Langston Hughes: Let America Be America Again
Let America Be America Again
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.
(It never was America to me.)
O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.
(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.
I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.
Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home—
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."
The free?
Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay—
Except the dream that's almost dead today.
O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine—the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME—
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!
Discussion Questions
What was your reaction to this poem? This poem was written in 1935. How does it resonate with 2020 America?
How does this poem shape your thinking on our present moment? How might it inform your actions in healthcare or beyond?
Reflections from #MedHumChat
“It blatantly exposes all of the terrible things we grappled with previously and are grappling with today. But, Hughes still manages to conclude with a hopeful tone, believing that through her people that dream of America can become a reality for everyone.”—@CarlySokach
"Anger and despair. It still painfully reflects 2020 America. It feels like that for every step forward for marginalized communities, those in the majority have found alternative paths to oppress marginalized groups and created alternative barriers.”—@jro_joe
“For me, the Langston Hughes poems reminds me that this struggle is so much bigger than any of us. We all have a responsibility to create that dream of America he articulates, especially if we are in a privileged position.”—@colleenmfarrell
“Racism underpins the lives of our patients and our country's history. How does the history of our patients' ancestors change how they view healthcare and health? As providers, where do we fit in that journey? let us not forget this is an ongoing dialogue.”—@therhealmvp
About this #MedHumChat
“Let America Be America Again” was paired with two other poems, “When I Think of Tamir Rice While Driving” by Reginald Dwayne Betts and “where our protest sound” by Lenelle Moïse for a #MedHumChat discussion on June 3rd, 2020 exploring Racism, Police Violence, and the Struggle for Justice.
About the Author
Langston Hughes (1902-1967) was a central figure of the Harlem Renaissance and the first Black American to earn his living solely from his writing and public lectures. He has been called "a poet of the people"