BND 2.2 Exclusive: Staceyann Chin — “Think of Your Poems as a Soundtrack for Your Life”

Staceyann Chin discusses her career, highlighting her upbringing in Jamaica, experiences of voicelessness, and observing domestic violence, which influenced her work's focus on feminism and oppression. They detail their global performances and the invitation to America, emphasising the importance of global citizenship and the impact of Kamala Harris' vice-presidential run. 'Kindred on the Rock' is introduced as a project for global connections. Chin contrasts her activism and creative process in New York with her focus on community needs in Jamaica, underscoring the transformative power of storytelling.

Staceyann Chin, a poet, actor, and performing artist, has always been a force to be reckoned with. Her journey from a voiceless child in Jamaica to an acclaimed voice on Broadway and beyond is a testament to the power of resilience and the enduring need to speak one's truth. With a career that spans poetry collections, memoirs, one-woman shows, and appearances on global platforms like the Oprah Winfrey Show and 60 Minutes, Chin's work is a lifeline for those who have been silenced.

Born in Jamaica, Chin grew up navigating a life marked by abandonment and poverty. "Being voiceless as a kid really drove home the importance of having voice in my life," she reflects. Chin’s childhood was anything but easy - her mother left her, and she was often treated as an "extra relative," shuffled between homes where she was both a burden and an afterthought. These early experiences shaped her understanding of the world and fuelled her desire to ensure that her voice - and the voices of others - would never go unheard.

Chin’s grandmother played a crucial role in her upbringing, a figure of strength who taught her the meaning of survival. “For much of my childhood, I was alone at the mercy of people who, in one way showed some kindness to have me and in one way were frustrated and therefore pushed to be violent or unkind or cruel to me because I was in their house using resources they didn't have,” Chin recalls.

Staceyann Chin's recollections of her childhood in Jamaica offer a powerful glimpse into the resilience and resourcefulness that have shaped her life and work. She remembers, as a small child, accompanying her grandmother to the wharf where bananas were sold. The scene she paints is both specific and universal, a snapshot of survival in the face of economic hardship.

"I remember going down to the wharf where they sold bananas," Chin recalls, describing how the big companies would inspect the bunches of bananas, tearing off the ones that were bruised or deemed not good enough. These rejected bananas, discarded and left on the ground, represented waste to the companies but opportunity to Chin and her grandmother. "We would pick those bananas up," she says, "and take them home to make them go ripe, and then we would eat them." I

n her recollection, Chin describes how the large banana companies would inspect the bunches, rejecting any fruit that was bruised or imperfect. "But the big companies don't want bruised bananas," she explains, recalling how these damaged bananas were torn from the bunches and discarded on the ground. Just as the famous Harry Belafonte song, Banana Boat (Day-O) speaks to the tallying and accounting of bananas: "Come, mister tally man, tally me banana." This line is evocative of the Caribbean’s banana trade, and provides a backdrop to Chin's own experiences as a child accompanying her grandmother to the wharf.

What the companies saw as waste became a vital resource for Chin and her grandmother. "I remember going with my grandmother to pick up the ones on the floor that were still good bananas," she recalls. These bruised, unpaid-for bananas held value for Chin's family. Her grandmother would take them home, let them ripen, and use them to feed the family. This simple act of gathering discarded food was not just a necessity; it was a crucial part of their survival.

"My grandmother did everything she needed to do to survive," Chin reflects, highlighting the resourcefulness and determination her grandmother exemplified. Just as the song captures the labour and rhythm of the banana trade, Chin's story captures the deeper struggle of finding sustenance in what others deem worthless.

These early experiences shaped Chin’s understanding of survival and resilience. The image of her grandmother picking up bruised bananas becomes a powerful metaphor for navigating a world that often discards those who do not fit its standards. The act of repurposing these bananas reflects a broader theme in Chin’s work: finding value and dignity where others see none.

Her grandmother’s resourcefulness, like collecting discarded bananas to make ends meet, instilled in Chin a relentless drive to persevere. "I do have a sense of you do what you have to do to survive. I can't imagine a world where I would just lie down and give up." This survival instinct has manifested in Chin’s work, where themes of oppression, abandonment, and resilience are ever-present.

"I think maybe all my work is about all oppression being connected," she asserts. This belief is so deeply ingrained in her that hundreds of people worldwide have tattooed the phrase “all oppression is connected” on their bodies, including Chin herself. She views oppression as a cycle where "hurt people hurt people," a cycle that she is determined to break through her art.

Chin's work is not just about personal survival but also about collective healing. She emphasises the importance of acknowledging and articulating pain as a way to share the burden and foster a supportive community.

"I believe in unpacking them, acknowledging them to yourself, articulating them in a way that it becomes a shared burden," she says. Her feminism is rooted in this idea of shared experience and collective empowerment, particularly for those who have been systematically silenced by patriarchal structures.

Staceyann Chin’s reflections on the current political climate in the United States, particularly regarding Vice President Kamala Harris, powerfully illustrate how deeply personal and political narratives are woven into her work. For Chin, Harris is more than just a political figure; she is a mirror reflecting Chin’s own life experiences as a Jamaican, Asian, and Black woman navigating a world that often seeks to undermine their existence.

"Kamala Harris, who is Jamaican and Asian and Black, I see so much of her reflected in me," Chin shares. This connection is not merely superficial but rooted in shared experiences of racial and gendered discrimination. As Harris faces racist attacks and personal undermining from figures like Donald Trump, Chin feels a deep resonance with these experiences.

She understands that the political power behind such undermining is not just an attack on Harris as an individual, but a broader assault rooted in "that white male patriarchal undermining of a Black woman." This is a familiar narrative for Chin, who knows too well the challenges of navigating a world that often seeks to devalue Black women, especially those who weren’t "born in wealth.”

Chin is struck by the irony and tragedy that, even with all the power and protection that comes with being Vice President, Harris still confronts questions about her identity—"Is she Black or is she Indian?"—and endures derogatory labels like "nasty" and "dumb." These experiences are all too familiar to Chin, who recognises that such insults are not just random slights but are deeply rooted in a long history of racial and gender bias. "Every woman has probably heard that somewhere, every Black person, every person of colour, everybody who everyone else thought didn’t have any right to be here."

In Harris' journey, Chin sees a broader commentary on the societal dynamics that shape the lives of marginalised people. No matter how high one rises, the same oppressive forces that question their legitimacy and worth remain pervasive. This harsh reality underscores much of Chin's activism and art, where she continuously fights to amplify the voices of those who, like Harris and herself, navigate a world eager to dismiss and diminish them.

Through her work, Staceyann Chin not only highlights the pervasive struggles against racism, sexism, and other forms of oppression but also reclaims power by giving voice to these shared experiences. Her reflections on Kamala Harris serve as a potent reminder that the battle against these societal afflictions is far from over and that even those in the highest positions are not immune to their impact. It is this intertwining of the personal and political that imbues Chin’s work with such urgency and relevance, solidifying her role as a crucial voice in the ongoing fight for equality and justice.

Chin poignantly observes that "bigotry transcends class, race, gender—everything that you can talk about." This insight is born from her own life experiences as a survivor of violence, a woman from a small country like Jamaica, a girl who grew up without parents, and someone who was bullied as a child. These personal battles have given Chin a profound understanding of what is at stake when she steps up to speak or write.

"I understand the stakes," Chin asserts, emphasising the importance of ensuring that her honesty and integrity are at the forefront of her performances and her writing. For her, it is essential that "people in the audience can't help but be moved by it and perhaps be moved to act on the subject that you raise in your poem." This connection between the personal and the political in her work is not just a method of expression; it is a call to action, a challenge to the status quo, and an invitation for others to engage in the struggle for justice.

By sharing her story and amplifying the stories of others, Chin transforms her pain and experiences into powerful tools for change. Her work is not just a reflection of her own journey but a beacon for those who face similar struggles. In doing so, she ensures that the voices of the marginalised are heard, their stories are told, and their fights for dignity and respect are acknowledged.

Chin’s commitment to this cause makes her a vital figure in the broader movement for social justice, reminding us all that the personal is indeed political, and that the fight against oppression requires both courage and conviction.

Chin’s latest endeavour, Kindred on the Rock, a 70-acre farm in Jamaica, reflects her belief in global citizenship and the importance of reconnecting with the earth and each other. This intentional community aims to bring together people from diverse backgrounds to engage in deep, meaningful conversations about the world we live in and the world we want to create.

“We are all on the same rock, and if we want to be, we can be kindred. We can be connected. We can be family if we only choose it,” Chin says passionately.

"I do have a sense of you do what you have to do to survive. I can't imagine a world where I would just lie down and give up."

Through her poetry, performances, and activism, Staceyann Chin continues to roar against the silence that once defined her childhood. Her life’s work is a testament to the power of voice, the necessity of connection, and the possibility of creating a kinder, more just world for all. In her words,

"Every time a woman finds her voice, I become full of my own potential in the world." Chin’s journey from the voiceless child to the powerful performer is not just a personal triumph; it is an invitation for all of us to find our voices and use them to shape a better future.

Staceyann Chin’s life in New York is a vivid testament to the themes and struggles captured in her poetry. Her existence in the city is a "public monument" to the words she writes, where every verse is born out of the intense and urgent realities of life in the "belly of the beast."

As a poet and activist, Chin finds herself deeply entrenched in the political and social issues that reverberate through the city and beyond. Whether she is on stage at a protest or performing for thousands in Prospect Park, Chin’s voice remains a powerful force for change. "I am deeply stimulated and entrenched in the global discussion about human rights, power, freedom of speech, and the telling of stories," she says, describing the energy of New York as a pulsing force that fuels her activism.

This engagement is not just limited to local issues, Chin travels the world, screening documentaries, attending protests, and continually adding her voice to the global conversation on justice and equality.

Yet, when Chin returns to Jamaica, she steps into a different but equally important reality. In the small rural community where her project 'Kindred on the Rock' is located, the issues she faces are far more intimate and localised. Here, she grapples with getting clean water to farmers, providing sanitary products to girls who miss school due to lack of resources, and addressing the needs of a community disconnected from the larger, more visible struggles of the world.

"The problems seem micro in Point Hill at Kindred in Saint Catherine," she explains, highlighting the contrast between the vast, macro-scale activism in New York and the deeply personal, grassroots work in Jamaica.

But for Chin, these realities are interconnected. The stories of a young girl quietly missing school in Jamaica because she can't afford sanitary pads, and a black woman in America shot in her own home by the police, are part of the same narrative - a narrative about the value of black lives, of women's lives, and of those who are often deemed invisible or unimportant.

"It could have been me or you," Chin reflects, emphasising the universality of these struggles, regardless of geographic or racial differences.

Staceyann Chin's creative process is deeply rooted in a sense of interconnectedness—a concept she emphasises not only in her work but also in how she approaches the act of writing itself. Despite the frenetic pace of life in New York, Chin views writing as a vital and constant practice, something she believes should be embraced fully by aspiring writers.

"Just write," she urges, stressing the importance of writing regardless of whether the work is published or performed. "It doesn’t matter if you’re gonna get it published. It does not matter if you have a microphone to say it on. Write. Make sure you’re writing all the time."

Chin’s advice is not just about the act of writing, but about the rhythm of life and creativity. She encourages writers to immerse themselves in the process—writing through every experience, whether joyful or painful, successful, or disappointing.

"Just keep writing, keep living, keep writing, keep editing, keep living," she insists. For Chin, the practice of writing is inseparable from the practice of living. Each informs and enriches the other, creating a cycle of expression and reflection that fuels artistic growth. Chin is particularly passionate about the role of editing in the writing process. She believes that continuous editing is crucial, not just for improving individual works, but for developing as a writer.

"When you have writer's block, write the bad poem," she advises. "When you're in love, write. When you have a broken heart, write." For Chin, every emotion, every experience is an opportunity to create. The key is to keep writing, to keep recording, and to keep refining.

Over time, she believes, this relentless commitment to writing will yield a body of work that spans the full spectrum of human experience. "One day you look up and you're like, 'Oh my God, I have a poem on everything.'" This accumulation of work, she argues, makes it easier to edit and improve because the writer is no longer attached to a single piece.

"If you write enough poems, you won’t feel so precious about every word," she explains, highlighting the freedom that comes with having a large body of work to draw from and revise. For Chin, this process is not just about personal growth but also about contributing to a more diverse and inclusive literary canon. "Do your part to make the canon more diverse than what it's been," she challenges writers. By constantly writing, living, and editing, writers can ensure that their unique voices and perspectives are heard, enriching the broader tapestry of literature.

Chin’s approach to writing is a call to action, a reminder that the most important thing is to keep going, to keep creating, and to keep pushing the boundaries of what literature can be. It is about persistence, passion, and the belief that every voice has the power to contribute to the ongoing conversation of humanity. It is a way to process life, to document the highs and lows, the personal and political, the mundane and the monumental. Her advice to young writers is to live fully and to let that living fuel their work.

"Think of your poems as a soundtrack for your life," she suggests, encouraging a relentless pursuit of experiences and an equally relentless commitment to capturing those experiences in writing.

But Chin also stresses the importance of editing, of returning to one's work and refining it, not out of a sense of perfectionism but out of a desire to create something that truly resonates. "If you write enough poems, you won’t feel so precious about every word, the continuous editing of them is only gonna make them better." This, she believes, is how a writer contributes to a more diverse and inclusive literary canon.

Through her activism, her writing, and her life split between New York and Jamaica, Staceyann Chin embodies the power of storytelling to bridge divides, to connect disparate struggles, and to inspire action. Her work is a call to live fully, to write fearlessly, and to fight unceasingly for a more just and equitable world.