Introduction: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan first appeared in her 1980 poetry collection Passion: New Poems, 1977–1980, later reprinted in Directed by Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jordan (2005). The poem is a fierce and unapologetic declaration of bodily autonomy, racial identity, and resistance against systems of oppression that criminalize and violate Black women’s existence. Through its confessional and political tone, Jordan connects personal trauma to collective histories of colonialism, racism, and patriarchy, stating, “I am the history of rape / I am the history of the rejection of who I am.” Her repetition of “wrong”—“the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin”—exposes how societal hierarchies define worth and legitimacy through gender and race. The poem’s raw emotional force and political urgency made it one of the most celebrated feminist and anti-colonial texts of the late twentieth century. Its popularity stems from Jordan’s ability to merge personal pain with global injustice, linking “South Africa penetrating into Namibia” to the violence inflicted upon her own body. By ending with defiance—“Wrong is not my name / My name is my own my own my own”—Jordan transforms victimhood into resistance, asserting a radical self-ownership that resonates powerfully across feminist and liberationist discourses.
Text: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
Even tonight and I need to take a walk and clear
my head about this poem about why I can’t
go out without changing my clothes my shoes
my body posture my gender identity my age
my status as a woman alone in the evening/
alone on the streets/alone not being the point/
the point being that I can’t do what I want
to do with my own body because I am the wrong
sex the wrong age the wrong skin and
suppose it was not here in the city but down on the beach/
or far into the woods and I wanted to go
there by myself thinking about God/or thinking
about children or thinking about the world/all of it
disclosed by the stars and the silence:
I could not go and I could not think and I could not
stay there
alone
as I need to be
alone because I can’t do what I want to do with my own
body and
who in the hell set things up
like this
and in France they say if the guy penetrates
but does not ejaculate then he did not rape me
and if after stabbing him if after screams if
after begging the bastard and if even after smashing
a hammer to his head if even after that if he
and his buddies fuck me after that
then I consented and there was
no rape because finally you understand finally
they fucked me over because I was wrong I was
wrong again to be me being me where I was/wrong
to be who I am
which is exactly like South Africa
penetrating into Namibia penetrating into
Angola and does that mean I mean how do you know if
Pretoria ejaculates what will the evidence look like the
proof of the monster jackboot ejaculation on Blackland
and if
after Namibia and if after Angola and if after Zimbabwe
and if after all of my kinsmen and women resist even to
self-immolation of the villages and if after that
we lose nevertheless what will the big boys say will they
claim my consent:
Do You Follow Me: We are the wrong people of
the wrong skin on the wrong continent and what
in the hell is everybody being reasonable about
and according to the Times this week
back in 1966 the C.I.A. decided that they had this problem
and the problem was a man named Nkrumah so they
killed him and before that it was Patrice Lumumba
and before that it was my father on the campus
of my Ivy League school and my father afraid
to walk into the cafeteria because he said he
was wrong the wrong age the wrong skin the wrong
gender identity and he was paying my tuition and
before that
it was my father saying I was wrong saying that
I should have been a boy because he wanted one/a
boy and that I should have been lighter skinned and
that I should have had straighter hair and that
I should not be so boy crazy but instead I should
just be one/a boy and before that
it was my mother pleading plastic surgery for
my nose and braces for my teeth and telling me
to let the books loose to let them loose in other
words
I am very familiar with the problems of the C.I.A.
and the problems of South Africa and the problems
of Exxon Corporation and the problems of white
America in general and the problems of the teachers
and the preachers and the F.B.I. and the social
workers and my particular Mom and Dad/I am very
familiar with the problems because the problems
turn out to be
me
I am the history of rape
I am the history of the rejection of who I am
I am the history of the terrorized incarceration of
myself
I am the history of battery assault and limitless
armies against whatever I want to do with my mind
and my body and my soul and
whether it’s about walking out at night
or whether it’s about the love that I feel or
whether it’s about the sanctity of my vagina or
the sanctity of my national boundaries
or the sanctity of my leaders or the sanctity
of each and every desire
that I know from my personal and idiosyncratic
and indisputably single and singular heart
I have been raped
be-
cause I have been wrong the wrong sex the wrong age
the wrong skin the wrong nose the wrong hair the
wrong need the wrong dream the wrong geographic
the wrong sartorial I
I have been the meaning of rape
I have been the problem everyone seeks to
eliminate by forced
penetration with or without the evidence of slime and/
but let this be unmistakable this poem
is not consent I do not consent
to my mother to my father to the teachers to
the F.B.I. to South Africa to Bedford-Stuy
to Park Avenue to American Airlines to the hardon
idlers on the corners to the sneaky creeps in
cars
I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name
My name is my own my own my own
and I can’t tell you who the hell set things up like this
but I can tell you that from now on my resistance
my simple and daily and nightly self-determination
may very well cost you your life
Copyright Credit: June Jordan, “Poem About My Rights” from Directed By Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jordan (Port Townsend, WA: Copper Canyon Press, 2005). Copyright © 2005 by The June M. Jordan Literary Trust. Used by permission of The June M. Jordan Literary Trust, www.junejordan.com.
Source: The Collected Poems of June Jordan (2005)
Annotations: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
| Section (Lines) | Summary / Annotation | Key Literary Devices (Definition + Example + Function) |
| 1–10 | Jordan opens by expressing how even walking alone at night feels forbidden because society polices her as a woman, forcing her to alter her behavior and appearance. The repetition of “wrong” captures deep social conditioning and guilt. | Repetition: “wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin” – stresses systemic labeling. Imagery: “changing my clothes my shoes my body posture” – visualizes fear and restriction. Enjambment: “alone on the streets/alone not being the point” – mirrors her restless thought process. Tone: Defiant yet weary – conveys frustration and introspection. |
| 11–20 | The speaker longs for solitude and connection with nature but realizes even thinking freely is denied to her. Freedom itself becomes unsafe. “Stars and silence” symbolize the serenity she cannot access. | Symbolism: “stars and the silence” – represent lost peace and freedom. Anaphora: “I could not go and I could not think” – emphasizes oppression. Contrast: Freedom vs. restriction – highlights gender-based limitation. Pathos: Emotional appeal evoking empathy for women’s loss of autonomy. |
| 21–30 | She mocks patriarchal legal absurdities defining rape only by male pleasure. The irony exposes systemic victim-blaming and moral decay of justice systems. | Irony: “then he did not rape me” – ridicules twisted legal standards. Hyperbole: “after smashing a hammer to his head” – exaggeration to reveal injustice. Repetition: “if… if…” – builds anger and rhythm. Satire: Legal and social mockery of victim consent. |
| 31–40 | Her personal violation becomes political. Jordan compares rape to colonial penetration, merging gender oppression with racial and geopolitical exploitation. | Extended Metaphor: “South Africa penetrating into Namibia” – equates imperialism with rape. Juxtaposition: Private assault vs. colonial invasion – blurs personal/political boundaries. Allusion: “Angola, Zimbabwe” – references African liberation struggles. Parallelism: “and if after…” – accumulates global scale of violence. |
| 41–50 | She expands oppression globally — linking racism, colonialism, and American interventionism. “Wrong skin” and “wrong continent” mirror her personal alienation. | Direct Address: “Do You Follow Me” – engages readers to confront truth. Political Allusion: “C.I.A… Nkrumah… Lumumba” – exposes Western exploitation. Repetition: “wrong people of the wrong skin” – universalizes oppression. Rhetorical Question: “what in the hell is everybody being reasonable about” – challenges moral complacency. |
| 51–60 | Focus shifts to her family: her father’s fear and mother’s conformity reflect internalized racism and patriarchy. The poem reveals generational trauma rooted in colonial values. | Generational Symbolism: “my father… my mother” – family mirrors social oppression. Irony: Parents adopt oppressive ideals instead of protecting her. Imagery: “plastic surgery for my nose” – evokes assimilation pressures. Repetition: “wrong” – continues inherited rejection of self. |
| 61–70 | Jordan mocks institutions—C.I.A., FBI, Exxon—claiming their “problems” are actually her existence. It’s biting irony: marginalized people are treated as the “problem” itself. | Irony: “the problems turn out to be me” – bitterly sarcastic realization. Parallelism: “the problems of…” – rhythmic indictment of systems. Tone Shift: From mockery to revelation. Metaphor: “I am the problem” – internalized social hostility. |
| 71–80 | She universalizes her experience, declaring herself as the embodiment of all oppression. “I am the history of rape” transforms pain into collective resistance. | Anaphora: “I am the history of…” – builds identity and solidarity. Metaphor: “history of rape” – symbolizes centuries of abuse. Personification: “limitless armies against whatever I want” – oppression as living force. Tone: Fierce and declarative – transforms trauma into defiance. |
| 81–90 | The sanctity of her body, soul, and nation are intertwined. Personal autonomy equals political sovereignty; both have been violated and must be reclaimed. | Parallelism: “sanctity of my vagina… sanctity of my leaders” – unites body and politics. Symbolism: “vagina” – personal autonomy and resistance. Repetition: “sanctity” – underscores sacredness of rights. Political Allegory: Her body as colonized territory. |
| 91–End | The poem ends in defiance: she rejects imposed “wrongness” and reclaims her name, declaring “this poem is not consent.” Her resistance becomes revolutionary self-determination. | Anaphora: “my own my own my own” – asserts ownership and identity. Antithesis: “I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name” – rejects imposed labels. Metaphor: “this poem is not consent” – poem as act of refusal. Climax: Final assertion of freedom and rebellion. |
Literary And Poetic Devices: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
| Literary Device | Examples | Explanation |
| Alliteration | “body because I am the wrong / sex the wrong skin” | The repetition of the s sound creates rhythm and intensity, emphasizing the suffocating persistence of identity-based oppression. |
| Allusion | “Nkrumah… Patrice Lumumba… South Africa… C.I.A.” | References to historical figures and geopolitical powers connect personal trauma to global systems of racism, patriarchy, and imperialism. |
| Anaphora | “the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin” / “I am the history of…” | Repetition at the beginning of clauses underscores systemic and recurring forms of discrimination and self-reclamation. |
| Antithesis | “This poem / is not consent.” | Contrasts victimization with resistance, rejecting imposed guilt and asserting control over one’s identity and voice. |
| Apostrophe | “Do You Follow Me” | Direct address to the reader or audience breaks narrative distance and demands engagement and accountability. |
| Assonance | “alone on the streets / alone not being the point” | The long o sound conveys melancholy, echoing the theme of isolation and internal struggle. |
| Caesura | “I have been raped / be– / cause I have been wrong…” | The abrupt pause creates tension, reflecting both the speaker’s emotional fracture and the violence she describes. |
| Enjambment | “alone / as I need to be / alone because I can’t do what I want…” | Continuous thought flow mirrors a stream of consciousness, conveying frustration and urgency. |
| Free Verse | Entire poem without rhyme or regular meter | The absence of formal structure symbolizes the poet’s resistance to confinement and the dismantling of social constraints. |
| Hyperbole | “limitless armies against whatever I want to do with my mind and my body” | Exaggeration expresses the overwhelming power of institutionalized oppression and the scale of control over her existence. |
| Imagery | “down on the beach… thinking about God/or thinking about children or thinking about the world” | Vivid visual and sensory imagery contrasts natural serenity with social restriction, showing the loss of freedom. |
| Irony | “then I consented and there was / no rape” | Highlights the absurdity and cruelty of legal systems that redefine violence to favor perpetrators, critiquing patriarchal reasoning. |
| Juxtaposition | “Pretoria ejaculates… proof of the monster jackboot ejaculation on Blackland” | The juxtaposition of sexual and political imagery equates colonial conquest with rape, linking bodily and geopolitical violation. |
| Metaphor | “I am the history of rape” / “I have been the meaning of rape” | The metaphor of rape represents historical and systemic violation, merging personal and political subjugation. |
| Parallelism | “the sanctity of my vagina or / the sanctity of my national boundaries” | Balanced phrasing parallels body and nation, connecting personal autonomy with political sovereignty. |
| Personification | “the problems turn out to be / me” | Society’s collective “problems” are personified in the speaker, showing how marginalized identities are scapegoated. |
| Repetition | “I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name / My name is my own my own my own” | Reinforces defiance and ownership of identity, turning self-naming into an act of rebellion. |
| Simile | “which is exactly like South Africa / penetrating into Namibia” | Compares political invasion to sexual assault, merging bodily violation with imperial aggression. |
| Symbolism | “my own body” for self-ownership; “boundaries” for sovereignty | Symbols of body and border represent freedom, autonomy, and resistance to patriarchal and colonial control. |
| Tone | From despair (“I am the history of rape”) to defiance (“Wrong is not my name”) | The tonal shift mirrors emotional and ideological transformation—from victimhood to empowered self-determination. |
Themes: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
🌺 Theme 1: Gender and Bodily Autonomy
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan explores the struggle for bodily autonomy within a patriarchal world that continually polices and violates women’s freedoms. The speaker laments, “I can’t do what I want / to do with my own body because I am the wrong / sex the wrong age the wrong skin,” highlighting how gender, race, and age intersect to define oppression. The poem transforms personal fear into political resistance, exposing how women are made to internalize blame for their own victimization. Jordan’s defiant statement—“this poem / is not consent”—reclaims control over her narrative, denying the world’s attempt to misinterpret her silence as submission. The repeated affirmation, “My name is my own my own my own,” becomes a rhythmic chant of self-possession, rejecting patriarchal ownership of the female body. Through this theme, Jordan demands recognition of a woman’s right to autonomy, asserting that resistance begins with reclaiming the body as one’s own sacred space.
🔥 Theme 2: Intersection of Racism, Sexism, and Colonial Oppression
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan links the personal violation of women’s bodies to the political exploitation of colonized nations, exposing how both forms of domination stem from the same patriarchal logic of control. Jordan’s analogy—“which is exactly like South Africa / penetrating into Namibia”—merges the language of sexual violence with that of imperial invasion. This parallel transforms the poem into a broader critique of historical and racial injustice. Her references to “Patrice Lumumba” and “Nkrumah” situate her personal struggle within a global context of anti-colonial resistance, drawing attention to how the destruction of Black leaders mirrors the silencing of Black women. Through these juxtapositions, Jordan reveals that oppression operates simultaneously on individual and collective levels. The female body becomes a metaphor for occupied territory, and reclaiming it becomes an act of decolonization. Her voice, therefore, embodies both personal defiance and the collective resistance of oppressed peoples.
🌍 Theme 3: Identity, Self-Definition, and Resistance
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan articulates a journey from imposed identity to self-definition, turning resistance into a form of self-creation. The poet repeatedly lists how she has been told she is “the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin,” exposing how social norms shape internalized inferiority. Yet, through her language, Jordan dismantles this narrative of wrongness, declaring, “Wrong is not my name.” The act of naming herself becomes revolutionary—by reclaiming language, she reclaims power. Her insistence, “My name is my own,” signifies not only personal ownership but also the rejection of externally imposed labels of race, gender, and beauty. Through self-assertion, Jordan’s voice transcends victimhood, transforming identity into an active force of defiance. The poem thus celebrates the power of language as a tool of liberation, suggesting that naming oneself truthfully is the first step toward reclaiming existence from systems of oppression.
⚡ Theme 4: Violence, Power, and Global Injustice
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan situates personal suffering within a larger framework of systemic violence and political corruption, revealing how institutions perpetuate domination at every level. Jordan writes, “I am very familiar with the problems of the C.I.A.… the problems turn out to be / me,” demonstrating how marginalized individuals bear the weight of global injustices. Her invocation of “South Africa,” “Exxon Corporation,” and “white America” connects the intimate violence of rape to the economic and political violence of colonial exploitation. The closing lines, “from now on my resistance / my simple and daily and nightly self-determination / may very well cost you your life,” shift the tone from victimization to revolutionary defiance. This assertion of power transforms survival into rebellion, suggesting that true justice threatens the systems that depend on inequality. Through this theme, Jordan turns her poem into both a personal manifesto and a global indictment of oppressive hierarchies that sustain violence in all its forms.
Literary Theories and “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
| Literary Theory | Application with References from the Poem |
| 1. Feminist Theory | Jordan’s poem is a powerful feminist declaration against patriarchal oppression that denies women control over their bodies and freedom. She exposes how societal structures turn female existence into guilt and vulnerability. The lines “I can’t do what I want to do with my own body because I am the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin” highlight gendered restriction and bodily surveillance. Her concluding defiance—“This poem is not consent… I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name”—reclaims identity, self-ownership, and autonomy. The poem thus becomes a manifesto of bodily sovereignty and female empowerment. |
| 2. Postcolonial Theory | Jordan merges the violence against women with colonial domination, portraying both as acts of forced penetration. Through the metaphor “South Africa penetrating into Namibia… Angola… Zimbabwe,” she equates sexual violation with political conquest. The line “We are the wrong people of the wrong skin on the wrong continent” universalizes racial oppression and links it to historical colonization. Her critique of Western imperialism and American hypocrisy transforms the personal narrative of rape into a broader indictment of global racial injustice, showing how gender and race intersect under postcolonial power. |
| 3. Marxist Theory | The poem denounces capitalist and imperial systems that objectify and exploit marginalized identities. Jordan mocks institutional power by listing agents of control—“I am very familiar with the problems of the C.I.A., South Africa, and Exxon Corporation.” These institutions symbolize economic and ideological domination. Her realization—“the problems turn out to be me”—reveals how the oppressed become scapegoats within capitalist hierarchies. Jordan’s poem exposes economic inequality and the commodification of human bodies, aligning her resistance with class and racial liberation. |
| 4. Psychoanalytic Theory | Jordan explores psychological trauma and internalized oppression inherited from her parents and society. Her father’s and mother’s remarks—“my father saying I was wrong… my mother pleading plastic surgery for my nose”—reflect racialized beauty standards and gender expectations. The repetition of “wrong” symbolizes deep-seated self-alienation and repression. Through confession and rebellion, Jordan transforms her unconscious pain into conscious defiance, healing through self-naming and affirmation. The poem thus functions as a cathartic act of reclaiming the self from the trauma of societal judgment. |
Critical Questions about “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
1. How does “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan challenge patriarchal control over women’s bodies?
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan fiercely denounces patriarchal structures that define, regulate, and criminalize women’s bodily autonomy. Jordan confronts the everyday fear women endure, declaring, “I can’t do what I want to do with my own body because I am the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin.” This repetition of “wrong” exposes how identity becomes a weapon of control in a male-dominated world. By invoking daily acts like changing her “clothes” or “body posture,” she reveals the deep psychological and physical surveillance women internalize. The poem’s closing assertion, “This poem is not consent… I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name,” transforms her victimization into defiance, rejecting both the imposed guilt and the patriarchal right to define her. Through this personal yet political reclamation, Jordan transforms her poetry into an act of feminist resistance and liberation.
2. In what ways does “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan connect personal violation with political oppression?
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan merges the intimate trauma of sexual violence with the collective experience of political colonization. When she writes, “Which is exactly like South Africa penetrating into Namibia… and if after Angola and after Zimbabwe,” Jordan extends her own bodily violation into a metaphor for imperial aggression. The act of “penetration” signifies both sexual assault and colonial conquest—each a violation of autonomy. Her question, “how do you know if Pretoria ejaculates,” uses shocking imagery to expose how global politics mirrors personal violence, both justified through power. By linking her body to colonized nations, Jordan universalizes oppression, arguing that domination—whether sexual, racial, or political—stems from the same patriarchal desire to possess and control. Her poem thus becomes a revolutionary fusion of the personal and the political, asserting that freedom for women and freedom for nations are inseparable.
3. How does “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan represent the intersection of race, gender, and identity?
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan explores the layered oppression of being a Black woman whose identity is doubly marginalized by race and gender. The recurring phrase “wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin” powerfully encapsulates this intersectional struggle. Jordan’s use of “wrong” functions as both accusation and irony—it reflects society’s distorted standards while reclaiming her right to self-definition. The poet extends her critique beyond gender to racial and cultural alienation: “We are the wrong people of the wrong skin on the wrong continent.” Through this, she aligns her personal experience with global Black identity, confronting historical erasure and systemic racism. By the poem’s end, her declaration “My name is my own my own my own” becomes a radical assertion of identity, signaling her refusal to be defined by oppressive categories. Jordan thus articulates an early and powerful expression of intersectional feminism.
4. What role does resistance play in “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan?
“Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan transforms resistance from a political act into a personal necessity. After detailing the multiple layers of violence—societal, familial, and institutional—she concludes with an uncompromising assertion of rebellion: “Let this be unmistakable, this poem is not consent.” This line becomes both manifesto and warning, establishing the poem as a site of defiance rather than victimhood. Her phrase “from now on my resistance, my simple and daily and nightly self-determination may very well cost you your life” elevates self-defense and autonomy to acts of revolution. Resistance, for Jordan, is not optional—it is survival. It is through her words, her refusal to be silenced, that she reclaims power. The poem’s rhythm, repetition, and rage embody the energy of protest, turning personal pain into collective empowerment and transforming poetry into a weapon of justice.
Literary Works Similar to “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
- “Still I Rise” by Maya Angelou
Both poems celebrate female resilience and defiance against oppression, using repetition and self-affirmation to transform pain into empowerment and to challenge racial and gender subjugation. - “The Woman Thing” by Audre Lorde
Both poems explore the strength and vulnerability of womanhood within patriarchal societies, showing how survival itself becomes a form of rebellion against structures of domination. - “Power” by Audre Lorde
Both poems confront systemic injustice by linking personal trauma to political violence, revealing how institutional power sustains racial and gender oppression. - “Phenomenal Woman” by Maya Angelou
Both poems assert pride in one’s body and identity, rejecting imposed standards of beauty and celebrating self-ownership as an act of liberation. - “Rape” by Adrienne Rich
Both poems expose sexual violence and the complicity of legal and social systems, transforming the female voice into a tool of truth-telling, resistance, and justice.
Representative Quotations of “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
| Quotation from the Poem | Context and Explanation | Theoretical Perspective |
| “I can’t do what I want to do with my own body because I am the wrong sex the wrong age the wrong skin.” | Jordan laments how society criminalizes her freedom to exist independently as a woman of color. This opening captures how gender, race, and age intersect to produce oppression. | Feminist & Intersectional Theory – Exposes structural control over women’s bodies and identity. |
| “Alone not being the point / the point being that I can’t do what I want.” | The poet rejects the idea that women’s solitude is unsafe by nature; instead, it is the social system that denies them freedom. | Feminist Theory – Challenges patriarchal social norms restricting female autonomy. |
| “And in France they say if the guy penetrates but does not ejaculate then he did not rape me.” | Jordan mocks patriarchal legal absurdities that invalidate women’s suffering. The shocking irony reveals the dehumanizing logic of rape culture. | Feminist Legal Critique – Exposes male-centered law and its disregard for female pain and consent. |
| “Which is exactly like South Africa penetrating into Namibia.” | She links sexual violence with colonial domination, transforming personal trauma into political metaphor. | Postcolonial Theory – Parallels between bodily and territorial invasion critique imperialism. |
| “We are the wrong people of the wrong skin on the wrong continent.” | Jordan universalizes the experience of racial injustice, pointing to systemic global racism and the historical legacy of colonization. | Postcolonial Theory – Highlights racial othering and historical oppression of Black identity. |
| “I am very familiar with the problems of the C.I.A. and the problems of Exxon Corporation.” | By naming global power institutions, she exposes how capitalism, imperialism, and state violence shape inequality. | Marxist Theory – Critique of capitalist and institutional exploitation of marginalized people. |
| “The problems turn out to be me.” | The speaker recognizes that oppressed individuals are blamed for systemic problems, revealing the psychological burden of marginalization. | Marxist & Psychoanalytic Theory – Shows internalized guilt and ideological manipulation. |
| “My father saying I was wrong saying that I should have been a boy.” | Jordan recalls parental disappointment shaped by patriarchal and racial expectations, showing how oppression begins within the home. | Psychoanalytic Feminism – Reveals internalized sexism and family-induced identity repression. |
| “I am the history of rape.” | A declarative transformation of personal trauma into a collective history of oppression; her body becomes the archive of resistance. | Feminist & Historical Theory – Reclaims voice for all women silenced by patriarchal violence. |
| “This poem is not consent… I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name.” | The poem ends with a bold reclamation of selfhood and resistance. Jordan denies patriarchal power to define her and asserts identity through speech. | Feminist & Resistance Theory – Language becomes an act of rebellion and self-liberation. |
Suggested Readings: “Poem about My Rights” by June Jordan
Books
- Jordan, June. Directed by Desire: The Collected Poems of June Jordan. Edited by Jan Heller Levi and Sara Miles, Copper Canyon Press, 2005.
- Pratt, Minnie Bruce. Crime Against Nature. Firebrand Books, 1990.
Academic Articles
- MacPhail, Scott. “June Jordan and the New Black Intellectuals.” African American Review, vol. 33, no. 1, 1999, pp. 57–71. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2901301. Accessed 17 Oct. 2025.
- Erickson, Peter. “The Love Poetry of June Jordan.” Callaloo, no. 26, 1986, pp. 221–34. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/2931089. Accessed 17 Oct. 2025.
Websites
- Academy of American Poets. “June Jordan.” Poets.org, poets.org/poet/june-jordan.