"I thought, 'There has to be a place in the conversation about loving your skin colour. There has to be a narrative about how we are more than our trauma. We are more than the experiences that have been put on us.' So I started shifting my poetry into that." 

Peace Akintade is an African-Canadian poet, public speaker, actor, model and Saskatchewan's Youth Poet Laureate for 2020-21. She currently lives in Saskatoon. We talked to Peace about her background, style, jewellery, and themes of identity and love in her poetry. 

H&B: Love, self-love, race, and identity are consistent themes in your poetry. In poems like “Rainbow” you say “I am the pancake that was left on too long, but I’m the gingerbread cookie that came out just right.” Given that February is often associated with both love and Black history, can you talk about the importance of self-love and how it has influenced your perspective on race and identity? 

A lot of my poetry has to do with Black love and Black joy. When I first came to Canada (from Nigeria at age 12) it was hard for me to practice self-care and self-love because I was introduced to what racism could truly be for the first time. Coming to a new country and suddenly having this different perspective of your skin colour as a young impressionable teen—I spent a lot of years not wanting to be Black. Around 2018 (when I started getting really into poetry) I went to a poetry festival, and I saw so many Black poets and they were all talking about trauma, racism, and ways their skin colour has put them down. And as I sat there, I felt suffocated, it was alarming to have all these problems put on you by multiple people talking about it every single day. So I left that building and when I breathed in the fresh air I thought, “There has to be a place in the conversation about loving your skin colour. There has to be a narrative about how we are more than our trauma. We are more than the experiences that have been put on us.” So I started shifting my poetry into that. Yes, we need education and awareness about our history, but we’re also humans who experience joy. That’s when I started talking about Black joy and Black love. 

The reason I wrote that line is because it’s how I saw myself—as a pancake that was left on too long. Something not good enough to eat. But then I thought, “Gingerbread is the same colour, and everybody loves that colour. That’s the exact colour of gingerbread you want to eat." So that line really is all the years of me reshaping how I saw my skin colour.  

"Being able to personify my skin colour with the earth, it being the same colour, and it being loved, it’s a way for me to feel I can love myself." 

In another excerpt from Rainbow you say, “I was kissed by the sun before I was born and will return to earth to blend with nature. My body will begin a new cycle. My colour will always continue to be seen.” There is a loving, accepting, almost familial presence coming from nature in this passage. There’s also a kind of permanent reassurance in that “your colour will always continue to be seen.” Has a love for the natural world inspired your work?

Yes, definitely. I like to say my type of poetry is personification. The line “The sun kissed me” is an expression of how I like to think about nature. Nature is so forgiving, and it’s so much a part of us. It feels like a presence that will always be there. Whenever I feel I’m not grounded, I like to go outside in my bare feet and just stand there and be like, “Ok, the earth is still here. I am still here.” It grounds me. I spent a lot of time in nature back in Africa. We’d always go running in bare feet. We’d walk up hills, jump off trees, and that’s how we lived our life daily. When I stand on the ground outside now, it’s an expression of homesickness—missing feeling a part of earth—and yet I feel reassured because the earth will always be there for us. Being able to personify my skin colour with the earth, it being the same colour, and it being loved, it’s a way for me to feel I can love myself. That connection that we have—even with the trees, being the same colour—it makes me feel like there is a place in the world for us. We all love to identify with a colour that makes us feel good. That’s the kind of thing that I think of whenever I put nature into my work. Being grateful for it and putting it into my work so it’s a part of me permanently.   

Do you feel a similar kind of love, reassurance, and inspiration coming from your family? Or your ancestors? And if so, what ways do you reconnect with them?

It’s been a strange journey with my family. I can talk about my ancestors. All of the stories we are told when we’re young are about bringing honour and respect to our ancestors. We’re part of a lineage. This is one of my favourite quotes: “We are standing on the shoulders of giants.” That’s something they told kids straight from birth in our village. In our culture, names are so important because the grandparents and great grandparents pick the names too. When I go back home everyone has a different name for me because they want me to be a part of their life too. That helps form a connection and a community that really looks out for you. That feeling of togetherness and similarity has really influenced my poetry. Sure our ancestors haven’t dealt with all the problems we have today, but history has a way of repeating itself so we can always find some kind of connection with them. And if we look back and think of ourselves as part of a lineage of strong, powerful people that gives me a sense of purpose. It’s sad to lay in bed and think “Why am I here?” When I think about that question, I think, “I’m here because my great, great, great grandpa decided he wanted a goat farm. That’s why I’m here. That gives me purpose and I want my great granddaughters to get that same sense of purpose when they think of me. 

My family is really about love and we have a strong bond because we have no other family here. Everyone else is back home in Nigeria so we just have each other. Sometimes we’ll just sit on the floor and have a picnic in our living room. We'll put blankets on the floor and food on the floor and we’ll just eat from the same plates because that’s the kind of bond we really want to preserve in our life. We have each other, we have our ancestors—it’s a way we can move forward with strength.  

“Looking back and thinking of ourselves as part of a lineage of strong, powerful people gives me a sense of purpose.”

“I’m not part of the colours of the rainbow, but goshdarnit both ends of the rainbow will always touch me.” This is another great piece of perspective. The earth that you align yourself with, where people might not be looking, is actually in closest contact with the rainbow. It’s almost connective tissue. Can you talk about what inspired this line?

That line was inspired by asking myself, “How do Black people see themselves?” A lot of people talk to me about lines in this poem, and they’ll say “I see myself as wood, or I see myself as the grass,” and that’s how they remain themselves. So for me, rainbows are a very important symbol—they mean peace, comfort, promise. When I hear people talk about themselves no one talks about themselves as colourful, or spontaneously flamboyant. They all have this grounded, down-to-earth way of thinking about their skin colour. And it made me think, we don’t think of ourselves as taking space. We’re always trying to be in the corners, out of sight, making space for other people. We don’t see ourselves as the rainbow—the most striking thing—so I thought how can I connect those two worlds? That’s when the line “both sides of the rainbow will always touch me” came to me. I hope it inspires other Black youths, children, and adults to see themselves as part of the rainbow because we are. They always talk about what’s at the end of the rainbow. Well...? [Laughs.] So that’s what inspired that line. 

The Black Lives Matter movement asked our society to confront racial inequality last summer. Obviously, we still have a long way to go, but have you (personally) noticed any signs of progress? Or lack thereof?

Honestly, I do feel like there has been progress. And I really like saying that because it’s been a very challenging journey being a Black artist in Saskatoon because there are not many other Black artists. Most people don’t proudly talk about themselves as artists, but for about five years now I’ve been able to proudly say “I am an artist, that’s who I am, deal with it.” And now other people have started coming up! The reason I started writing and performing is because someone took that step to say that there is a place for us, which is so great. But, it also leads to other issues. One thing I’ve dealt with a lot is tokenism. Lots of people will ask me to join stuff because they want to check a box for diversity. That’s why February is one of my busiest times. That’s when people will come to me. There have been a few companies who say that they want to change, they call me to perform, and then they put me all over their web page and Instagram and then that’s it. I feel like in order for us to go forward as a society it needs to not be about, "how many Black people can I put on my page?" Race should not be the first reason for wanting to know someone’s work. That’s why I really love this approach where you watched some of my poetry and you came with feedback and we were able to have a conversation about it. That’s progress. That’s beautiful progress. You came with the work and then we started talking about colour. That’s a good indicator of progress. 

Is there any jewellery that helps you feel empowered when you’re performing your poetry?

Mmhmm. Rings. I love rings. A bunch of rings like my whole hand is always filled with rings. They’re always the—I like to say—obnoxiously giant ones. It seems like it’s back on trend to have those small round gold ones, but I like going to vintage stores and getting those big pearls. When I’m wearing rings it makes me feel like I’ve got a glove of armour on and my hands are just full of jewellery. 

That’s gotta feel cool when you’re holding the mic too. 

Oh my gosh, yes! And the sound they make when they click together. I just love it.   

You’re also a model. Do you find fashion and modelling influence your poetry or vice versa? 

Yeah. I actually just started modelling this year. It’s really about creating community and being able to relate to someone like the photographer or client. I don’t go to a shoot as a model. I go as a person that wants to talk to you and achieve a dream that you have, a vision that you have. That approach has influenced my poetry because it’s all about learning people’s experiences, and that inspires me to write more poetry about their lives, about their dreams, about their visions. I’ve found that when photographers and make-up artists are working they often talk about their lives and you get to see this ambitious, vivid, vision they have in their head. It’s nice to see it pour out of them. It’s nice to see that light in their eyes. I’m just like yeah! YEAH! There have been shoots where it’s supposed to be like an hour, but we ended up having two hours of just discussion, and at the end of it the photographer was like, “Oh my gosh, we were supposed to do something!” I’ve gained so many new friends this year from having this title of a model, which is such a strange relationship to have, but I think of it as just another opportunity to talk to people. 

"It’s all about learning people’s experiences, and that inspires me to write more poetry about their lives, about their dreams, about their visions." 

Can you talk about someone you don’t know who you love?

The poet laureate of Edmonton, Nisha Patel. I saw her in Toronto and she has the brightest, determined energy and vision for her life. The way she does storytelling and the way she brings community into everything she does is really inspiring. I was having like a fangirl moment. I was in front of her and I could talk to her but I didn’t. I just stood there and watched while she talked to someone else about organizing poetry festivals. Poetry festivals are where so many poets go to get inspired. I’ll go back to a high school in Saskatoon to perform, or speak to the students, and I’ll bump into a grade 8 student and they’ll be like, “I went to this poetry festival and now I think I want to be a poet.” And I’m like “Yes! Go for it!” 

"It’s all about learning people’s experiences, and that inspires me to write more poetry about their lives, about their dreams, about their visions." 

 Can you talk about a friend or family member you love?

I have this friend Micah. It was my birthday yesterday and I don’t really celebrate my birthday. I haven’t had a birthday party since I was like thirteen, and I just turned 19 yesterday and Micah rounded up friends and they came for a safe socially-distanced gathering in my driveway. And that kind of care, like she just loves to care. She called me one day and said, “I’m on Skip the Dishes and I’m just going to send you over a pizza.” That’s her love language. One of the things that is amazing about our friendship is that we first met when we were passing each other on the street. She complimented me on my performance in a rendition of Romeo and Juliet, and I told her she’d make a great Juliet. We just randomly complimented each other as strangers. And then, three months later, I was running an errand for one of my closest friends, and she sent me to her house, and Micah was there! And she was like, “Wait a minute. You’re the person from the street!” We coincidentally ended up in the same room together. It’s been a year since then but it really feels like the universe aligned. It’s the kind of friendship where you can care a lot and not worry about the other person getting weirded out.

What colour makes you feel empowered?

Gold. It just feels so in tune with itself. It knows that you want it, but it just stays back. It doesn’t reach out to you. It doesn’t demand your attention like a diamond. Gold is standing in a place and allowing the world to come to it. I love that energy and that self-confidence. That’s how I aspire to be.

Peace is looking forward to getting back to travelling and performing, but for now, she is doing poetry readings online. If you'd like to see one of these readings (or want updates on what Peace is up to) follow her @s.ole.peace on Instagram for details.

"Gold is standing in a place and allowing the world to come to it. I love that energy and that self-confidence. That’s how I aspire to be."

 Writing: Carter Selinger 

Images: Molly Schikosky Photography