Toi Derricotte

(April 12, 1941 / Hamtramck, Michigan)

Toi Derricotte
Do you like this poet?
22 person liked.
27 person did not like.


Toi Derricotte (pronounced DARE-ah-cot ) is an American poet and a professor of writing at University of Pittsburgh.

At Wayne State University she earned a B.A. in 1965 and an M.A. in 1984 at New York University in English literature.

Biography

Derricotte was born the daughter of Antonia Baquet, a Creole from Louisiana, and Benjamin Sweeney Webster, a Kentucky native, and later half-sister to Benjamin, Jr. At around ten or eleven years old, she began a secret journal that included, among other things, the disintegration of her parents' marriage and the death of her grandmother on whom she was very emotionally dependent. During her years at Detroit's Girls ... more »

Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.


Quotations

more quotations »
  • ''Poetry asks people to have values, form opinions, care about some other part of experience besides making money and being successful on the job.''
    Toi Derricotte (b. 1941), African American poet. As quoted in A Gift That Cannot Be Refused, ch. 8, by Mary Biggs (1990). Written in 1983.
Read more quotations »

Comments about Toi Derricotte

more comments »
  • Rookie Joanne Elliott (1/18/2014 7:21:00 PM)

    A wondrous poet - so deep & meaningful.

  • Rookie - 24 Points Benjuzzy Okpuzor (1/20/2012 5:16:00 AM)

    wawu, too lovely, good poems mum

  • Rookie Jerry Buckley (1/19/2012 12:29:00 PM)

    I really enjoyed your poem The Weakness... a powerful and honest write. Thanks.... Jerry Buckley

  • Rookie Ward Stewart (1/18/2012 7:31:00 PM)

    Bless your sweet heart!

Read all 4 comments »
Best Poem of Toi Derricotte

The Weakness

That time my grandmother dragged me
through the perfume aisles at Saks, she held me up
by my arm, hissing, "Stand up,"
through clenched teeth, her eyes
bright as a dog's
cornered in the light.
She said it over and over,
as if she were Jesus,
and I were dead.She had been
solid as a tree,
a fur around her neck, a
light-skinned matron whose car was parked, who walked
on swirling
marble and passed through
brass openings--in 1945.
There was not even a black
elevator operator at Saks.
The saleswoman had brought velvet
leggings to lace ...

Read the full of The Weakness

PoemHunter.com Updates

[Hata Bildir]