Transdisciplinary Africana Studies and Africana Poetical Science: A Conversation

My scholarship over the past few decades (Stewart, 1992, 2006, 2008, 2010, 2014, 2024) has advanced a “transdisciplinary” conceptualization of Africana Studies that challenges the usefulness of traditional discipline-based research. The criteria I use to evaluate cultural works provide a structured approach for integrating artistic expressions with scholarly research in ways that have the potential to generate a deeper understanding of Black experiences and struggles.

In the same vein, yet in terms of art and creativity, my scholarship, A²: A Scholarly Poetical Science Discourse (Sekai, 2024), introduces an original methodology that combines poetic analysis with political science to interrogate and challenge systemic oppression. My goal is to extend the boundaries of traditional social science, offering a novel lens through which to explore the complexities of Black life. PSD has been used and implemented in analyzing real-world political or cultural phenomena in multiple works that have provided historical context. Alice Walker, in her poem “Talking to Hamas,” for example, writes:

Our Natalya who writes poems to the world and emails to me

As the bombs fall around her sheltering place: “Alice, I cannot breathe. Our hearts have stopped.”

I sit, and wring my hands,

At last old enough and sad enough,

And pathetic enough in my impotence

To do this (Hill, 2025, p. 96)

Poetical science is manifested as a witness to the horrors of history and its triumphs. On the question of history, James Baldwin stated, “If you don’t know what happened behind you, you’ve no idea of what is happening around you” (quoted in Terkel, 1989, p. 21).

The power of research and scholarship is to have a conversation. As scholars and artists, we welcome critical analysis of our work, so we grow and build from it. Toni Morrison, in this regard, “discusses literature with critics/scholars—other nuances and subject matter project themselves. While she demands that a critical audience be established that meets the literature on its own terms—out of the context from which the literature is created rather than through theories forced upon it, especially theories cultivated to address the artistic need and interest of male Euro-centrist art—she thinks that it was used to negate the ability of art to reflect other ontologies, to be political, and to possess aesthetic qualities, thereby trivializing the fiction” (Taylor-Guthrie, 1984, p. xii). Dare I add poetry?

Our dialogue not only highlights the potential for a profound synthesis between Africana Studies and poetical science discourse (PSD) but also underscores the importance of breaking down academic silos. By merging my criteria for assessing cultural production with your innovative PSD framework, this conversation explores how artistic and scientific methodologies can collaborate to generate socially engaged knowledge. This integration intends to advance Black intellectual thought by blending critical scholarship with creative expression, enriching both fields.

This pathbreaking conversation is indeed reminiscent of the iconic and revolutionary James Baldwin (1961, 1963), whose incisive dialogues with scholars and artists offer critical insights into the interplay of art and politics, adding a significant dimension to this discussion. Our engagement brings a full-circle dynamic to both frameworks, hinging on Baldwin’s reflections and well-known conversations on how various artists’ societal roles align. Baldwin asserted, when discussing the role of the Black artist in the Black liberation fight, “First of all the hardest thing he has to do is to remain an artist. He shouldn’t confuse himself with games he isn’t equipped to play. I, for example, am not an organizer. I’m not a warrior. I’m not a banker; I can’t count. So I have to do what I can do and bear witness to something that has to be there when the battle is over” (quoted in Walker, 1989, p. 129). This perspective resonates with the idea that scholarly and artistic engagement should be intrinsic to the pursuit of truth and justice, as reflected in both of our approaches.

Yes, Baldwin’s belief that art serves as a refuge from oppressive realities (Baldwin, 1961) and as a means to make the world more bearable (Baldwin, 1963) parallels my use of poetry for social critique and liberation. Incorporating Africana Studies and PSD methodologies into graduate-level instruction presents an opportunity to cultivate scholars who are adept at producing and analyzing liberatory cultural research. The pedagogical approach you suggest—emphasizing the development of Sankofa social discourses (Stewart, 2008)—aligns with Baldwin’s (1961, 1963) intellectual rigor, advocating for a curriculum that bridges creative and critical inquiry. This alignment fosters a more holistic and liberatory scholarship capable of inspiring meaningful social change.

Indeed, as we navigate the sociopolitical landscape, which increasingly threatens to roll back progress made during the civil rights and Black Power movements, integrating Africana Studies and PSD becomes even more critical. The collaborative efforts between scholars and progressive cultural workers, echoing Baldwin’s (1961, 1963) belief in the power of intellectual and artistic partnerships, are essential for amplifying liberatory messaging and combating reactionary forces.

This is such a great opportunity to delve into the intricate intersections of our respective frameworks.

Dr. Sekai, I have long argued that Africana Studies must incorporate interdisciplinary approaches, but your A² (Sekai, 2024) framework introduces a fascinating blend of poetry and political science. Can you explain how PSD functions as a transdisciplinary method? For instance, I have argued (Stewart, 1992) that it is possible to identify specific approaches to artistic criticism compatible with the mission and ideology of Africana Studies—my focus on the work of Black creative artists who utilize their craft to promote liberatory political objectives. Of course, this approach is at odds with commentators who reject any expectation that cultural products should overtly incorporate explicitly political or racial content. This issue was central to James Baldwin’s (1955) critique of Richard Wright’s novel, Native Son. Presumably, any infringement on creative expression hampers the exploration of new and innovative subjects in ways that could potentially lead to tainted cultural products.

For example, consider the view articulated by W. E. B. Du Bois in his 1935 essay “A Negro Nation Within a Nation”: “There exists [at that time] a chance for the Negroes to organize a co-operative state within their group. By letting Negro farmers feed Negro artisans, and Negro technicians guide Negro home industries, and Negro thinkers plan this integration of co-operation. At the same time, Negro artists dramatize and beautify the struggle; economic independence can be achieved” (p. 270). Thus, Du Bois charges Black creative artists to use their talents to further the liberatory struggle of people of African descent. Even the concept dubbed the Black aesthetic, first promoted during the Black arts movement (BAM), provides beneficial guidance for Africana Studies researchers. Academic critics and cultural workers generated a framework that established the boundaries of BAM cultural production (i.e., the Black aesthetic). The BAM roughly spanned the period 1964 to 1976 when cultural workers created a “large body of poems, plays, and essays, much of which employed distinctive expressive modes” (Stewart, 2008, p. 189). Defining and refining a Black aesthetic was a significant focus of academic critics such as Addison Gayle and Stephen Henderson, cultural workers such as Larry Neal and Hoyt Fuller, and poets including Amiri Baraka and Carolyn Rodgers.

The “methodology” employed by BAM participants illustrated significant parallels to transformative social science initiatives. Several Black artists altered the traditional use of language, including coining new terms and extensive use of words and phrases from various African languages. Some also made particular use of Black English. The hyperbolic language was often used to launch attacks on racism along with the strategic use of “organic linguistic conventions associated with African American folk and urban lifestyles” (Stewart, 2008, p. 189). Many works embodied the Africana Studies commitment to the importance of history in examining social conditions, for example, in tribute poems celebrating heroic historical figures. In addition, the Africana Studies emphasis on African agency was also reflected in works that celebrated how African Americans had struggled to overcome oppressive conditions. As an example, The Wall of Respect located in Chicago’s Bronzeville neighborhood constituted an homage to Black historical and contemporary figures including Nat Turner, Elijah Muhammad, Malcolm X, Muhammad Ali, Gwendolyn Brooks, W. E. B. Du Bois, Marcus Garvey, Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone, and Harriet Tubman. What are your thoughts on this?

Dr. Stewart, I agree. Many cultural workers who employed a Black aesthetic used approaches that displayed essential similarities to the efforts by Africana Studies specialists to develop interdisciplinary modes of inquiry. In addition, new forms of discourse were introduced, as you noted, “including techniques borrowed from various musical genres, especially jazz” (Stewart, 2008, p. 189). Poetical Science Discourse recognizes the significance of BAM as a direct intersection theory. Much like the critiques lobbied at your framework, PSD, as a new methodology to address political activism, could face some pushback by scholars of Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA), used to analyze social inequalities in language. Much like your theory, which adds much to fill the gap between not just BAM, but the Black Aesthetic Movement, PSD bridges a gap from critiquing language and conversations that perpetuate inequalities, to how poetry itself is a witness to political behaviors, policies, legislative actions, and frameworks that perpetuate the continuation of marginalization of the Black body, while discussing those traumas as evidence.

Several BAM poets who used jazz to frame their poetry chose “free jazz” as the preferred subgenre. These BAM artists generally prioritized the militant dimensions of jazz, reinterpreted the music, and disseminated these interpretations through poetry.

Yes, I wrote about this—how such an approach enabled the BAM to generate “broad social impact and its cultural products were disseminated by a variety of ‘cultural transmitters’ including scholars, writers, painters, editors, and popular culture media” (Stewart, 2008, p. 189).

Absolutely, and analysis of these poetry-based musicological activisms requires new conceptual tools beyond those deployed in traditional musicological inquiries examining jazz and other Black musical genres. Ethnomusicologists whose research aligns with the mission and vision of Africana Studies explore the functions of music within Black cultures and how social forces shaped the content and form of the music. This type of ethnomusicological methodology is suggested by the title of Irene V. Jackson’s (1985) edited volume, More Than Dancing. Portia K. Maultsby and Burnim (2015) at Indiana University have contributed significantly to this mode of inquiry. Maulana Karenga (1993) suggests that the Black aesthetic had two distinct but interrelated meanings: (1) a distinctive mode of aesthetic expression enabling the identification of Black art and (2) criteria for judging Black art in terms of creativity, beauty, and social relevance. Karenga observes that “if one combines these two interrelated definitions, the Black aesthetic can be defined as a distinctive mode of artistic expression and a distinctive standard by which Black art can be identified and judged in terms of its creativity and beauty as well as its social relevance” (p. 388).

Therefore, the crux of PSD lies in how poetry—a cultural production—intersects with political science, which is rooted in the social sciences. Poetry is more than a creative outlet; it is a means of critique and analysis. In A² (Sekai, 2024), I explain that poetry can dissect politics and policies, which are constructed through language, to reveal how these laws and structures perpetuate systems of oppression. My poems are an artistic expression and a scholarly interrogation of power dynamics that create a means of emotional, spiritual, and psychological discourse and have a global impact in their uses and countenance.

Adherence to the Black aesthetic requires that cultural products be judged using criteria that embrace Black people’s distinctive and unique cultural, political, and economic histories. In addition, commitment to Black aesthetics requires displacement of the concepts of beauty, values, and standards associated with white European culture and their replacement by counterparts embedded in the culture and worldviews of people of African descent. Kariamu Welsh-Asante (1994) provides a valuable framework for evaluating the quality of creative production within Africana Studies. In traditional African societies, she argues, “if an artistic product is functional—meaning if it promotes positive, transformative beliefs and practices—then it is valuable and therefore beautiful and good” (Welsh-Asante, 1994, p. 9). Welsh-Asante proposes a tool she calls the Nzuri Model to further assess the value of historical and contemporary Black artistic output along seven evaluative criteria: (1) meaning, (2) ethos, (3) motif, (4) mode, (5) function, (6) method/technique, and (7) form. Beauty or art, in this sense, is not limited to how an object, individual, or group appears but includes how the object, individual, or group contributes to the survival, function, and betterment of Black people and all of humankind.

Your explanation aligns closely with my conceptualization of Africana Studies. I have argued (Stewart, 2008) that transdisciplinary research goes beyond merely blending disciplines—it must generate knowledge rooted in African people’s experiences and cultural frameworks. How do you integrate your Jamaican immigrant identity and African-centered values into your work?

When I think about how you approach social science research within Africana Studies, I find so much synergy with interventions proposed by the Black social science movement (BSSM) of the 1970s, which prefigured aspects of the research strategies that I have advanced. The BSSM advocates for the understanding that, if social science research within the BSSM is undertaken strictly within the parameters established by traditional disciplines, then there is limited opportunity to infuse research designs with culturally relevant theoretical and observational information. The BSSM contributors, like you, took up this challenge and called for creating a “Black social science” (see Alkalimat, 1973; Staples, 1973; Walters, 1973). Among other departures from traditional norms, they proposed using innovative terminology to displace sanitized descriptions and bring oppressive relationships into sharp relief. This transformative linguistic convention was intended, in part, to reinforce political commitments to undertake social science–based research to counter racism and discrimination and improve the life circumstances of people of African descent. McClendon (1974) declared, “The relevance of each body of knowledge to black liberation can be determined only by understanding the substantive content” (p. 18). Although it was clear to early Africana Studies advocates that not all research would be applied, it was anticipated that theorists would provide guidance regarding potential applications. This would require, in the words of M. Jackson (1970), “a close relationship between pure and applied roles of science, with a greater stress on the application of knowledge” (p. 135). Ideally, such research would be undertaken by engaged analysts who have organic ties to the community under study. From this perspective, Harris and McCullough (1973) insisted:

Black communities must be studied by black people for our self-interest [because] we cannot afford to be misled by the interpretations and conclusions of statistical studies done by whites who are interested in preserving the status quo. We must gather the data, analyze, and interpret them for our own needs and purposes. (p. 335)

From this perspective, research conducted and led by Africana Studies specialists plays a critical role in overcoming traditional gender biases in social science research, especially in sites where women of African descent are apparent. As an example, in 2002 and 2003 the late James Turner, former director of Cornell’s Africana Studies Research Center, hosted summer institutes on critical theory, Black women scholarship, and Africana Studies. Stanfield (1993) acknowledged one significant barrier faced by Africana Studies proponents was that “writing in the discourse style of the racially oppressed is viewed as unprofessional, as popular literature” (p. 11). Although the BSSM failed to gain traction among social scientists, it still provides guidance regarding how research within Africana Studies should be approached. The types of research consistent with the vision of Africana Studies advocates require the development of new theoretical concepts, critique and deconstruction of theories used in traditional disciplines, and introduction of innovative observational languages to guide applied research with a continual focus on how the research will enhance the quality of life of people of African descent. My Jamaican identity shapes how I see the world, as my formative years have deeply meshed with the revolutionary ideologies of Bob Marley, Marcus Garvey, C. L. R. James, and activists who transform classroom pedagogy into culture-shifting ideologies. Being both an immigrant and a Black woman in the United States gives me a particular lens through which I critique colonial legacies and systems of oppression. In my poetry, I merge personal narrative with a political lens, which resonates with your idea that Africana Studies should be driven by community-based knowledge. The African-centered values I carry focus on the collective well-being of Black people globally. My poems confront colonialism head-on, weaving in diaspora themes and the ongoing fight for liberation.

In thinking about discourse in Africana Studies research, I insist that discourse analysis is critical for operationalizing my vision of distinctive Africana Studies methodological protocols (Stewart, 2006, 2008). For me, discourse theory provides a means of “dismantling disabling conceptions of differences between social-scientific and artistic/humanistic investigations” (Stewart, 2008, p. 199). I invoke an explication of the nature of discourse theory developed by Van Dijk (1993) to undergird my assessment. For Van Dijk, discourse theory “has a double aim: a systematic theoretical and descriptive account of (a) the structures and strategies, at various levels, of written and spoken discourse, seen both as a textual ‘object’ and as a form of sociocultural practice and interaction, and (b) the relationships of these properties of text and talk with the relevant structures of their cognitive, social, cultural, and historical ‘contexts’” (p. 96). Significantly, Van Dijk insists that “discourse plays a central role not only in the ‘text’ studies of the humanities but also in the social sciences” (pp. 94–95). In addition, he provides a useful critique of postmodernist conceptions of discourse, asserting “the now fashionable ‘postmodern’ uses of the concept of ‘discourse’ have not always contributed to our understanding of the complex structures, strategies, mechanisms or processes of text talk in their sociocultural or political contexts” (Van Dijk, 1993, pp. 94–95). This critique is similar to my cautions regarding uncritical attempts to embed postmodernist formulations into Africana Studies (Stewart, 2024).

This concept of discourse allows me (Stewart, 2006, 2008) to treat the content of a literary text or work of art as embodying information analogous to quantitative or qualitative data examined by social scientists. Conversely, I insist that social science research reports constitute discourses that share some characteristics with literary and artistic modes of expression. The problem is leveraging the commonalities between these two modalities requires developing “a correspondence system that allows comparisons and cross-translation, i.e., a type of multi-modal triangulation approach to information verification” (Stewart, 2008, p. 199; see also Stewart, 2006).

I also address (Stewart, 2006, 2008) the critical need to pay close attention to the gendered character of much existing discourse. I present two examples of powerful discourses authored by Black women to illustrate the distinctive power of Black women’s voices: Collier-Thomas’s (1998) examination of the distinctive approaches to sermons developed and delivered by Black women preachers and Johnson’s (1999) exploration of the distinctive use of narrative and authorial voice in the works of selected historical and contemporary Black female authors.

Your emphasis on liberation mirrors a core principle of African studies: We must focus on African agency and reject victimology. I appreciate how your work portrays Black people not solely as victims but as active agents shaping their futures. How does PSD engage with this concept of agency?

Agency, for me, is tied to voice. PSD is fundamentally about reclaiming the power of our voices. We often discuss language as a tool of imperialism but also a tool of resistance. Through PSD, I give voice to the silenced and marginalized. Each poem is an act of self-definition, a challenge to oppressive narratives. I believe that by analyzing policy and politics through poetry, we can reveal and resist the linguistic manipulation that upholds systems of power.

Baker (1984) has proposed a framework that conceptualizes a synthesis of artistic criticism and scientific research. His approach is grounded in the “anthropology of art,” which employs guiding assumptions that are “coextensive with basic tenets of the Black Aesthetic insofar as both prospects assert that works of Afro-American literature and verbal art cannot be adequately understood unless they are contextualized with the interdependent systems of Afro-American culture” (Baker, 1984, p. 109). However, Baker also insists “the anthropology of art departs from both the Black Aesthetic . . . in its assumption that art cannot be studied without serious attention to the methods and models of many disciplines” (p. 109). He contends, “rather than ignoring (or denigrating) the research and insights of scholars in the nature (sic), social, and behavioral sciences, the anthropology of art views such efforts as positive, rational attempts to comprehend the full dimensions of human behavior. And such efforts serve the literary-theoretical investigator as guides and contributions to an understanding of the symbolic dimensions of human behavior that comprise Afro-American literature and verbal art” (Baker, 1984, p. 109). Baker’s formulation aligns with your treatment of discourse, and collectively, they provide a useful segue to the in-depth exploration of my PSD analysis.

In many respects, this framework of PSD builds on the precedent established by BAM poets. My elevation of poetry as a vehicle for disseminating liberatory messaging resurrects some of the most innovative aspects of the BAM. For example, Bentley (2024, quoted in Sekai, 2024) opines, “This framework elevates and combines the traditional approach of a singular direction with the power of lyricism and the spoken word to infuse the research phenomenon with an intricate complexity” (p. ii). In addition, I emphasized utilizing PSD as a vehicle to advance liberatory projects that resonate with the efforts of Africana Studies scholars/activists. Finally, as noted previously, this foregrounds my positionality as a Black woman, and consequently, PSD formulations contribute significantly to the magnification of Black women’s discourses.

That is a profound perspective. It reminds me of the BAM artists who used their work to challenge societal norms and catalyze social change. Like Amiri Baraka, BAM artists often employed Black English and jazz-infused structures to push back against white cultural standards. Your PSD seems to follow a similar trajectory, using poetry as both a creative and a political weapon. The material presented in A²: A Scholarly Poetical Science Discourse (Sekai, 2024) is organized into two parts. The first, categorized as “Poems With Scholarly Discourse,” contains 25 chapters. Each consists of a poem penned between 1991 and 2016 followed by a commentary (i.e., a poetical scholarly discourse, or PSD), which provides historical, sociopolitical, and cultural context drawn from a variety of published sources, including journal articles, monographs, periodicals, and research studies.

I added the discourses more recently, in the second edition (Sekai, 2024), with some referencing scholarship published as recently as 2023. Many commentaries begin with a recounting of my motivation for writing the poem and a description of its intended messaging. This praxis reasserts the agency of an author to establish guidance for readers’ interpretative efforts, which is what you were addressing in a rebuff of efforts by some postmodernists to assign primary interpretative agency to readers rather than originators (see Stewart, 2024).

It is interesting that your praxis also aligns with W. E. B. Du Bois’s (1905) emphasis on understanding current issues through a historical lens:

We can only understand the present by continually referring to and studying the past, when any one of the intricate phenomena of our daily life puzzles us, when there arises religious problems, political problems, race problems, we must always remember that while their solution lies in the present, their cause and their explanation lie in the past. (p. 104)

Several of your PSDs also include explorations of strategies available to improve future social outcomes for people of African descent. The generation of synergies between the historicism and futurism in your poems and PSDs congeals into a process that can be characterized appropriately as “Sankofa analytics.” Recall that the Akan concept of Sankofa is often represented as a bird with an egg in its beak whose head is faced in the opposite direction. This image conveys the idea that the past must be continually interrogated to provide guidance for seeking a brighter future, which is represented by the egg. Your 2016 poem “Counternarrative” and the associated PSD (Sekai, 2024, pp. 47–52) clearly illustrate the Sankofan dimensions of PSD. In one stanza, you allude to the need to structure alternative historical interpretations that draw on our collective memory to combat cultural erasure:

What they say vs. the truth

What they say vs. the truth about the statistics

. . .

Time to reclaim the truth

Through counternarrative

Save our consciousness

And tell our own stories

I am awestruck by your poignant analysis, Dr. Stewart. In the accompanying PSD, I wanted to explain, “The common thread in this piece is research . . . This piece was meant to hopefully shake the leaves of a tree so that a seed might fall and take root—a seed that will propel humanity to a place of justice and fairness” (Sekai, 2024, pp. 50–51). “Propelling humanity to a place of justice and fairness” is an aspirational goal, imagining a future in which Black liberation has been realized. The search for meaning in oppressive Eurocentric environs can wreak havoc on the psyche of even the most dedicated African-centered cultural workers. In my 2009 poem “Oblivion” (Sekai, 2024, pp. 131–132), I describe some of these personal struggles:

I don’t know what will happen

The outcome

The sensation sylphlike and free

Unknowing

Drifting like a water log along life’s path

Bumping against ragged banks of ruptured water

Falling downstream as salmon swim up

The accompanying PSD explains that “mental health and healing are the theme of this piece” (Sekai, 2024, p. 132). In addition, however, I intentionally address the issue of the interpretive agency of the author versus that of the reader: “Though each is left to the interpretation of the reader, the scholarly discourse is meant to tease the possibilities. As poetry is interpretative by those who read it, this is not an attempt to change the inference of the piece as much as it is to add context to some of my sociopolitical, cultural, and demographic influences at the time this piece was written” (Sekai, 2024, p. 132). This formulation recognizes the agency of both the creator of discourse and the consumer. However, the creator assists the consumer by suggesting practical boundaries to frame their interpretations.

In these regards, the BAM definitely has been influential. In the tradition of artists such as Etheridge Knight, Audre Lorde, Ntozake Shange, James Baldwin, Gil Scott-Heron, Thelonious Monk, Jayne Cortez, and Sonia Sanchez, I aim to blend the aesthetic with the political. However, PSD also brings in the scientific—hence the description “poetical science.” I analyze laws, policies, and societal norms in a way that BAM artists may not have always explicitly done. I use poetry to challenge the structures that regulate our lives—policies, laws, and even the languages we’re expected to use. So, PSD is not just cultural production; it’s cultural intervention.

That is the key—intervention. In my view, Africana Studies must be interventionist by nature. It is not enough to study Black people’s history or conditions; we must actively work toward social change. Your methodology seems to embody this principle.

As noted, you draw upon your heritage and cultural sensibilities to frame your poetry and PSDs. The importance of your Jamaican ancestry is emphasized in the 1997 poem “Namesake Alone” (Sekai, 2024, pp. 123–124):

Being Jamaican is more than a birthright

Being Jamaican also means to be Black

The many faces of darkness we see

Running around the island

Are only mirrors to reflect the true image of the natives

. . .

So don’t tell me you’re Jamaican

For Jamaican namesake alone

Show me your island battle scars

That give you the right

To call my island your home!!!

When you declare in the accompanying PSD, “The ‘poetry of revolt,’ brought to life, weaves resistance like threads of DNA into the communication style of the African diaspora” (Sekai, 2024, p. 125), speaking directly to the content of “Oblivion” (Sekai, 2024, pp. 131–132) you explain, “This poem speaks of pride, culture, and struggle, [and] these attributes are not unique to Jamaica. They are part and parcel of Africans wherever you may find them—symptoms of an ailment called colonialism forced upon the bodies of those still amplifying the strength of the cradle of civilization. Language will always be the art of a revolution, the stronghold of identity, and the foundation of the spirit of a people” (Sekai, 2024, p. 127).

While doing this research, I was riddled with questions about how to use the legacy of artists, scholars, revolutionaries, and culture shifters in political science research, which is how PSD was born. I hope that PSD will encourage more scholars, particularly in Africana Studies, to break free from rigid academic structures. Our work should not just be confined to traditional forms of scholarship. Actually, we should challenge the ideology of what is considered conventional or formal, considering the rich histories of African griots. However, by blending poetry with social science, I hope to encourage a more holistic way of thinking that allows scholars to interrogate oppressive systems creatively and rigorously. The ultimate goal is to empower individuals and communities to see themselves as active agents of change rather than passive subjects in an unjust system.

You have touched on something important—holism. I have long advocated for the multidimensionality of Africana Studies, using multiple analytical methods and forms of presentation. Recalling your foregrounding of your gendered experiences, the 2015 poem “Queen” (Sekai, 2024, pp. 145–147) is especially noteworthy where the person declares:

I am Queen

Walking through the land of milk and honey

I have been touched

My great Nubian sister queens of Ma’at have been the object of impersonation and adoration throughout antiquity

Like a Congo warrior, strong and fierce, I rule with passion and love so deep I have been forever misunderstood

At war against the attempt to erase my truth

The question “Have you ever read a book or poem, heard a story, or watched a movie that simply moved you—that seemed to fit how you feel and think, and to fill just one metaphysical space within you?” is one that you pose in introducing the accompanying PSD (Sekai, 2024, p. 147). In response, you state, “That’s how this piece felt in its writing and creating” (Sekai, 2024, p. 147). You then go on to explain the use of the construct “Queen”: “This ‘Queen’ is not the salutation of every sistah that a Black woman would walk by in acknowledgment of our shared ancestry, as referenced in other pieces. This ‘Queen’ is a historical celebration, lamentation, and war cry, a reclamation of facts that would easily be Whitewashed by hegemonic forces” (Sekai, 2024, p. 148). In addition, you emphasize the poem’s role as a PSD exemplar: “From the Nile to enslavement, this piece exemplifies and is an explication of the combination of artistic imagination and scholarly research” (Sekai, 2024, p. 148). Can you expound on this?

Of course. Leaning into my gendered experience in this piece is one of the most transformative experiences, not only in how I wrote the poem but also in the historical and prophetical nuances that encapsulate the past, present, and future. This is also manifested in Part II of A², titled “Poetical Science Discourse Analysis,” which contains 13 poems presented as a single chapter. These poems were originally published in the book’s first edition (Sekai, 2016). In the chapter’s introduction, I explain the absence of accompanying PSDs: “The poems in this chapter . . . are left without ‘discourse,” with interrogation technique suggestions, so readers can search for themselves in each piece” (Sekai, 2024, p. 165). Presumably, readers have developed a sufficient understanding of the synergy between poems and PSDs to generate their own counterparts. In the introductory commentary, I pose the question, “How do we begin to write or approach writing scholarly discourses around a creative piece of work” (Sekai, 2024, p. 165), recognizing] that “there is a synergy in exploring how the imagination can find itself in the very structured world of the academy” (Sekai, 2024, p. 165)? It was important to guide in my suggestion, “The biggest question may be this: How do we use creative criticism to assess and analyze literary works through a qualitative research lens?” (Sekai, 2024, p. 165).

For me, the answer is simply that PSD adds to the multidimensionality by blending scientific rigor with the expressive power of poetry. It allows for a deeper, more textured analysis. We are not just analyzing numbers or laws but tapping into these structures’ emotional and cultural dimensions. In that sense, PSD complements the transdisciplinary nature of Africana Studies by breaking down the artificial boundaries between art and science.

So then, to answer your question—how do we use creative criticism to assess and analyze literary works through a qualitative research lens?—we insist that Africana Studies specialists should develop research methodologies that synthesize insights from politically conscious cultural products with those that researchers produce, employing social science methods. A little over three decades ago, I suggested three general criteria for assessing the degree of alignment between Black creative and critical products and Africana Studies (Stewart, 1992). These criteria are useful for assessing traditions and contemporary trends in various expressive modes and call for an examination of the following: (1) the similarity between the values and images found in a work or approach and those of African American studies; (2) the degree to which history and historical explanations of contemporary phenomena are reflected; and (3) the extent to which creative artists self-consciously approach their craft as a vehicle to improve the social, economic, and political status of African Americans. These criteria can assist in developing translations between cultural products and applied research.

PSD is an exciting addition to the techniques available to Africana Studies researchers. You are offering a new way to engage with complex social issues. I see PSD as evolving into a broader movement within the academy. I hope future scholars will expand this framework, applying it to other artistic and scientific inquiry forms. I also hope PSD inspires scholars to embrace more creative methodologies to see themselves, simultaneously, as researchers, artists, activists, and community leaders. In essence, PSD is an invitation to rethink how we create and share knowledge in ways more aligned with our people’s liberation. As we continue to explore creative research strategies, I hope that we can also encourage producers of cultural products to prioritize liberatory political messaging. Perhaps motivated Africana Studies scholars/activists can cultivate relationships with progressive, creative artists to co-produce artistic works and related PSDs and distribute the products through appropriate popular media and literary volumes similar to A² (Sekai, 2024). This type of concerted effort to amplify liberatory messaging and expand its dissemination is sorely needed in the present moment when the liberatory content within Africana Studies and African American history instruction is being purged, and the limited political and economic gains won during the civil rights and Black Power movements are being increasingly reversed. Faced with similar challenges, Du Bois issued a call in 1897 for “the development of Negro genius, of Negro literature and art, of Negro spirit . . . by . . . Negroes bound and welded together . . . inspired by one vast ideal . . . [to] work out in its fullness the great message we have for humanity” (p. 79). Du Bois asserted that such a collective effort was not only “necessary for positive advance, it is imperative for negative defense” (p. 79).

It is an open question whether contemporary Black cultural workers fully appreciate the severity of the present threat posed by reactionary public policies. Hopefully, greater exposure to your work and increased outreach by Africana Studies scholars/activists can play a consciousness-raising role among cultural workers and guide the effective deployment of cultural production to combat intensifying institutional racism.