Good Things from Good Folk: KB Brookins
Good Things from Good Folk: KB Brookins
plus, a look into KB's new book, PRETTY
Good Things from Good Folk is a recommendation series of things artists in and around the American South are into and obsessed with. Curated by Good Folk contributors and podcast guests, the series offers a glimpse into what’s driving contemporary culture, both in the South and beyond. Find all the recommendations in the series here.
Last year I had the pleasure of connecting with KB Brookins, a writer, cultural worker, and artist from Texas. KB joined us on the podcast for a conversation on disaster and climate change, Texas’ role in our understanding of the modern South, the art of lurking, and how to find hope in the most difficult of times.
I see many of these themes reflected in KB’s newest book, Pretty, released from Alfred A. Knopf this past May. Pretty is part-memoir, part-poetry, and all heart. Chronicling KB’s experience growing up young, Black, and trans in Texas, the book hones in on themes of queerness, masculinity, and race alongside the challenges—and beauty—of navigating their intersections in the American South. In reflecting on Texas life, KB is honest and raw; this is not a book that shies away from the ugly parts of Southern culture. But rather than falling into despair, KB offers a hopeful vision for Texas, one that asks us to commit to believing in change, one that asks us to hold the places and people we love accountable to the promises they make—one that asks us to return again and again to what we know to be possible. One that asks us to stay.
In KB’s words (taken from Pretty, pg 46-47):
“What could my hometown, Texas, and the world look like if Black queer and trans people didn’t fear every day that we will perish? What if those fears, mandated by law and those who claim to be our god-fearing loved ones, didn’t exist? What god has told folk it’s okay, encouraged even, to treat other people so terribly? What god has told homophobes, transphobes, racists, and Bible-thumpers to limit centuries of love?
When will queer and trans people be seen as citizens in this place stolen from Mexico that we call Texas? Will many Texas politicians ever gain a conscience? Aren’t queer and trans people—people who simply have a different experience of gender/sexuality than our cishet counterparts—deserving of comfort, safety, and promise like everyone else? When will trans people be cleared of the long-standing lie that we are enemies of women and girls?
Through all of this terror, I’m 90 percent sure there will never be a Texas without me. A handful of people can make this state livable if they fell out of love with bigotry and greed. Though we are a long way from it, and a long way from queer and trans people feeling fully safe in any place in the U.S.A., it isn’t out of reach. I want the next generation of queer and trans kids to be celebrated, not made to feel abnormal. And they will be when we are honest about our problems, and artists, policymakers, cultural workers, and people in all cities work with us to solve it.
I would love to exist in this place, and be Black, queer, and trans without it being an issue. I’d love a Texas where I can go to the doctor, and pee, and play sports like every cishet does without the added layers of sorrow. I’d love to see my family, be close to my family, get apologies from my family; I’d love to live in a Stop 6 where I can say ‘there will never be a Texas without trans people’ and all the beautiful Black faces that populate the area, my area, believe me. How would my love—for other beings, for my hometown and state—be if we could truly be ‘out’?
These are the questions that keep me writing and chasing the past. Everything I am is of god.”
Beautiful. Regular readers of this newsletter will recognize these as common questions that we ask here: what possibilities exist for this place? What role can I play as an artist in helping us get there? Most of all, I find myself constantly asking what it means to commit to believing in a place, to staying even when it gets difficult. What I have found through writing this newsletter is that it is community that makes this work possible; it is through community that these visions of hope are strengthened, solidified, and brought to life. I too am writing and chasing the past, always looking backwards towards a life that could have happened, a life that did not happen, a life that might have been possible in other conditions. As an artist, I desire to reveal the possibility of those conditions—and I am honored to be in community with folks like KB in doing so.
KB’s writing has been featured in Poets.org, HuffPost, Teen Vogue, Poetry Society of America, Oxford American, and elsewhere. KB’s poetry chapbook How To Identify Yourself with a Wound won the Saguaro Poetry Prize, a Writer’s League of Texas Discovery Prize, and a Stonewall Honor Book Award. Their poetry collection Freedom House, described as “urgent and timely” by Vogue, won the American Library Association Barbara Gittings Literature Award and the Texas Institute of Letters Award for the Best First Book of Poetry. Freedom House was named a Best Book of 2023 by four publications. KB adapted Freedom House into a solo art exhibit, which debuted at Prizer Arts and Letters in April 2024. KB has earned fellowships and residencies from National Endowment of the Arts, Sewanee Writers Conference, Lambda Literary, Tin House, Civil Rights Corps, and elsewhere. Their poem “Good Grief” won the Academy of American Poets 2022 Treehouse Climate Action Poem Prize. KB starred in a short documentary titled “Earth To KB”, which screened at film festivals in London, Dallas, New York, and Seattle. Currently, KB is an MFA candidate at The University of Texas at Austin. Most recently, they successfully petitioned for the creation of the city of Austin’s adult poet laureate program.
When not writing, KB enjoys reading good books, throwing a lil sumn’ on the grill, and sending memes to their spouse. Follow KB online at @earthtokb, and subscribe to their sporadic opinions/updates through their newsletter, Out of This World.
Because KB is also (clearly) very cool, I asked them to share their recommendations with us. Here are some Good Things they’re into right now:
Megan Thee Stallion's new album, Megan!
If Megan Thee Stallion has 1 fan, it is me. If she has none, I have left this earth. There is no celebrity that I'm rooting for more than thee Houston hottie, thee Hot Girl Coach, thee inspiration for Texans and people with a dream worldwide! Love the Japenese/English hits ("Otaku Hot Girl" and "Mamushi") as well as the song featuring Texas legends, UGK ("Paper Together") especially. This is MTS' world; she is just letting us share it.
Kelsey L. Smoot's new chapbook, we was bois together!
It is not often at all that I encounter other Black transmasc poets, and it is even less often that said poets are sweeties who write stuff that is both exciting craft-wise and relatable AF. Smoot is a new talent that we should be watching.
Zoë Bossiere's new memoir, Cactus Country!
This book has gotten nothing but rave reviews and once you read it, you'll know why. Such a fierce depiction of gender fluidity in Arizona—two perspectives that I don't read enough. Bossiere has written what I like to call a hood certified classic.
the poetry collection "Occupy Whiteness" by Joaquin Zihutanejo!
My pressmate and the inaugural poet laureate of Dallas has done it again. With surgical syntax and cool AF form, Zihutanejo has encouraged all of us to write our conscience. That is so needed in these times where too many are choosing paper over principles.
the Scandal rewatch podcast, Unpacking The Toolbox!
Out of nowhere I decided to rewatch the Shondaland ABC hit show of the 2010's Scandal with my spouse a couple months ago, and, I must admit, I've been HOOKED. I've been traveling quite a bit to promote Pretty so there have been times where I just haven't had 45 minutes to dedicate to Olitz-land. In those moments, I turn to Unpacking The Toolbox, enthusiastically hosted by Guillermo Diaz and Katie Lowes; it's quite nice to hear stories of making this silly little legal drama that still holds up in the age of political turmoil.
the song "why my love?" on Aja Monet's poetry album, when the poems do what they do!
I just... love poetry albums; Monet's when the poems do what they do has been my go-to flight listen for the past month or so. Monet delivers the poems with the illustrious backdrops of neo-soul instrumentals as if we are at a coffee shop, listening to her wax poetic (pun intended) about life as a Black woman today. I love "why my love" because it makes me say "mmm" over and over again.
the song "Nasty Girl (remix)" by Tinashe & Chlöe!
Who's not obsessed with "Nasty Girl" rn? I enjoy when a remix is actually a remix -- not just some mess two randos have sent to each other via email. Chlöe (one of my fav breakout stars of the past few years) has breathed new life into a fan fav. I'm hoping that these two ascend into the acclaim they deserve side by side.
the show "fantasmas" by the singular writer/director, Julio Torres!
Simply put: I'd like to live in Torres' mind for just a few hours. After the critically acclaimed movie Problemista comes a quirky, weird show with queers and magic and Julio just "Julio"ing all over the place. I'm in love with the fact that people are paying him to make fantastical versions of his lore. #goals forreal.