Pádraig Ó Tuama introduces us to the profound work of poet Jason Allen-Paisant, whose collection Thinking with Trees delves into the intricate relationship between place, identity, and the often-unacknowledged histories embedded within our surroundings. Ó Tuama recounts a pivotal piece of feedback he received early in his writing career: the importance of situating poems in specific locations, arguing that these locations are rich with “information and with delight, and also with pain and the history about what it’s been like to be in that place.” This sets the stage for an exploration of Allen-Paisant’s poem, “Right Now I’m Standing,” a piece that masterfully embodies this very idea. Through vivid imagery and poignant reflection, Allen-Paisant’s work compels us to consider not just our physical location, but also our historical, social, and emotional positioning in the world – prompting us to ask ourselves, in a deeper sense, Where Am I Right Now?
Unpacking “Right Now I’m Standing”: Setting the Scene
The poem opens with a seemingly simple act: standing beneath a tree. However, this is no ordinary tree; it’s “what used to be I imagine an impressive tree,” split and weathered, yet still sprouting life. This immediate juxtaposition of decay and renewal sets a powerful tone. The fallen part of the tree, described in muted tones of “brown weathered to near-grey,” is juxtaposed with the vibrant “green leaves” and the surge of life from “death.” This natural scene is not just observed; it’s experienced through multiple senses – sight, touch (dust from walkers’ footfall), and even sound (rustling leaves).
Allen-Paisant’s detailed observation of nature is striking. He notes the spikenard, the “hungry shrubs,” the raspberries feeding on decay, and beetles thriving in the rotting wood. This isn’t a romanticized view of nature, but a raw, honest depiction of the cycle of life and death, growth and decay. It’s in this intensely observed present moment, “Right now I’m standing,” that the poem begins to unfold its deeper layers.
Race, Observation, and the Right to Leisure
The poem takes a sharp turn with the lines, “Listen there is nothing as exhilarating as the feeling of life coming into you / Though people look suspiciously stand and listen do not go anywhere.” This shift introduces a crucial element: the experience of being observed, and observed with suspicion. Ó Tuama highlights Allen-Paisant’s experience as a Black man in England, walking in nature in an affluent area. This act, seemingly simple and universally enjoyed, becomes fraught with the weight of racial dynamics.
Allen-Paisant is “relearning what it means to be in nature” within a context where his Black body is constantly under a “predatory white gaze, a suspicious white gaze.” This gaze transforms a leisurely walk into a potentially charged encounter. The poem challenges the notion of nature as a neutral space, free from social and racial hierarchies. It brings to the forefront the reality that for some, particularly Black individuals, the simple act of existing in a natural setting can be interpreted through a lens of suspicion and otherness.
The reference to children learning to walk is particularly insightful. Allen-Paisant connects his own heightened awareness of his surroundings to the way a child is “hyper-aware of all the threats that are around them.” However, the threats are different. For a child, they are physical; for Allen-Paisant, they are social, racial, and historical. This juxtaposition underscores the non-innocence of simply “being” in a space when your body is historically and socially marked.
Historical Echoes: Colonialism and Ownership
The poem further deepens its exploration of place by explicitly invoking historical and colonial contexts. The lines, “we have been the workers / just the workers,” and “We have been property,” directly reference Lucille Clifton’s assertion that race is always present in nature poems. The very word “plantation,” embedded in the natural landscape, echoes the history of forced labor and land ownership rooted in racial hierarchy.
The poem broadens its geographical scope, referencing “the Congo” and “one man had a land almost eighty times the size of Belgium as his estate.” This is a clear allusion to King Leopold II of Belgium and the brutal colonial exploitation of the Congo. By not naming him “king” but simply “one man,” Allen-Paisant subtly subverts the power dynamic, asserting a form of equality denied by colonial history.
Ó Tuama connects this to the textile industry of Leeds, where Allen-Paisant now lives, and its historical reliance on resources from Caribbean plantations. This draws a direct line between the seemingly peaceful English landscape and the history of transatlantic slavery and colonial exploitation. The poem, therefore, is not just about “where am I right now” in a personal sense, but also “where is this place situated” within a global history of power, race, and ownership. The “wood” of the fallen tree becomes a potent symbol, reminding us that even natural resources are implicated in histories of exploitation – the very boats that crossed the Atlantic, carrying enslaved people, were built from wood.
Freedom and Space in Form and Theme
The poem’s form itself mirrors its themes of freedom and reclaiming space. Ó Tuama points out the “unexpected spaces between some of the words,” such as “imagine impressive tree” and “Listen there is nothing as exhilarating.” These spaces are not accidental; they are deliberate choices that allow the poem to “stretch out,” to “be languorous,” to “take up whatever space I want, without asking permission.”
This deliberate use of space in the poem’s structure is a powerful assertion of agency and freedom. Just as Allen-Paisant claims the right to stand still and do “nothing, nothing” in the physical landscape, the poem itself claims its own space, defying conventional poetic forms and rhythms. This formal choice reinforces the poem’s central message: the act of claiming space, both physically and metaphorically, is an act of resistance and self-assertion, particularly for those historically denied such freedom.
An Invitation to Observe and Reclaim
Ultimately, “Right Now I’m Standing” is an invitation. It’s an invitation to observe nature with a deeper awareness, to notice not just the beauty and cycle of life, but also the historical and social layers embedded within it. It’s an invitation to confront our own potential biases and prejudices – to “watch our racism, prejudice, and the ways within which… we might be likely to police who we think should be there in nature.”
For those who have been historically excluded from or made to feel unwelcome in natural spaces, the poem offers an invitation to “dismantle ideas of ownership and participate in a kind of doing nothing in public.” It’s a call to reclaim leisure, not as a privilege, but as a right, a “joy and an entitlement for all.”
In conclusion, Jason Allen-Paisant’s “Right Now I’m Standing” is a powerful meditation on place, race, and the right to exist and simply be in nature. It moves beyond a simple description of a natural scene to explore the complex intersections of personal experience, historical context, and social dynamics. By prompting us to consider where am I right now in relation to these broader forces, the poem encourages a deeper understanding of ourselves and our place in the world, challenging us to see nature not as a neutral backdrop, but as a space imbued with history, power, and the ongoing struggle for equality and freedom.
