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Cameron Conaway is perhaps not your typical poet. I caught up with Conaway recently to talk about his latest work Man Box – Poems.
When did you discover and start to explore your passion for poetry?
Two decades ago I began training to be a professional MMA fighter. I was inspired by the physics of hand-to-hand combat, how a subtle shift in the hips could turn the tide of an entire fight. At the time, Rickson Gracie and Bruce Lee were my role models. I didn’t know what poetry was, but the way they expressed themselves seemed to me to be a form of poetry.
Years later, when I was a student at Penn State Altoona needing to choose an elective, introduction to poetry stood out to me. I enrolled, mostly because I thought it would make me a better fighter — one capable of writing and thinking with the kind of depth I saw from Rickson and Bruce.
In the end, and thanks to my first poetry teacher, I fell in love with the craft. To me, poetry was as much about the practice of mindful living and the pursuit of new perspectives as it was about the actual writing.
My journey to continue practising has taken me all over the place, from the University of Arizona’s MFA Creative Writing program, and inside juvenile detention facilities, to science conferences in Thailand, and Zen retreat centres.
Where do you draw your inspiration from?
I enjoy investigating the role of small, often barely perceptible moments in the context of the larger mosaic. It’s similar to the way countless small movements in a fight lead to what we all see, for example, as the fight-ending counter-left-hook. I’ve come to believe that the worlds beyond the surface of what we experience are worth listening to and learning from.
Your latest work is Man Box. What can we expect from that?
With this work, in particular, I’m asking the reader to bring a beginner’s mind to the concepts of gender that in many ways govern our lives. A fundamental societal norm from the time we’re born is centred around organising people into two gendered boxes. It’s such a pervasive, normalised practice that we’re rarely able to see its consequences.
Thanks in large part to the way that the feminist movement has and continues to question and deconstruct these norms, men now have the opportunity to do something similar. It’s an opportunity that must be taken—the alternative is to remain in a non-contemplative state whereby many men follow the dangerous but relatively comfortable path of trying to embody and project a warped sense of masculinity.
Who is your target audience when you’re writing?
My poetry books are, in some ways, an attempt to expand poetry’s reach beyond those who have formally studied it. I suppose my baseline is to write for that generic general audience, those who may have been exposed to some Shakespeare in high school but who haven’t otherwise read it.
Poetry has always served as a form of on-the-ground activism. But too often much of today’s poetry, even if it’s written with an activist’s intent, can’t break free from its want to please those in the ivory tower. The best poetry, and I’m not sure I’ve ever written it, is capable of providing layers so that there are points of entry and reward for multiple audiences.
What sort of response have you had to your work?
It’s been a beautiful mixed bag.
Critics, especially those among the academic elite who hold the keys, have largely ignored my work. And I’ve had reviewers say things like — ‘These poems aren’t as good as they think they are.’
But, after many of my readings at universities, I’ve had students from seemingly every major wait in line for over an hour just for the sake of chatting with me about a particular book or poem.
Malaria, Poems, in some ways, has been an exception. It received praise from NPR and The Washington Post, was embraced by scientists and poets alike, and resonated with audiences who haven’t had direct experience with poetry or malaria.
Do you perform your poetry anywhere?
Shortly after a book is released I try to hit the university circuit. Universities are my favorite places to read because there’s often a culture of openness, a hunger to learn and ask questions. I always walk away feeling inspired.
Who are some of your poetry heroes or inspirations?
I’ve had so many over the years, but right now and to keep it brief here are the names that come to mind—Jane Hirshfield, Naomi Shihab Nye, Allen Ginsberg, Gary Snyder, and Thich Nhat Hanh.
What are some of the things that are currently getting you excited?
I’ve recently moved to San Francisco, so I’d say the progressive culture and my explorations of this area have been exciting me lately. Last weekend my wife and I camped at Big Sur, and this weekend we’re attending an ACLU conference. There’s so much to do and so much work that needs to be done.
What’s making you angry at the moment?
When I find myself angry at something I realise it’s because I feel that something I love is under attack. At the moment, some of the things that I love that feel as if they’re under attack include — in-depth fact-based journalism, the ideals of democracy, and a sense of our shared humanity.
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This post was originally published on Medium and is republished here with permission from the author.
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Cameron Conaway’s Man Box – Poems will be released April 23, 2018 by Connection Victory Publishing Company’s imprint Lasting Impact Press. Sign up HERE to receive an email about the book and related.
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Photo credit: Cameron Conaway