Poet, novelist, playwright, librettist, essayist, and translator, James Mercer Langston Hughes was born in Joplin, Missouri on February 1, 1902, to parents Caroline (Carrie) Mercer Langston, a school teacher, and James Nathaniel Hughes, an attorney. His parents separated before Langston was born and he spent his pre-adolescent years with his maternal grandmother, Mary Patterson Langston, in Lawrence, Kansas. Mary Langston was the second wife of Charles Henry Langston, a major black political activist in Kansas, and the sister-in-law of former U.S. Congressman John Mercer Langston. After his grandmother’s death, Caroline married Homer Clark, a steel mill worker in Lincoln, Illinois. The couple settled in Cleveland, Ohio with Langston and his younger brother, Gwyn.

Hughes was fiercely independent from an early age. When his mother and brother followed his stepfather who occasionally left the family in search of higher wages, Langston stayed in Cleveland to finish high school. He also had a volatile relationship with his attorney father who pursued work in Cuba and who by 1920 was general manager of an American company in Mexico. Langston Hughes joined his father in Mexico City briefly in 1919, moved back to Cleveland to complete high school, and then upon receiving his diploma in 1920, returned to Mexico City.

Rather than acquiesce to his domineering father’s demands that he pursue a degree in mining engineering, Langston moved to New York City, New York and enrolled in Columbia University. Hughes quit Columbia after a year and decided to acquire a more worldly education. In 1922, he began a two-year stint as a ship’s crewman, during which he traveled to, and spent considerable time in, western Africa, France, and Italy. He also briefly lived in the expatriate community in London, England before returning to the United States in November 1924 to live with his mother in Washington, D.C. In 1925, he became the personal assistant of historian Carter G. Woodson, the founder of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History.

In 1926, Hughes he enrolled in Lincoln University (Pennsylvania) and earned a liberal arts degree in 1930. His classmates included Thurgood Marshall, a future U.S. Supreme Court justice. While there, he joined Omega Psi Phi Fraternity.

While in college, Hughes often returned to Harlem where he became a major figure in the Harlem Renaissance. Hughes deeply believed that black art should represent the experiences and culture of the black “folk.” Images of rural and urban working-class African Americans filled his poetry and prose, and his writing celebrated blues and jazz culture. Some of his more famous works associated with the Harlem Renaissance include the collections of poems, The Weary Blues (1926) and Fine Clothes to the Jew (1927); the novel Not Without Laughter (1930); and the essay “The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain” (1926).

Hughes was also politically engaged. During the 1930s, he wrote plays highlighting the injustice of the Scottsboro case and the imprisonment of the black Communist organizer, Angelo Herndon. In 1932, he was among a group of prominent black intellectuals who traveled to the Soviet Union to participate in an ultimately aborted film about black workers in the U.S. After realizing the film would not be made, Hughes decided to use the opportunity to travel across the Soviet Union to learn more about the world’s first Communist nation. During his travels, he spend a brief period in Turkmenistan (then part of the Soviet Union but now an independent nation) before traveling on to China and Japan. Between 1934 and 1935, Hughes lived in California, where he completed one novel and co-wrote the screenplay for the Hollywood film, Way Down South.

In 1937, Hughes spent several months in Spain during its civil war as a correspondent for the Baltimore Afro-American and a supporter of the anti-fascist forces. Even though Hughes began to distance himself from the left after World War II, he was enveloped by the anti-communist hysteria of the Cold War era and testified before Sen. Joseph McCarthy’s Subcommittee on Un-American Activities in 1953.

Hughes wrote sixteen books of poetry, twelve novels and short stories, and eight children’s books. His honors and awards included a Guggenheim Fellowship (1934), Rosenwald Fellowship (1941), the Ainsfield-Wolf Book Award (1954), and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) Spingarn Award (1960).

By the early 1940s, Hughes ceased his peripatetic lifestyle and settled permanently in Harlem. However, he continued to write and interact with fellow Harlem Renaissance writers, such as Arna Bontemps, as well as younger writers he sought to encourage like Alice Walker. Langston Hughes died in Harlem on May 22, 1967, at the age of 65. James Mercer Langston Hughes’ ashes are interred beneath a floor medallion in the foyer of the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture.

LANGSTON HUGHES (1902-1967)

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  • Mokey [none/use name]
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    1 year ago
    mokel jam also

    I went to a jam session last night again, this time it was only five minutes from my place. Way too many rich white kids, I have a serious issue functioning normally when it’s in my face.

    My mentor was hosting it. All the rich white kids were there because they want to be under his wing.

    I’m angry because I try to be nice and generous with my time and the fact that I have a car and I’m feeling that to some of these guys they think that I’m weird for doing that. That is absolutely rich white kid behavior. Like, if I was that age again and someone was offering me free rides to places that were 40 minutes away, count me the fuck in. There’s nothing about me that’s threatening or weird, it’s not me. I literally just want to be helpful and make friends with people who are working on what I’m working on. I decided that I’m not going out of my way to help these guys anymore.

    What I also hate about this is that if I played better all these people would want to take me up on my offer, they definitely would for my mentor, but why does that come in to factor at all? It’s so fake and I hate what that means for this community. I guess my saving grace is that most of these guys will leave this area or straight up quit when things don’t magically turn into a career.

    First Song: Felt awful, the bass player and I weren’t linking up and I’m not sure whose fault it was. Probably mine. Didn’t record.

    Second Song: Got kicked off the kit by a tap dancer. Super uncool, he’s not in the culture and just decided to boss the jam session around. Made me really mad, like break his tap dancing board over his head mad. We have a tap dancer problem that showed up after covid. Tap dancers will come to the jam session and just dance all over everything but also just playing shit that doesn’t make sense in the song. A little frustrating, this person isn’t even good, stay home and practice to records more. If he does this shit again I’m yelling at him. The tap dancers will come out to non-jazz music jams too and like bro these are swing rhythms over non swing music go home!!! Mentor was mad.

    Third Song: I played with a bass player who vibed the shit out of me awhile ago, I stopped going to his jam session after that night and I have zero desire to be cool with him. His jam session is now closed too which rules fuck him. I recorded this time. The time and my solo felt good. Still have the issue of chattering and interjecting way too much on the kit.

    I’m getting depressed because after all this time and effort, it’s still not good enough. I didn’t really start until I was 20, I never had a teacher who gave me what I needed and most of them didn’t care. I have a graduate degree and I still didn’t come out that far ahead. I feel like not growing up and doing music has cursed my existence, there’s so many things you miss by skipping K-12 education.

    My partner has students and sometimes she’ll get one who needs so much remedial work she starts getting really severe about it. They say that I can do it and get better but I think they’re just being nice. I feel like I’m honestly just fucked. There’s also an element that I’m just too stupid to do this. There’s too many holes for someone like me to fall in.

    eviscerated boohoo

      • Mokey [none/use name]
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        1 year ago

        failure is when i quit!!! i use the megathread to vent and then move on, or atleast i think i am doing that. like there’s a consistent thread that permeates my life but i have gotten better over the years. ill be good one day.