Who is Gwendolyn Brooks

Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks (June 7, 1917 – December 3, 2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. Her work often dealt with the personal celebrations and struggles of ordinary people in her community. She won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry on May 1, 1950, for Annie Allen, making her the first African American to receive a Pulitzer Prize.Throughout her prolific writing career, Brooks received many more honors. A lifelong resident of Chicago, she was appointed Poet Laureate of Illinois in 1968, a position she held until her death 32 years later. She was also named the U.S. Poet Laureate for the 1985–86 term. In 1976, she became the first African American woman inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

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Gwendolyn Elizabeth Brooks was ...
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Top 10 most used topics by Gwendolyn Brooks

I Love You 15 Love 15 Black 10 Time 10 Sweet 9 Never 8 Home 8 Door 8 Night 8 Sun 7


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Fscjllc: in honor of women's history month, we're highlighting our archival holdings of kalliope magazine, a women's art & lit magazine published by fscj from 1979-2008. this 1980 issue includes an interview with pulitzer prize-winning poet gwendolyn brooks. visit
Supersimple1: good health is a duty to yourself, to your contemporaries, to your inheritors, to the progress of the world. ~gwendolyn brooks
Kolaboof3: i remember being so touched and amazed when i read the novel maud martha by gwendolyn brooks. in 1950 she became the first black writer to win a pulitzer prize. i believe colorism is the reason she is rarely feted & talked about. she remains one of our greatest writers ever!
Rrpansari: last month, the west oak lane charter school executive leadership council reconvened in person for the first time in 3 years and welcomed two new members, gwendolyn brooks, project manager for the hud hbcu program at northwest counseling services, and jea…
Lavenderhermit: sweet is it, sweet is it to sleep in the coolness of snug unawareness — gwendolyn brooks
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Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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