The brief but shining life of Paul Laurence Dunbar, a poet who gave dignity to the Black experience
Paul Laurence Dunbar was only 33 years old when he died in 1906.
In his short yet prolific life, Dunbar used folk dialect to give voice and dignity to the experience of Black Americans at the turn of the 20th century. He was the first Black American to make a living as a writer and was seminal in the start of the New Negro Movement and Harlem Renaissance.
Dunbar also penned one of the most iconic phrases in Black literature – 'I know why the caged bird sings' – his poem 'Sympathy.'
'… When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore, When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings – I know why the caged bird sings!'
Published in 1899, 'Sympathy' inspired acclaimed Black writer and activist Maya Angelou to use Dunbar's line as the title of her seminal autobiography.
But Dunbar's artistic legacy is often overlooked. This, despite the fact that his work influenced a number of other great African American literary giants, including Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, James Weldon Johnson, Zora Neale Hurston and Margaret Walker.
In a very real sense, Dunbar is your favorite poet's favorite poet.
Born on June 27, 1872, to two formerly enslaved people from Kentucky, Dunbar was raised by his mother, and they eventually settled in Dayton, Ohio.
While there, Dunbar attended the integrated Dayton Central High School. An exceptional writer, Dunbar was the only Black student in his class and became editor-in-chief of the high school newspaper as well as a member of the literary and drama clubs and debating society.
He also became friends with a white classmate who, with his brother, would later invent the airplane – Orville Wright.
The two knew each other well.
Their friendship led to business as the Wright brothers, who owned a printing press, were the first to print Dunbar's writings, including the newspaper Dunbar started and edited, the Dayton Tattler, the first Black newspaper in that city.
After high school, the lives of Dunbar and Wright took different turns.
Unable to find consistent pay for his writing, Dunbar worked a variety of jobs, including as a janitor in one downtown Dayton office building and as an elevator operator in another. Not one to miss a business opportunity, the 20-year-old Dunbar sold his first book of poetry, 'Oak and Ivy,' to passengers he met on the elevator.
He found another such job after he moved to Washington, D.C., and worked stacking shelves at the Library of Congress. According to his wife, Alice Dunbar, an accomplished writer in her own right, it was there that her husband began to think about a caged bird.
'… The torrid sun poured its rays down into the courtyard of the library and heated the iron grilling of the book stacks until they were like prison bars in more senses than one,' Dunbar wrote. 'The dry dust of the dry books … rasped sharply in his hot throat, and he understood how the bird felt when it beats its wings against its cage.'
Dunbar's first break came when he was invited to recite his poems at the 1893 Worlds Fair, where he met Frederick Douglass, the famous abolitionist. Impressed, Douglass gave Dunbar a job and called him the 'the most promising young colored man in America.'
Dunbar's second break came three years later. On his 24th birthday, he received a glowing Harper's Weekly review of his second book of poetry, 'Majors and Minors,' from the prominent Ohio-raised literary critic William Dean Howells.
That review came with a mixed blessing. Howells' praise of Dunbar's use of dialect limited Dunbar's ability to sell his other styles of writing.
But that same review helped catapult Dunbar to international acclaim.
His stardom didn't last long, though.
Diagnosed with tuberculosis in 1900, Dunbar died from complications of the disease on Feb. 9, 1906.
But his work survives.
In all, Dunbar wrote 600 poems, 12 books of poetry, five novels, four volumes of short stories, essays, hundreds of newspaper articles and lyrics for musicals.
His poetry has been continuously set by composers, from his contemporaries to living composers still living today, including Carrie Jacobs Bond, John Carpenter, Harry Thacker Burleigh, William Bolcom and Zenobia Powell Perry.
Florence Price's numerous settings of his texts include popular and advertisement music, while William Grant Still's 'Afro-American' symphony features spoken epigraphs of Dunbar poems before each movement.
Dunbar's legacy in apparent not only in the concert hall, but on the theatrical stage as well.
Dunbar was librettist for an operetta by Samuel Coleridge Taylor, 'Dream Lovers,' written specifically for Black singers.
Dunbar's own extraordinary life became the subject for operas as composers Adolphus Hailstork, Richard Thompson, Steven Allen and Jeff Arwady composed works depicting Dunbar's legacy.
The collaborations of Dunbar and Will Marion Cook produced the first examples of contemporary musical theater.
Without Paul's contributions with 'In Dahomey' and 'Jes Lak White Fo'ks,' in my view there would be no 'Hamilton,' the modern Broadway musical written by Lin-Manuel Miranda in 2015.
Dunbar's works celebrated all of humanity.
He turned the plantation tradition on its head by using dialect to not only offer critical social commentary, as in his poem 'When Malindy Sings,' but also to portray oft-ignored humanity, as in 'When Dey 'Listed Colored Soldiers.'
Dunbar's works provide historical snapshots into the everyday lives of working-class Black Americans.
None were as poignant as his poem 'We Wear the Mask.'
'We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties.'
This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Minnita Daniel-Cox, University of Dayton
Read more:
How a Black writer in 19th-century America used humor to combat white supremacy
Langston Hughes – domestic pariah, international superstar
How World War I sparked the artistic movement that transformed Black America
Minnita Daniel-Cox has received funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities and the Mellon Foundation.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Black America Web
3 hours ago
- Black America Web
Choir to Cypher: 18 Rappers Who Have Ties to Church
Kya Kelly/Radio One Cincinnati Before they were spitting and rocking sold-out stages, some of hip-hop's most influential artists were at church sitting in pews or singing in choirs. The Black church has long been a foundational space, not just spiritually, but creatively. It's where storytelling is born in rhythm, call-and-response becomes second nature, and community means everything. For a lot of rappers, the church wasn't just the first stage: it was the first studio, the first audience, and the first school of performance, discipline, and identity. RELATED: 11 Living Legends Who Deserve Their Flowers While a few have strayed far from traditional religious paths and others have blended their faith directly into their music, the influence of the church remains clear in some of their work. Here are 18 rappers who have ties to church, and carry a piece of it with them into music: Choir to Cypher: 18 Rappers Who Have Ties to Church was originally published on Source:Getty Snoop Dogg was raised in the Baptist church and began singing and playing piano there at Golgotha Trinity Baptist Church as a child. His mother, a choir member, introduced him to gospel music and old-school R&B, which heavily influenced his musical journey. Snoop has spoken about how his church upbringing instilled in him a sense of community and family. He also credits the church with teaching him lessons that have lasted throughout his life. While he later explored other faiths, including Islam, he acknowledges the positive impact his church background had on him. Source:Getty Missy Elliott's journey began in a Virginia church choir where she sang and played instruments from a young age. Missy often credits church music with shaping her ear for melody and harmony. In 2017 when speaking on her then-newly public illness, she said: 'Not everybody believes in God but I'm a walking testimony.' Source:Getty Before he became a hip-hop legend, Christopher Wallace was raised as a Jehovah's Witness in Brooklyn. He attended St. Peter Claver Church and graduated from the parish's elementary school in 1982. His mother, Voletta Wallace, was devout in her faith and kept a tight grip on his religious upbringing. Ms. Wallace didn't listen to her son's music until after his death. Source:Getty Kanye West has never shied away from his religious roots. Raised by his mother Donda West, who kept him close to the church in Chicago, Kanye started rapping and performing at church events. Gospel music and the Black church experience heavily influenced his early albums and later became the core of his Sunday Service series. Source:Getty Tech N9ne's spiritual background is layered. Born and raised a Christian, he spent his early years attending church with his mother. At age 12, when his mother married a Muslim man, his spiritual path shifted. He began studying Islam and continued until he was 17. In his own words: 'Yes, I was born and raised a Christian. My mom married a Muslim when I was 12. I studied Islam from 12–17. I ran away from home at 17 because I didn't understand how my stepfather was trying to mold me. He was trying to make a man of me, and I thought he was picking on me. I was wrong.' Source:Getty MC Hammer's foundation in the church goes back to childhood. He was raised in a religious household and began preaching as a teenager. Long before the world knew him for parachute pants and pop-rap hits, Hammer was deeply involved in church activities, including music ministry. Many also don't know Hammer was also apart of a Christian rap group, Holy Ghost Boys. After his peak, he returned to his faith, becoming an ordained minister and starting a ministry show. Source:Getty 3 Stacks was raised in a Southern Baptist church alongside his parents. In his own words: 'I had a strict Christian upbringing, my parents and I were members of a Southern Baptist church. But with age I got closer to God all while moving away from the church.' Though he eventually distanced himself from organized religion, he never lost his sense of spirituality. André has said that his faith evolved independently, allowing him to connect with God without 'having to listen to those purveyors of nonsense.' Source:Getty Busta Rhymes was introduced to the teachings of Islam at the age of 12. While he didn't follow traditional Islam, he found a strong connection with the teachings of the Nation of Gods and Earths, also known as the Five Percent Nation (a movement that teaches that the Black man is divine and that a chosen 5% possess true knowledge of self). Busta has often incorporated that ideology into his music, using his lyrics to reflect on power, purpose, and elevation. While his lifestyle has never fit into rigid religious categories, he's remained vocal about the influence of the Five Percent teachings on how he views himself, his success, and his role in the culture. Source:Getty Phife Dawg (Malik Taylor) was raised in the Seventh-day Adventist tradition. He and Q-Tip met in their church in Queens, New York, and Phife's family strictly adhered to Adventist beliefs. So much so that he was initially forbidden from engaging with hip-hop. Source:Getty T.I. was raised in a Christian household and identified as a Southern Baptist. He's a known member of New Birth Missionary Baptist Church in Atlanta and has remained quietly but consistently devout over the years. Though he doesn't speak often about his faith in interviews, he's made it clear that church has always been part of his foundation. Source:Getty DMX was a 'born-again' Christian who openly credited his faith as central to his life, often sharing that he read the Bible daily. Even during difficult times, like his stints in jail, DMX believed there was a higher purpose at work. He once said, 'I came here to meet somebody… Don't know who it was, but I'll know when I see him.' His music frequently intertwined realities with spiritual confession, and his relationship with God remained a deeply personal part of his journey until the end. Source:Getty Lecrae is one of the most prominent examples of a rapper whose church upbringing is front and center in his career. He was raised by his single mother in a tough Houston neighborhood before moving around to Denver and San Diego. His early life was marked by hardship, including sexual abuse at age six and struggles with drugs and crime as a teenager. Lecrae carried his grandmother's Bible as a symbol of good luck. After an encounter with a police officer who urged him to live by biblical principles, he turned his life around, eventually earning a theater scholarship and graduating from the University of North Texas. At 19, a Bible study invitation from a college friend helped deepen his faith, which has since become the foundation of his music and mission. Source:Getty Nas was raised in a Christian Southern Baptist household in Queensbridge, New York. His upbringing introduced him to Christian values early on, though as he got older, his spiritual views broadened. While he doesn't claim a specific religious denomination today, Nas has often spoken about believing in a higher power and the presence of divine order in the world. Source:Getty J. Cole grew up in a Christian household, and he's never dipped away from acknowledging the impact it's had on him. In an interview with Complex , he shared, 'I grew up with a Christian foundation, so that's always going to be a part of me. It's always going to be instilled in me, whether I want it to be or not.' Traces of that foundation run throughout his storytelling. Source:Getty Joseph 'Rev Run' Simmons was raised Christian, but his spiritual path deepened after the height of Run-DMC's fame. Following the group's split in 2004, he became an ordained minister and fully embraced his role as a man of faith. Reflecting on that turning point, he shared, 'I was a little unhappy with what was going on, so I started going to church… I started to see that learning the principles of God was helping to shape my life better.' Rev Run found a renewed purpose in ministry. Source:Getty Bushwick Bill was raised with a Christian foundation but found a deeper connection to his faith later in life. Known for his graphic lyrics as a member of the Geto Boys, he experienced a spiritual transformation in his later years, becoming a born-again Christian. As his beliefs shifted, so did his music, moving toward gospel and messages of faith, redemption, and uplift. Source:Getty Cheryl 'Salt' James, one-third of the group Salt-N-Pepa, has long been open about her faith and Christian walk. Her journey led her to be baptized into the Seventh-day Adventist Church during a mission trip to Ethiopia. Since then, she's used her platforms to share Bible verses, messages of encouragement, and glimpses into her spiritual life. Phrases like 'Church Flow' and 'Happy Sunday' have become part of her regular expression online, reflecting a lifestyle grounded in faith. Source:Getty Mase shocked the hip-hop world in 1999 when he walked away from music at the height of his fame, announcing that he had received a calling from God. He said he could no longer reconcile his lyrics with his faith, stating he felt he was 'leading people down a path to hell.' Trading in rap for the pulpit, Mase devoted himself to ministry and later became the pastor of Gathering Oasis Church, a non-denominational Christian church in Atlanta. While he's returned to music on occasion, faith remains central to his life and message. Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE
Yahoo
3 hours ago
- Yahoo
However you celebrate Juneteenth, do it now. It might not be a holiday forever
There's a big question swirling around Juneteenth: How do we celebrate it? It's something organizers and activists are asking themselves as battles over history education and workplace diversity initiatives dominate debates and cross racial lines. Consider me cautiously optimistic and skeptically nervous. We've got a chance to get this right, but the George Floyd protests of 2020 and the Kendrick Lamar 2025 Super Bowl halftime concert have showed us just how far the gap is between racial progressives and social conservatives. Let's take a second to reflect on where we are and where we could go with the nation's newest federal holiday. Across the nation, Juneteenth gatherings have ranged from loud parties to quiet prayer services. These days, it's easy to find food trucks, panel discussions, live music, storytelling, history presentations, barbecue contests, spades tournaments, line dances (I know my family can't gather anywhere without doing the hustle), softball games and good-ol' fashioned speechifying. There's so much variety because Juneteenth isn't like the Fourth of July or Christmas with traditions that have become part of our national DNA. For the last 200 years or so, it's been a Black thing, and we wouldn't expect anyone else to understand. On its face, this question is wild. Does anyone ask the same thing about Hanukkah or St. Patrick's Day or Cinco de Mayo? Aside from that, Juneteenth has been for all Americans since 2021, at least. Despite the emancipation that Juneteenth celebrates, Black people have been living in two cultures throughout American history. We've got our own national anthem ('Lift Every Voice and Sing'), holiday season (Kwanzaa), Thanksgiving foods (sweet potato pie, please), music (Kendrick Lamar didn't come up with that halftime show from scratch), public figures (believe in Charlamagne tha God), authors (Angie Thomas), sports legends (Josh Gibson, Satchel Paige and Cool Papa Bell, and that's just baseball) and cultural traditions (like sitting in a chair for half a day to get your hair braided before vacation.) It's a natural response to being shut out of so many mainstream places and spaces. Of course, but people from other racial backgrounds are guests, in this case. Good guests take pains to avoid offending their hosts. (For example, I don't offer coffee to my LDS friends or bacon to my Jewish friends.) Absolutely. This is a 'Saturday Night Live' sketch waiting to happen. There shouldn't be any blackface or watermelon jokes. And, please, don't wear a MAGA hat to the cookout. But mostly, I'm afraid of how Black culture might be reduced to stereotypes or warped beyond recognition. Remember when I mentioned St. Patrick's Day and Cinco de Mayo? I don't think anyone had green beer or leprechauns in mind when they decided to honor the patron saint of Ireland in the early 1600s. And why do so many people think Cinco de Mayo is just an excuse for half off margaritas and tacos? Do we really want Juneteenth to devolve into 'St. Blacktrick's Day' or 'Negro de Mayo?' Lord knows, there are enough Black stereotypes to keep Michael Che and Colin Jost busy every weekend for the next 10 years, at least. Let's not do that, please. Remember that the Black American experience is unique and try to honor it. For me, I can't think about the Black experience without thinking about separation. People were forced onto slave ships and separated from all that they knew. Children were separated from parents on auction blocks. Families were separated during the Great Migration. And we're still reeling from the separation of the prison epidemic. It's a good time to find a community of people and celebrate the racial progress we've made over the last few decades. (For example, when Kamala Harris ran for president, it was more about her being a woman than about her being Black. That would have been an unimaginable reality for any rational person during the civil rights era.) And given all the separation Black Americans have faced through history, it would be fitting to celebrate in a community gathering — the bigger, the better. Sure, you can. Especially if you have the day off. Some people don't like crowds. Maybe. You'll have to check with your employer. Private businesses aren't required to give employees the day off, paid or otherwise. And if you do get the day off, schedule it appropriately with your supervisor. Just a guess here, but it's probably a bad idea to just skip work without telling anyone. Good question. I remember being a kid and watching 'The Ten Commandments' every Easter and 'A Christmas Story' to celebrate the birth of Baby Jesus. I'm not sure there's a Black Hollywood equivalent, but Tyler Perry or Spike Lee might have some ideas. Maybe play your favorite Sidney Poitier movie on a loop and call it high cotton? (Black people have our own way of saying 'good,' too.) The balance for me is celebrating Black resilience without spending too much time reliving Black trauma. Juneteenth came about when enslaved people in Texas finally learned about their freedom about two years after the Emancipation Proclamation. We've had to overcome a lot just to exist, and some of us are thriving. Yeah. Celebrate it now because we need the momentum. The way things are going in Washington, D.C, we can't be certain Juneteenth will remain a federal holiday forever. Reach Moore at gmoore@ or 602-444-2236. Follow him on X, formerly Twitter, @SayingMoore. Like this column? Get more opinions in your email inbox by signing up for our free opinions newsletter, which publishes Monday through Friday. This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: How to celebrate Juneteenth? Here are the dos and don'ts | Opinion


Black America Web
8 hours ago
- Black America Web
10 Father's Day Gifts For Black Dads That Won't Break the Bank
Source: FG Trade / Getty Look, I'm not going to be that guy who comes around every June and reminds y'all how Father's Day is the unmitigated afterthought of parental observance holidays. I'm not here to count cards, compare brunch budgets, or shame your decision to spend half a mortgage payment on your momma's bouquet while Dad got a mug that says 'Grill Sergeant.' Nah. We get it. Y'all love your mommas. You love seeing them in their fancy hats at church. You love how they hold you down, gas you up, and remind you that you're worthy of good things. And you should! But when it comes to your fathers, especially your Black fathers, y'all consistently fail to meet the moment. So this year, let's flip the script. Forget the neckties nobody asked for and the Outback Steakhouse reservations we never requested. Here's a list of ten gifts that won't max out your debit card but will actually mean something to that Black dad in your life. Whether he's your biological pops, your bonus dad, or the community uncle who rolled with your old man an'nem back in '83, these are the kinds of gifts that speak to the heart of Black fatherhood in 2025. Black fatherhood is a constant state of preemptive planning. From knowing which gas stations we don't go to to how to avoid that one stretch of I-290 where they got that four-lane merge, we stay game planning. So imagine the relief when, just once, you come to us with a solved problem. 'I already talked to financial aid.' 'I figured out the plumbing issue.' 'I found a good internship.' THAT is a gift. That is peace. That is knowing that the years of preparing you for this moment weren't wasted. We don't always need to be heroes. Sometimes, we just need to know that you've got this. We're not saying dads don't enjoy a good time. But if Father's Day means being the unsuspecting star of your TikTok prank, or the punchline to your latest group chat roast, go ahead and miss us with that. This year, give us the gift of being cool again. Compliment the fit. Say our playlist actually goes. Ask us about our high school stats and act like they still matter. We know the hairline's on a journey, but damn, let us be who we still see in the mirror in peace. That thing? That we placed exactly there? With duct tape and prayer? That was done on purpose . Dads don't improvise, dads engineer . Whether it's a makeshift dryer vent, an iPad holder made from a coat hanger, or keeping you from that shady cousin who's always 'starting a business,' trust that our actions were protective, not just practical. So this year, honor the rigged solutions and the boundaries we set. That was love in action. Don't fix it. Don't move it. Just say, 'Thanks, Pops.' We know you're grown (enough). We know you're busy. But the world isn't going anywhere, and neither are we (well, not yet). Give us the gift of being present. Watch the game without checking your phone. Take the scenic route with us and don't rush to the next thing. Let's cook, sit, talk nonsense, and watch clouds roll by like we used to. Our favorite version of you is the one that remembers how to just be . You know we were right. About the relationship. About the job. About that used Saab 9-3 that was definitely lemon-adjacent. Give us the gift of admission. Not because we need to be right, but because it lets us know you were listening . Say, 'You know what, Dad? You were onto something.' Watch us light up like it's our birthday. We said what we said. Tell her she can text us if she wants to. 👋🏾 Listen, we know you're grown. But give us the gift of peace of mind. Stop rolling with that one friend who 'don't believe in car insurance.' Stop taking sketchy gigs from Craigslist. Stop posting cryptic tweets that sound like you're three minutes away from a situationship relapse. Let us breathe easy knowing you're choosing safety, peace, and long-term joy over fast chaos. Just for today. Please. We love you . Not your whole kickback crew. This year, we don't want the cookout to turn into a networking event for your friend's candle startup. We don't want to meet your situationship unless it's serious-serious. Give us some one-on-one time. It doesn't mean we don't love your people. It just means that on this day, we want you . This isn't a request for a gift. We really just wanna know in case we're close to there later. Might stop by. You never know. Let us know it mattered. That all the rides, all the sacrifices, all the times we stayed silent so you could find your voice, meant something. Give us the gift of acknowledgment. Tell us we mattered. Because while the world often treats Black men like we're disposable or dangerous, you've seen us be human. Be tender. Be tired. Be joyful. And you seeing that? That's the greatest gift of all. So yes, Father's Day gets the short end of the stick. But we don't need a parade. We just need you to know we were there. That we are there. That all of this—raising you, protecting you, building a life around your safety and your dreams—was never about the clout. It was about love. We are the menders of broken things, the fixers of what can't be explained, the protectors of dreams we were never allowed to have. And all we ask for is a little love back. A little attention. A little acknowledgment that we didn't completely fumble the assignment. This year, give your dad what he actually needs: peace, presence, and a 'thank you' said like you mean it. And okay…maybe a trip to Costco, too. SEE ALSO: Op-Ed: Black Fathers Vs. The Media And The Manosphere We Don't Need Another Podcast: Black Men and the Summer of Self SEE ALSO 10 Father's Day Gifts For Black Dads That Won't Break the Bank was originally published on Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE