marie is a Black and Queer poet, essayist, and cultural strategist surviving state violence. They are the author of Gumbo Ya Ya
and the winner of the 2020 Cave Canem poetry prize. She is a movement journalism fellow with Scalawag Magazine
, a former Lambda Literary Writer in Residence, and has received invitations to fellowships from Tin House, VONA, The Watering Hole and Kopkind. Their work has been featured in American Poetry Review
, the Poem-a-Day series, The Slowdown with Ada Limon, Teen Vogue
, and The Guardian
. A genderqueer storyteller and community organizer, Aurielle writes about sex, bodies, systems, and The South from a Black Feminist lens. She is the 2022 winner of the Lambda Literary Award in Bisexual Poetry, and the 2022 Georgia Author of the Year for Poetry.
FOLLOW Aurielle @YesAurielle
Solidarity is profoundly simple at its core: should we ever find that our comfort is at the expense of someone else’s life, it becomes our responsibility to divorce from such comforts.
I haven’t always had language for the practice, but I have often, in my growth as a writer, tried to choreograph a new thing out of a poem onto the page.
I often compare gender to an occupation, because in many ways, it is such labor.
This month, consider what resources you find yourself in abundance of if you are not Black. And if you are, which resources this month are you reclaiming?
Here’s the truth: This year, you’ve been through a lot.
I believe we each have a fight, specific and distinct to us. I do not believe that toil begins or ends at the ballot box.
I invite you to orient yourself toward justice, to move as one who believes that your freedom is inextricably linked to mine, and act beyond your comfort or convenience.