The Not-So-Dead Poets Society: A New Generation Carries on the Legacy of New York City's Poetry Scene
*Article from Lexington Line Spring/Summer 2024 Issue, pages 32-34
Check out the full issue here
When was the last time you wrote a poem? How about the last time you read a collection of poetry or attended a reading?
Poetry is considered the world’s longest standing form of literature, and yet, there have been endless claims of the art form dying as society has progressed. With the rise of technology and social media, the way in which the population consumes media has vastly shifted, favoring entertainment over substance.
Even today, a majority of what our society consumes is heavily reliant on quick hits of dopamine and tapping into the latest internet trend. With everyone so focused on finding the next best thing, it’s natural for more traditional forms of media to get pushed to the back burner. However, tucked in between New York City’s bustling streets and flashing lights holds a lively community of young poets who seek to share their voices.
Hunter Hodkinson
“I can no longer separate writing
meant to be read versus writing
meant to be kept forever in a drawer,
too personal and sensitive to ever see
the light of day.”
“I started writing for a boy in Junior High, Taylor Jackson—like Percy Jackson but somehow gayer,” says Hunter Hodkinson, a 22-year-old poet recalling their first introduction to writing and poetry. “He was showing off his most recent Wattpad story, and I thought that if I wrote my own Wattpad story, one better than his, that maybe he would love me back.”
From a small rural town in Northeast Ohio, Hodkinson found themselves drawn to writing and quickly gained a passion for poetry thanks to a homoerotic pre-teen crush. As they began to explore the literary form and find their voice, Hodkinson found that their surroundings limited them creatively.
“Where I'm from, most people never move out of the country and that’s encouraged,” they explain. “There were virtually no poetry events for a fifty-mile radius, so it was hard to find any community at all.”
These limitations sparked fantasies of moving to a place made by and for artists: New York City. Though the prospect of moving seemed far out of moving seemed far out of reach, they never gave up hope and sought to make that dream a reality.
“I knew two things as high school was coming to a close,” they say. “One, I wanted to be a writer, and two, I wanted change—the complete and utter opposite of dying strip malls and cornfields.”
With only $500 in savings, they scoured roommate forums, eventually stumbling upon a listing by an “eccentric Austrian artist.” Giving him every last penny they saved, they managed to do what most said they couldn’t and set off for the Big City.
While Hodkinson finally made it to New York, it took them nearly four years to actually enter the city’s poetry scene.
“Before finding community, I was writing for me and for me alone. I had rejected academia completely,” they explain.
Still searching for that sense of community they longed for, Hodkinson took a chance and applied to intern at Brooklyn Poets. After being accepted, the young poet was whisked away into one of New York’s most interconnected poetry associations.
Starting as an intern and working their way up to Events Assistant, Hodkinson quickly caught their bearings and gained footing within the space. While they continued to engage with the lively in-person scene, they noted how social media has changed the way in which the community interacts with one another.
“I kinda hate it, but Instagram is a vital tool to stay relevant in the community. Unless you’re one of the old timers whose presence pre-dates the 2000s, it’s really the only way to stay in the loop,” they admit. “The poetry community lives above us in the clouds and in our phones now. I post a video of me reading every three months to show everyone I’m still active and involved.”
Though they say the journey ahead is long—with garnering book deals and taking their work mainstream—Hodkinson expresses how connecting with other poets and having their voice heard has allowed them to step into the person they’ve wished to become.
“The poetry community is alive and has given me a purpose, an audience, and a set of eyes that see the world in an unparalleled way,” they say.
Jada Gordon
“We are Poets
We are the farmers of words
The lyrical painters of landscapes Relishing in frontiers they left behind.
We make the most mistakes.”
"I've been writing since the age of eight, says 28-year-old poet and Native New Yorker Jada Gordon. "I didn't fit into the world I existed in and used writing as an outlet. It was kind of punk to me. I felt a connection to that energy."
Growing up in a small neighborhood in the South Bronx, Gordon developed a deep passion for writing that led her to pursue an English Literature degree at Borough of Manhattan Community College (BMCC). There, she joined the school's Writer's Guild, getting her first taste of the literary world—and found mentorship with one of her professors.
"My mentor and professor, Jason Schneiderman, was already a co-host at the KGB Bar Monday Poetry Series when I first started working with him," she explains.
"When I expressed a desire to immerse myself in the poetry scene, he asked me if I was interested in promoting the reading series."
First joining the team as a social media intern in 2018, she was able to develop her identity as a poet within the bar's crimson walls, eventually going on to co-host and co-curate the series in 2020.
Having been immersed in the space for over five years, Gordon found that, in her journey, a huge part of finding your identity as a poet in the city comes from community.
“Writing is a very solitary practice, so when you get to read with folks in person, it’s an energy everyone should experience,” she explains. “The poetry scene, like many facets of life, is adapting to a changing world. Whether it’s online or in person, the spaces are out there, you just have to look. Or create it for yourself.”
This adaptability—and particularly the emergence of social media—is one that Gordon believes can actually help to evolve the poetry space, and bring it into the mainstream through accessibility and exposure.
“A lot of people may not have access to writing communities where they can share their work,” she explains. “There are so many voices that deserve to be heard and might’ve been shut out due to gatekeeping, racism, sexism, etc. and social media breaks down those walls so beautifully.”
She urges any individuals who may feel like poetry is a dying art to go out and experience what it means to be in the space.
“The poetry scene is not dying. The places where we share our work pubically haven’t dwindled, but more so changed. We can share work on social media which can be powerful and helpful. However, having a space to perform and let those words sit with an audience in real-time is a different beast that everyone should experience at one point in their life,” she says.
Jason Schneiderman
“Don’t cry, Young Writer, This story
makes us love you more than ever.”
"NYC has a million different poetry microclimates. You find the place where you feel most at home," says Jason Schneiderman, an American poet and professor at Borough of Manhattan Community College.
Jason Schneiderman has spent the last 25 immersed in the New York poetry scene, having taken part in seemingly every aspect of the community. First entering the space during his time at NYU, he honed his craft and eventually went on to publish five poetry books and founding various poetry series throughout the city.
Having been part of the community for over two decades, he's had the opportunity to watch as the age of social media slowly seeped into the community and effectively changed the landscape.
"It's made poets more accessible. Conferences like Bread Loaf or Sewanee used to be key to developing a network and community of writers, but now you can do it through social media as well," he says. "I wouldn't be on social media at all if it weren't the way that people know about my readings and publications."
When he wasn't reading and writing, Schneiderman spent his time teaching young writers looking to make their own splash on the scene.
"I think the kids are fine when it comes to poetry," he says. "I don't have the stamina for open mics anymore, but there are a ton of well-attended open mics, and the MFA programs are still full of aspiring poets who are coordinating readings and getting themselves out there.”
Though Schneiderman has no worries for the future of his beloved community, he has some advice for poets looking to enter the NYC scene.
"Keep showing up and you'll figure it out. Go to the places where you feel at home; write into the spaces where you feel out of step; cultivate friendships with writers-but only if you like them AND you like their poetry," he says.