An Appalachian Voice Speaks for Ohio: A Conversation with Kari Gunter-Seymour

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• An Appalachian Voice Speaks for OhioA Conversation with Kari Gunter-Seymour
• Renee H. Shea

In June 2020, when Ohio governor Mike DeWine called Kari Gunter-Seymour to offer her the position of the state's poet laureate, she promised, "I'm going to be lifting up my people. I'm going to be lifting up Appalachia." She has done that and far more as the author of three poetry collections: A Place So Deep inside America It Can't Be Seen (2020), Serving (2020), and Alone in the House of My Heart (2022). Dirt Songs, her fourth collection, is forthcoming in 2024. A ninth-generation Appalachian, Gunter-Seymour was awarded the Academy of American Poets Poet Laureate Fellowship to edit and publish I Thought I Heard a Cardinal Sing (2022), the first anthology to focus exclusively on Ohio-based Appalachian teens and adults. She is also the founder and executive director of the Women of Appalachia Project, a literary, visual, and performing arts organization created to address discrimination against women in the Appalachian region. She holds a BFA in graphic design and an MA in photography from Ohio University.

renee h. shea:

What led you to apply for the position of poet laureate of Ohio?

kari gunter-seymour:

When that call came out just as I was finishing up my term as poet laureate of Athens County [Ohio], a whole lot of people got in touch with me. I hadn't planned to apply, but then when people who were close to me said, "Think about the work you could do," I realized that this is my chance to continue working with folks who are recovering from addiction—something that's near and dear to me. If I have that title by my name—Kari Gunter-Seymour, Ohio poet laureate—I thought it would carry some weight and open up doors.

Still, I certainly never thought I'd have a chance, because I am aware of the amazing talent in this state. But the laureate position to me is a position of service—and not everyone wants to serve. I was fortunate that [End Page 141] the governor was on board with my project, and his office has helped me to be able to actualize working with folks who are incarcerated, women in recovery, incarcerated teens, students all over our state in all kinds of situations.

So that's the essence of what led me to decide I wanted the possibilities. It wasn't about thinking I'll get to go all over and read my poetry. I don't mean to be briggity, but I was already doing that. I was lucky to have acquaintances all over the state, so I was traveling and doing a good bit of reading my poetry. But as poet laureate, I have been given the privilege of going into the prisons and schools—specific places where I feel I can really make some impact.

rhs:

Could you talk specifically about one of those doors that opened to you as poet laureate, one that is having an impact?

kgs:

Last January [2023] I went virtually to eighteen prisons all at one time. We met every Thursday morning for two and a half hours for the entire month. We would write for thirty-five to forty-five minutes and then go from prison to prison to prison with people sharing what they had written. It was amazing. Tim Buchanan, now the warden of Noble Correctional Institution, set this up, and a person at each prison volunteered to head up their program—which was additional work, but they did it.

rhs:

How many people were involved, and were they the same ones throughout the month?

kgs:

There were ten to fifteen people at each of the eighteen prisons, but not always the same ones. Remember, these are folks who are incarcerated, so if they slip they might not get to come that week. That's part of the process. It was a volunteer situation where participating was considered a privilege that you have to earn.

The first thing I always do is to tell them [the inmates] who I am, where I'm from, that...