In the Realm of Our Lorde: Eros and the Poet Philosopher

Abstract

Feminist Studies 40, no. 1. © 2014 by Feminist Studies, Inc. 169 Lyndon K. Gill In the Realm of Our Lorde: Eros and the Poet Philosopher I have an embarrassing confession. I was not able to attend Hunter College’s momentous celebration of Audre Lorde’s life and work, held in anticipation of the twentieth anniversary of her shaking free of flesh.1 But that is not my confession. Undoubtedly, like many of you who could not be present physically for the séance royale that was at once a commemoration and an invocation of the original “sister outsider,” I committed nonetheless to show up virtually. That I could commit to showing up at all was because the technology-savvy organizing committee had generously decided—perhaps inspired by Lorde’s distaste for exclusions —to offer the conference through a livestream broadcast.2 We are coming closer to the confession now. I readied myself well in advance of the day to experience what I could of the fête through a computer screen. Yet by the morning of the gathering, not only had it completely slipped my mind, but other mundane obligations—a faculty meeting, a 1. On October 12, 2012, the Women and Gender Studies Program at Hunter College—one of the constituent institutions of the City University of New York—hosted a celebratory one-day symposium on the life and work of Audre Lorde, followed by special screenings of films about the warrior poet. The cluster of articles on Audre Lorde in this issue of Feminist Studies commemorates that gathering. 2. See the livestream broadcast, “A Celebration of Audre Lorde,” October 12, 2012, from the Roosevelt House Public Policy Institute at Hunter College, http://new.livestream.com/roosevelthouse/audrelorde. 7 Celebrating Audre Lorde’s Legacy 8 170 Lyndon K. Gill promised tea with a favored student—conspired to fill in the space I had cleared to bring the celebration of Lorde to one small corner of Texas.3 For any black, queer, Caribbean American intellectual—let alone one as committed as I am to Lorde’s vision for our collective future regardless of how we look, where we live, or who we fuck—it is painfully embarrassing to admit that I nearly lost the chance to honor Audre on a haphazard Friday morning. But in these moments when I feel most lost, my mother has a way of reorienting me, of finding me, and walking me home. I am sure among black mothers this is quite unremarkable, but the steady hand outstretched still feels just a touch miraculous. And here again, a generosity extended via technology—a generosity of spirit that I hope is my inheritance—intervened to cure my absent-minded distraction: my mother sent me a text message. Having committed herself to showing up for the symposium despite whatever might be left undone at work, my mother—Donna Veronica Gill, a labor activist who has worked for Hunter College as an administrator for as long as I can remember—recognized that there was more important work to do that day. In her text to me, she very unceremoniously asked if by chance I was watching the livestream at that moment (perhaps presuming I had stepped away from the computer, but hardly imaging I might have forgotten the day’s events entirely) because there was a professor from the University of Pennsylvania speaking who I had to hear. Distraught at my forgetfulness, but curious about this professor who had brought me to my mummy’s mind so pointedly, I quickly tuned in to the livestream broadcast and could not have been happier to see that, although she had gotten the details confused (the speaking professor was from Temple University, not the University of Pennsylvania), my mother was, as per usual, quite right. Aishah Shahidah Simmons, newly minted adjunct professor of women’s and LGBT studies at Temple University, was in the middle of delivering a presentation that one might best describe as an incantation (the text of her talk follows this article). Simmons called Lorde into that room 3. This would have been a kind of virtual return to Texas for Lorde, who— according to a photograph of her...