Random Notes to My Son Analysis

I have learned various lessons from the poem “Random Notes to My Son” by Keorapetse Kgositsile but I did not understand most of the poem at first glance. Prior to reading the poem I had very little background knowledge about the poet Kgositsile. When I first read the poem, it came off as very complicated and complex, only some things made sense. I took a very ignorant and close minded approach to the poem only due to the fact that I chose this poet because he is the father of a rapper named Earl Sweatshirt. I had many questions on what certain phrases or things meant, and after hard research and studying I found my answers. But I’m glad I took the time to study Kgositsile and the poem because not only was I educated on his struggles, but I was given advice I can use for the rest of my life. I may not have the same experiences or struggles as him, but I can use his advice in my life. The poem does not have one meaning like most poems do, but several different lessons to absorb.

As soon as I started reading the poem I did not understand very much of it. “Beware, my son, words that carry the loudnesses of blind desire also carry the slime of illusion.” Kgositsile is talking to his son Earl, in which he is talking about his sons early productions in rap which had dark lyrics but with no dark intent in “real life”. He is telling his son that words are very powerful tools but if used incorrectly only serve as an illusion to distract people from the truth. His son did take notice of this and changed his style in his latest LP, but it great advice to anybody. “Dripping like pus from the slave's battered back” was an extremely hard simile for me to analyze. Before, I thought it was a reference to slavery or apartheid in South Africa. His simile means that illusions are also beat into us from our culture, just like a slave is beaten by its master, shaping ourselves into people that we aren’t.

In the second verse Kgositsile give a horrible image through smart and foul word play: “But here now our tongue dries into maggots as we continue our slimy death and grin.” Kgositsile is saying that people today are losing the ability to speak about anything meaningful, like the messages he writes through his poetry. The poem continues, “Except today it is fashionable to scream of pride and beauty.” Kgositsile continues his message into saying that people today only talk to about superficial topics such as wealth, jewelry, and appearance instead of deeper human issues. There is a large amount of dramatic advice given to Earl and readers of the poem.

Kgositsile left his son at the early age of six, to which he writes about his son’s feelings. “Confusion in me and around me confusion.” Earl had a hard life growing up without a dad only to rely on his Mom, who was a single parent. Kgositsile may not be directly approaching the song “Chum” Earl composed and sung, but he does understand his son’s confusion and struggles. Earl talks about his struggles with his dad through his rapping, “It’s probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless And I just used to say I hate him in dishonest jest When honestly I miss this nigga, like when I was six And every time I got the chance to say it I would swallow it.” (Chum, Earl Sweatshirt). Kgositsile was never there for Earl as a kid, so he reaches out to him through is poetry.

“Today we move, we move?” Was the last line of the poem. I did not understand it the first couple times I read it. The repetition of the words “we move” imparts a call to action, and away from passivity. Kgositsile has given great advice and has helped me take a step back from the world and reevaluate myself. I’m going to turn this knowledge into life advice, and think before I do things or say things. I have not only learned a lot from this project, but I have learned so much from this class, including writing and open mindedness. 

Coach AP interview

The day before the interview, James and I rushed to Coach Paddocks classroom to speak to him about our interviews. As we approached the classroom we did not hear his booming, calm voice. Instead we found his student assistant doing assistant activities. We questioned the student assistant asking where Coach Paddock is, having her only reply in murmurs. In the meantime we messed around and cracked jokes. I wrote on the white board Coach Paddocks favorite numbers, "420 ÷69=Dong". James was amazed by my cunning math skills and my Einstein sized brain. The student assistant left early, and not soon after, you could hear a faint noise of someone walking in flip flops outside the hall. Coach AP walked in apologizing for the wait, and he quickly noticed what I wrote on the board, only to laugh knowing it was me. I scheduled my interview with him for Friday, and made my way back to my favorite class Advanced World lit. & comp. taught by my favorite teacher Mrs.Cawlfield.    

The day of the interview I walked into Coaches classroom, only to be greeted with a warm smile from Coach and asking how I was. I aid for Coach 4^th period, so I patiently waited in my seat preparing for the interview until he was done teaching. As I keep restudying my poem, over and over again, I finally come up with a few questions. As soon as Coach finishes his lecture he approached me saying “So should we do this interview in the hall, or where would you like too?” To which I replied “The hall will work, its fine.” I followed Coaches footsteps to outside in the hall, handing him my computer and got ready to record the interview. “I got you coach here we go.” I pressed the record button and thought to myself what questions should I ask after he’s done analyzing the poem. Once he finishes he hands me back my laptop only to say “wow.” His face was not only surprised but was amazed by the poets writing. I put my interviewer face on and ask my first question of the session, “What is your opinion on the poem?” Coach Paddock pauses and thinks for a moment. “ I think there is some amazing advice in there, in terms of what the father is saying to his son about blind desire can lead to ultimate downfalls, uh because it will blind you from the truth and from the correct path that you would want.”

I thought hard to summon a new question to my mind, but thankfully beforehand I wrote some questions on a separate document. “In any part of the poem can you find relatable or identifying with yourself?” He shot a look to the ceiling to find inspiration in himself to answer the question, “Um, sometimes yes because as a coach your ultimate goal, you know in a competitive world is try to win the championship, but were also in the business of molding young people into showing them the right way to act upon things and act. So you’re constantly tested on ethical decisions on how you treat people and the way you approach your job, unbridled ambitions can be dangerous at times.” I managed to comprehend his words and thought about what he said, but swiftly changed my mind to another question to ask him. I paused for a moment as a couple walked in the hall laughing and talking so they did not interrupt out interview. Coach and I made eye contact again and we continued the setting we had.

“What do you notice most about the poem?” I inquired. Coach Paddock again then paused and glanced away down the vacant hallway and faced my eyes again. “I think that the language was pretty striking, you know when it makes references to slaves and their battered backs, the pus, I mean there is some very descriptive vocabulary that brings some tragic images to mind as you read. So it really kind of connects in terms of significance in the words the poet was using.” I desperately tried to think of more questions to ask him, for only I had three written down, and thought I could think of more on the spot. I finally asked one of my last questions. “Is there anything you find confusing in the poem?” Instead of pausing he answered fairly quickly, spewing words out of his mouth like Busta Rhymes would in any of his verses. “The only thing I’m not sure of is the author African American or not because the talk of black power and things like that. I do not know if that is negative that he is approaching to his son or a positive. I’m not really sure of whom the author is or if there is an attentive audience of this poem other than his son.”  The mood of the interview shifted to us both having the feeling it was over. I concluded our talk with one last thought to ask, due to the fact I did not come fully prepared with a full list of questions. I blurted out my dull-witted amateur question, “ So uhh is that the only part you’re confused about?” to which Coach replied “Yeah, I think so.”

“Alright!” I exclaimed in my inside hall appropriate voice. Coach then said, “Was that deep enough for ya’? You sure you don’t need more? This interview was only about five minutes!” He smiled brightly eagerly waiting my response, “Nah coach that’s it, thanks a lot!” We walked back into the somewhat mellow hard working math classroom, he patted me softly on my back. “Anytime ya need help buddy you can come to me!” I sat down in my seat to recap and think about the interview. I put in my music and let my mind wander. Not only was I glad to learn more about Coach Paddocks opinion, it helped me know him better as a person. Coach is not only an authoritative figure I can look up to, he is a deep passionate man I can learn from as a genuine human being. The only thing I regret not doing is asking better questions. 

Keorapetse Kgositsile

Keorapetse Kgositsile was born September 19th. 1938 in Johannesburg, South Africa. Between the 1960's and 1970's he played an influential role in the African National Congress and made extensive progress in African-American literature. Kgositsile was exiled to the US (reasons unknown) between the years of 1962-1970, and he reached his peak of his literary career. During his time in the US he married twice both ending in divorce and each wife having one separate child. Thebe Kgositsile later became a rapper inspired by his friends in LA and inspired by his father's (Keorapetse) poems, even though Keorapetse left his children at a their young age. Later in his life he received well deserved awards for his deep writings about missing his son and the unjust system of apartheid.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6RXqJwOvMM

poem

RANDOM NOTES TO MY SON

Beware, my son, words
that carry the loudnesses
of blind desire also carry
the slime of illusion
dripping like pus from the slave's battered back
e.g. they speak of black power whose eyes
will not threaten the quick whitening of their own intent
what days will you inherit?
what shadows inhabit your silences?

I have aspired to expression, all these years,
elegant past the most eloquent word. But here now
our tongue dries into maggots as we continue our slimy
death and grin. Except today it is fashionable to scream
of pride and beauty as though it were not known that
'slaves and dead people have no beauty'

Confusion
in me and around me
confusion. This pain was
not from the past. This pain was
not because we had failed
to understand:
this land is mine
confusion and borrowed fears
it was. We stood like shrubs
shrivelled on this piece of earth
the ground parched and cracked
through the cracks my cry:

And what shapes
in assent and ascent
must people the eye of newborn
determined desire know
no frightened tear ever rolls on
to the elegance of fire. I have
fallen with all the names I am
but the newborn eye, old as
childbirth, must touch the day
that, speaking my language, will
say, today we move, we move ?