More than her own failings, perhaps there are times when new nations are just not ready to be called into being.
Although Phillis Wheatley (Peters) is widely known as the first African woman to publish a book of poetry in English, her biography—her forced Middle Passage journey to Boston, her enslavement by the Wheatley family, her rise to poetic celebrity and eventual fall into obscurity—often looms larger than the poems themselves.
But what would it mean to consider Phillis not as a “slave,” but as a poet, writer and critic who was enslaved?
Slavery was not an innate identity. It was a system imposed upon the enslaved. And when we return to Phillis’ work with that understanding, we encounter a writer of formidable imagination—one who envisioned interior worlds of freedom even while living within bondage.
Phillis’ personification of Imagination becomes, in this sense, a founding feminist figure—an “imperial queen” who invites us to leave the rolling universe behind and imagine new worlds. That work of imagination remains unfinished. It is the ongoing labor of love that Black feminist traditions continue to carry forward today.
(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)
