10 Questions for Faylita Hicks
- By Franchesca Viaud
In a quiet hall, beneath a church in Chicago's West Side, too many of us stand in a circle and wait for introductions. Some with our headphones on, our fingers crossed. Others with our eyes on the trays of food. The radio on my hip burrs. Pitches. Hums. Condenses—until I can hear clearly an enunciated whisper clapping through.
Hello. My name is—, and I want to thank you all for being brave enough to be with us today. Brave—as in willing to be seen in the sanctified light some have been burdened with this morning. To be noticed for what we are—are all previously incarcerated or detained. We hope that you'll share, but if not—the walls sway or the people have been swaying or the room is turning counter-clockwise and we are all back in our cages, smaller versions of ourselves; all of us having fed our ghosts fresh fruit and pan.
—from "Slash/Burn," Volume 64, Issue 4 (Winter 2023)
Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
That’s a great question and as far as I can remember, it was a piece about what kind of artist I wanted to be. As a teenager, I wrote verses that could be called poems, but it wasn’t until I was introduced to the spoken word scene as a college freshman at 17 years old that I attempted my first full “poem.” It was a manifesto. I wanted to introduce myself to the world and I used the slam stage to do so.
What writer(s) or works have influenced the way you write now?
That list feels huge! Patricia Smith, Carolyn Forché, Li Young-Lee, Allen Ginsberg, Sylvia Plath, Ai, Natalie Diaz, Audre Lorde, Nikki Giovanni, Toni Morrison, George Moses Horton, Sharon Olds, Louise Glück, T.S. Eliot, Virginia Woolfe, Zora Neale Hurston, Lerone Bennett Jr., Martín Espada, Gloria Anzaldúa, Emily Dickinson, and too many more. Not all of these writers are people who I agree with ideologically or in some cases, politically, but I try to stay honest about how their individual works led me to some epiphany about my own writing practice.
What other professions have you worked in?
I’ve been a server at several chain restaurants, a Target and Walmart employee, an inbound and outbound call center sales salesperson, a Census Taker, a local radio show host, a professional movie extra, a janitor at an Amazon warehouse, a poorly paid commercial actor, a student teacher with Communities In Schools, a NASM-certified personal trainer, an Herbalife Coach, a Mary Kay Cosmetics and Avon representative, and an event producer.
What did you want to be when you were young?
A rock star! I would dream about touring the world and performing on all the biggest stages. Fun fact: I was was one of the people to audition for the first-ever season of American Idol in Austin on the same night as Kelly Clarkson. I even made it past the first round. But my mother was concerned about me having to go to Los Angeles for a tv show she’d never heard of and as I was only fifteen, I couldn’t attend any more auditions without her present. After missing out on American Idol, I thought I’d become a film actor.
What inspired you to write this piece?
After participating in the 2019 Directly Impacted cohort with Detention Watch Network, working with the grassroots organization Mano Amiga, and collaborating with a number of national abolitionist organizations, I finally understood just how closely linked the fight to end migrant detention and the fight to abolish the carceral system are. Both initiatives are rooted in our collective desires to move freely throughout the world in search of equitable opportunities and safety. The shape of the essay mimics my desire to break out of traditional storytelling methods. I wanted to share it for this issue because of the people who, for me, represent the ultimate barrier breakers: femmes, queer, and trans women.
Is there a city or place, real or imagined, that influences your writing?
Though I now live in Chicago, I will always be a child of America’s Southwest. The expanse and the limitlessness of it give me plenty of runway for dreaming. The more I learn about the history of the region, becoming familiar with the nuances in its seasons and the rhythms of its wildlife, the more I feel connected to my ancestors and the land in which I was raised. A close second is Las Vegas. It is a hive of lights filled with startling technologies, a nostalgic wonder, and an overwhelming bed of grief. During my time there as a Shearing Fellow with Black Mountain Institute, I learned a lot about the history of the city and the natural spaces that surround it. It’s the place where I first said goodbye to my old life as an aspiring writer and transitioned into my full-time practice. It was not an easy transition—but it is one I am overwhelmingly grateful for.
Is there any specific music that aids you through the writing or editing process?
I listen to a lot of contemporary jazz and hz frequencies. The beauty and privilege of working from home as a single person is the silence. I spend most of my days enjoying the meditative quiet, which is especially poignant during the winter. But when I need to be pushed, turned back on, made present—I throw on Esperanza Spalding or the tracks I’m obsessed with right now like “Inner Flight” or Mammal Hands’ “The Spinner.”
Do you have any rituals or traditions that you do in order to write?
I greet my ancestors with a lit candle, incense, and coffee or shot of rum. I turn on all the lights in the part of the house where I’ll be writing. I grab a cup of coffee and a glass of water. Stretch. Look to my whiteboard for my goals for the week, month, year, and overall life. I check emails for any pressing deadlines. Put everything on Do Not Disturb. Have a cigarette. Then—I get in my chair and start from the beginning. I read whatever I’ve done so far and cut it all up.
If you could work in another art form what would it be?
I actually do work in multiple art forms. It helps me still express when the writing isn’t doing what I feel like it ought to be doing. I write verses for music, I take photos, I create digital collages, or I practice poems for performance. I’ve even got a couple of drums and a keyboard. If I had to choose one, it would probably be music at this point. I’d want to throw all of my energy into it.
What are you working on currently?
My next poetry collection, A Map of my Want, is coming out in July 2024 with Haymarket Books. I’m wrapping up the final edits and turning my energy towards my debut memoir, A Body of Wild Light, scheduled for 2025. I’m pretty excited because I’ll be hopping back in the booth soon to work on another spoken word album with saxophonist Benjamin Boone. I’ve got several projects I hope to see come into being this year including a solo exhibit for my photography series featuring portraits of previously incarcerated or formerly detained people “Flowers in a Field of Terror.” I’m also continuing to support the growth of the Center for Art and Advocacy, a nonprofit beneficiary of the Art for Justice Fund. It’s a great organization that is helping directly impacted artists build the platform they need to thrive.
FAYLITA HICKS (she/they) is an Afro-Latinx writer, artivist, and cultural strategist. They are the author of HoodWitch (Acre Books), a finalist for the 2020 Lambda Literary Award for Bisexual Poetry, the forthcoming poetry collection A Map of My Want (Haymarket Books), and the debut memoir about their carceral experiences A Body of Wild Light (Haymarket Books). A voting member of the Recording Academy, Hicks is the recipient of grants, residencies, and fellowships from the Art for Justice Fund, the Texas After Violence Project, Black Mountain Institute, Broadway Advocacy Coalition, Civil Rights Corps, Right of Return USA, and Tin House, among others. The winner of the 2020 Sappho Award from Palette Poetry, their poetry and essays have been published or are forthcoming in American Poetry Review, Longreads, Poem-A-Day, Poetry Magazine, Scalawag, Slate, The Slowdown Podcast, and Yale Review, amongst others.
