580 Hughes, Langston
racial prejudice and their systematic exclusion from
the American dream. In “Negro Speaks of Rivers”
(1920), Hughes transcends the burdens of slavery
and racism, harkening back to a time when his
ancestors lived in Africa and were free to bathe “in
the Euphrates when dawns were young . . . build[ing
their] huts near the Congo . . . [and] look[ing] upon
the Nile and the raised pyramids above it” (5–7).
While in the United States, the so-called “land of
opportunities,” they are oppressed and enslaved,
back home in Africa they, and not whites, are the
masters, possessing ultimate knowledge about their
land and its history: “I’ve known rivers ancient as
the world and older than the flow of human blood
in human rivers . . . My soul has grown deep like the
rivers” (11–13). However, despite the physical and
spiritual enslavement of blacks in America, Hughes
optimistically believes that the freedom his people
experienced in the “old world” of Africa can be
recreated in the “new world” of the United States: “I
heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lin-
coln went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its
muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset” (8–10).
Hughes also uses land as a metaphor for free-
dom in “Freedom’s Plow” (1943). In this poem,
Hughes asserts that freedom can be derived from
working the land, even though the United States—
or the “land of the free”—was established on the
enforced labor of slaves. Regardless of the fact
that African Americans have been systematically
deceived by the freedom calls of leaders such as
Jefferson, Lincoln, and John Brown, Hughes still
maintains that freedom can be achieved through
an unwavering belief in the American dream of
“life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness”: “Keep
your hand on the plow! Hold on! If the house is
not yet finished . . . Don’t be discouraged, builder!”
(160–162). As Hughes conveys, “the plan and pat-
tern” of unity, freedom, and democracy are “here”;
the seeds of these institutions merely need some
nurturing (165). In his poem “Democracy” (1949),
Hughes also compares freedom to a seed that needs
to be planted and carefully cultivated. However, in
this poem, Hughes is more pro-active in his mes-
sage to African Americans: “Democracy will not
come . . . Through compromise and fear” (1, 4). No
longer willing to “let things take their course” (11),
Hughes urges his fellow citizens (especially people
of color) to end their passivity and “stand on [their
own] two feet and own the land” (7–9).
In “Children’s Rhymes” (1921), Hughes reveals
his thoughts on race and the limits of freedom.
While white children can aspire to be president,
Hughes claims that this is not an attainable goal for
black children. Moreover, “liberty and justice for all”
are merely “lies written down for white folks” (11, 12,
14). In reality, “we know everybody ain’t free” (9–10).
Hughes reiterates this pessimism in “Justice” (1923)
when he admits that although African Americans
have, for decades, been promised freedom, equality
under the law, and democracy, they know that Lady
Justice is not “a blind goddess” (1). Once upon a
time, she did have eyes to see the injustices inflicted
upon the disenfranchised; however, after centuries
of abuse, all that remains under “her bandages [are]. . . two festering sores . . . that once perhaps were
eyes” (3–4).
Like “Cross” (1959), “Advertisement for the
Waldorf-Astoria” (1931) links freedom to race and
class. In this case, the freedom to dine at the expen-
sive Waldorf-Astoria Hotel is a “right” bestowed
only upon wealthy whites who “got rich” from the
labor of the working class (33). While the poor “clip
coupons,” the rich are “draw[ing] dividends and
liv[ing] easy” (34, 36–37). The closest the unem-
ployed will ever get to living this lifestyle is walking
by the hotel and stealing a glance inside. After all,
looking is free and “democratic,” and impoverished
people of color—i.e., those most severely impacted
by the Great Depression (the time period in which
this poem was written)—can not afford much more
than that anyway: “Walk through Peacock Alley
tonight before dinner, and get warm . . . You’ve got
nothing else to do” (40–41). “Dinner Guest: Me”
(1951) also uses the metaphor of food to express
the connection between race, class, and freedom.
This poem narrates the tale of a “token negro” who
somehow finds his way into an all-white, elite din-
ner party. A spectacle on display, he is “wined and
dined” by his hosts who attempt to assuage their
white guilt by being “kind” to an African American
(3). However, as Hughes conveys, while being a
“problem on Park Avenue at eight . . . is not so bad”
(19–21), when the party is over and the hosts return