On a cold January morning in 2021, with the U.S. Capitol still bearing the psychic bruises of an insurrection just two weeks prior, a 22-year-old poet in a bright yellow coat stepped to the podium and did something rare: she made millions of Americans stop scrolling.
Amanda Gorman’s inaugural poem, The Hill We Climb, (full transcript here) was not just a ceremonial flourish between speeches and oaths. It became the emotional thesis of Joe Biden’s inauguration with equal parts reckoning, balm, and challenge. It was delivered with the cadence of spoken word and the clarity of someone who understood exactly what the moment demanded.
Here’s what I think about the poem’s meaning, as well as what Amanda is doing now.
A Poem Written for a Wounded Moment
Context matters here. The Hill We Climb was written in the shadow of January 6, when rioters stormed the Capitol and shattered the illusion of democratic stability. Gorman revised the poem after that attack, and you can feel it in the lines that refuse denial:
“For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it.
If only we’re brave enough to be it.”
This is not naïve optimism. It’s conditional hope. The poem acknowledges fracture with lines like, “we’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it,” but it rejects the idea that division is destiny.
The “hill” of the title is both literal and metaphorical: Capitol Hill, yes, but also the long, exhausting climb toward a more inclusive democracy. Gorman doesn’t pretend the climb is over. She insists we’re mid-ascent, lungs burning, legs shaking, still moving.
Language That Refuses to Talk Down
What made the poem resonate wasn’t just timing; it was accessibility without simplicity. Gorman’s language is rhythmic but precise, elevated but not aloof. She uses biblical echoes, constitutional ideals, and contemporary urgency without sounding like a lecture.
There’s a line early on that quietly dismantles cynicism:
“We are not broken, but simply unfinished.”
That sentence alone launched a thousand Instagram captions—and for good reason. It reframes national failure as a work in progress rather than a permanent condition. In a political culture addicted to absolutes, Gorman offered a radical middle ground: accountability without despair.

“To compose a country committed
To all cultures, colors, characters,
And conditions of man.
And so we lift our gazes not
To what stands between us,
But what stands before us.
We close the divide,
Because we know to put
Our future first, we must first
Put our differences aside”
Her delivery mattered too. She performed the poem, not read it, with her hands slicing the air, eyes up, voice rising and falling like a conductor guiding an orchestra that included all of us. This was poetry as public address, not literary parlor trick.
The Immediate Reaction: A Cultural Spark
The initial reaction was swift and unusually bipartisan; for about five minutes, anyway. Social media lit up with praise. Teachers assigned the poem the same week. Bookstores reported a surge in demand for Gorman’s forthcoming collections before they were even released.
Critics who usually dismiss inaugural poetry as forgettable pageantry had to concede something different had happened. This wasn’t a poem politely applauded and quickly archived. It stuck. It circulated. It became shorthand for the idea that language still matters in public life.
Of course, backlash followed. Some commentators called the poem performative or overly earnest. Others bristled at the elevation of a young poet as a generational voice. But even criticism confirmed the poem’s impact. People weren’t ignoring it; they were arguing with it.
And in American civic culture, argument is a form of engagement.
Why The Hill We Climb Endures
Inaugural poems often age poorly, trapped in the optimism of the moment they were written for. What’s striking about The Hill We Climb is how deliberately it avoids false closure. Gorman doesn’t declare unity achieved. She frames unity as labor.
The poem also widened the aperture of who gets to speak at moments of national consequence. A young Black woman poet with a speech impediment—open about it, unapologetic about it—stood at the center of American power and claimed the microphone. That image alone carried symbolic weight the poem never needed to explain.
It suggested a country still capable of surprise.
What Is Amanda Gorman Doing Now?
Since the inauguration, Amanda Gorman has done what few poets manage: she’s remained visible without becoming a novelty.
She released The Hill We Climb and Other Poems and Call Us What We Carry, both of which debuted to strong sales and continued her exploration of democracy, memory, and collective responsibility. She’s appeared at major cultural events, including the Super Bowl and international forums, often using those platforms to advocate for literacy, civic engagement, and youth participation in politics.
Gorman has also expanded her role as a cultural figure; signing with a major modeling agency, collaborating with fashion brands, and founding a nonprofit focused on empowering young writers. The throughline remains the same: language as a tool for agency, not decoration.
Importantly, she hasn’t tried to replicate the inauguration moment. Instead, she’s widened her scope by writing essays, mentoring emerging voices, and insisting that poetry belongs not just on stages, but in classrooms, communities, and movements.
The Hill We Climb may have introduced Amanda Gorman to the world, but it didn’t confine her to it. If anything, it marked the beginning of a longer climb, but it’s one she seems intent on making with others, not above them.
If you have thoughts about Amanda Gorman’s poem, drop us a line below!
