Early discussions of nommo centered around its use as a theatrical or dramatic device associated with the “stage, screen, and TV” (Harrison, 1972, p. 121). Harrison contends that survival for African people from the Atlantic crossing to enslavement was manifest by a “the spirit holding its own [by] generating a singular breath of force, Nommo force... urging the body to retain... its life force... by means of a unified cadence” (xiii). This rhythmic cadence or “grunts and groans assuming the choral configuration of a song” (xiii), became a “testament around which the essence, Nommo, coalesced with the spirit, thereby initiating the index from which all black experiences would necessarily emanate in the future” (xiii). It is the “power of the word, that Nommo force which manipulates all forms of raw life and conjures images that not only represent [their] biological place in Time and Space, but [their] spiritual existence as well” (xiv). This association with the creative arts is revealed in literary and cultural scholarship—especially that relating to Afrocentricity (Gordon, 1991; Welsh-Asante, 1994; Handley, 1995; Asante, 1998; Conyers, Jr., 2003; Hudson-Weems, 2004), and only recently associated with rhetorical applications (Jackson II and Richardson, 2003). Even so, these brief references to nommo reveal its richness and usefulness as a rhetorical device, as the following sampling will attest.

            Gordon argues that through the words written on [art] works, Nommo “give[s] meaning to the works that they might not obtain if they were left alone with their formal visual constructs” (14). Welsh-Asante’s edited collection uses an Afrocentric cultural context to explore nommo. Ife (1994) references Paul Carter Harrison in acknowledging that “Nommo, or the power of the word,... activates all of the other forces from their frozen states of existence” (35). Her discussion of the aesthetics of Black theater examines similarities between the theater and African rituals. Richards’ (1994) inquiry about a Black national consciousness suggests that relating spirituality to political needs can be activated by Nommo, which she defines as “human will, intent and intelligence” (65). Stephens (1994) argues that “Nommo, the African concept which translates as the spiritual power of the word, is best exemplified through African American music and language” (198). His analysis of the films of Spike Lee reveal the influence of Nommo in language use, namely “call and response, playing the dozens and the use of ebonics” (198), which often “defies interpretation unless one is familiar with the mode” (201). Holmes (1994) argues that Nommo is “the life force, which produces all life, which influences ‘things’ in the shape of the word” (220), and “that one is able to see the transformed ‘power of Nommo’ at work in the African American community in both the spiritual and physical worlds” (224). Even so, from this focus on the orality of Nommo to bring “harmony, order and meaning to African communal life” (230), Holmes argues that Zora Neale Hurston’s work as an ethnographer and collector of Black folk tales led to a “transmutation and synthesis of Nommo” [in that t]he manifestation of the Word comes through Hurston’s powerful written literary expressions” (230, her emphasis). Handley and Hudson-Weems consider the naming power of nommo, which can “call things into being... restore and animate, make actual and real” (Handley, 677), while at the same time function as the “self-naming and self-defining [attributes which] are at the very core of authentic existence” (Hudson-Weems , xix) in order to empower the unnamed and undefined.

            These aesthetic applications are beginning to evolve into rhetorical explorations and use. Asante (1998) states that nommo is construed as the “generation and transformation of sounds [that] contribute to a speaker's power” (60), such as through altering the meaning of a word by changing the sound of a syllable. In discussing an African historical context for Black rhetoric, Asante argues that public speaking as an art “is always functional” (75), “becomes a collective experience” (78), and “must be directed toward maintaining community harmony” (79). From this viewpoint, the Black communication style discordant differences described by  are transformed as non-discordant constructs that reflect balance and harmony, self-actualization, and independence. Asante suggests this communication style is reflected in a rhetoric that emphasizes “the ascendancy of natural talent over technical skill, spontaneity over rules, and accidents over rigid forms” (80). I argue here that the three discordant Black communication style constructs of social interaction norms, truth creating processes, and signifying referred to in Corsini and Fogliasso’s study epitomize Asante’s ideal Black rhetoric. Thus, in order for technical writers to consider and engage a more diverse audience that includes a Black rhetorical perspective, they need to reconsider the how the communication style of GAE users differs from that of Black English users.

            Asante also notes that expression is maximized when the “word [nommo] is productive and imperative, calling forth and commanding” (81, emphasis his). He argues that a transformation in any social situation is accomplished when the speaker uses the expressive word “in an attempt to bring about harmonious relationships” (82). In order to conceptualize the wealth of Black orature and discourse, Asante offers a sociohistorical perspective of African orature which shares some common grounds with Black orature. As an example of the complexity of African thought, Asante states that in the Dogon culture, knowledge has “four stages” (106) which offer other perspectives from which to examine discourse. These stages are “1) the word at face value; 2) the word off to the side; 3) the word from behind; and 4) the clear word... [which] has eight levels” (106). I argue that in a similar manner, the shifting, transforming, and expressive word in Black communication style offers other perspectives from which to examine discourse. Thompson and Anderson (2003) examine the social context which pre-determined the rhetorical tools available to Frederick Douglass. The argue that Douglass used “Nommo... the power of the spoken word” 116) to effect changes in a racially-divided society. While they note he used rhetorical tools such as “simile and metaphor” (120), Douglass also relied on “signifying, narrative sequencing, and tonal semantices” (117) which are more often associated with the Black oral/rhetorical tradition.

             Jackson and Richardson’s edited collection on African American rhetoric extends the concept and rich usage of nommo. Karenga (2003) argues that “inherent in the concept of nommo are the triple aspects and elements of water, wind, and word, symbolizing, respectively, the life force (animation), life essence (spirit), and life creation (creativity)” (8). He posits that nommo reflects “the communal character of communicative practice and rhetoric [that] is engaged [in]... communal deliberation, discourse, and action oriented toward that which is good for the community and world” (10). Wright (2003) also contends that nommo is “an active force and companion to human activity, which gives life and efficacy to what it names or verbally affirms” (85). He argues that Black people “experience the world differently” (86), which leads them to know, think, and feel differently, “and, ultimately, to talk differently” (86). Thus, the use of rhetoric presents a “dynamic constructive force that frames and structures social reality” (97) as nommo “does its work in sacred space (our lives)” (97). Woodyard (2003) offers a discussion on rhetorical behaviors that utilize manifestations of nommo, including styling, improvisation, call and response, mythoforms, and repetition (140-1) as he examines a speech by Malcolm X. Most importantly, he argues that in order for human understanding to take place “meanings do not reside in our experiences alone” (153). Woodyard asserts that “nommo is the force that achieves the sharing of meanings we experience when we reach agreement and cognitive coordination” (153) and that this “immaterial essence [should become] a constitutive element of rhetorical studies” (153). In examining the closing argument of Johnnie Cochran, Walker (2003) considers similar rhetorical choices as Woodyard does, including rhythm, styling, narrative style, call and response and signifying (247). To contextualize the Black communicative style, she states that nommo “involves the generative power of the word to bring things, ideas, and concepts in[to] existence” (248). Here language is used in a unifying manner to discover how Cochran’s rhetorical choices combined with nommo “to create the life in the communication that establishes [his] desired outcome” (248). Walker argues that this examination reinforces calls for “culture-centered perspectives to uncover meaning, particularly in communication situations” (261). Thus, as a rhetorical device, nommo constitutes an avenue toward understanding another perspective on discourse, which can offer technical writers a tool to understanding an audience that use a Black communication style.