On today, of all days, it suddenly occurred to me that spoken word poetry has linked its way to my life. I’m not a die-hard. Far from it. I love performing, but I’ve only done it a couple of times. Nothing to compete with the poets I know and admire.
To fully explain how this became such a part of my life, though, I have to backtrack to my sophomore year of high school. I was a part of a student poet group that was being trained by two happening poetesses that were deeply embedded in the spoken word world. 5 other girls and myself were being brought under their wings and taught how to roll in that world. It was a long process. It took a lot of dedication and determination. The end reward was that we all got to perform about two poems to a crowd at the local Loft Literary Center.
It was an amazing experience to listen to my fellow poetesses let the internal rhymes and boggled symbolism melt into a performance that touched people. It was even more amazing to get up and do my own poems. One of the pieces I chose to do was about the war in Iraq. I had worked long and hard on that piece. I had spent hours practicing it to make sure I put emphasis on all the right words. The second poem was really difficult for me to do. It was personal (though nothing as personal as I now write and freely show off to people). It took courage for me to do it.
To explain why this day, April 3rd, is an odd day for me to realize that spoken word is very important to me I’ll need another minute to explain 2 more things. One of my mentors during that student clinic has continued to be a huge moving force in my life. She is an inspiration and a supporter. I dearly adore her. She’s such a wonderful person. Today is her birthday. I realized this as I looked up the dates for the earliest spoken word show I could find at the Loft. It only seems fitting that I realize exactly what she has given me on her birthday.
You see I tend to close off emotionally when things get too tough. Tatiana (that’s her name) forced me out of my shell and taught me that I can only be who I am and feel how I feel. I can’t go around trying to please everyone else while making myself miserable. And she taught me that I can have confidence in myself.
The other thing about today is that my mother was supposed to go into surgery. It got postponed until next week. My mother has been in surgery 5 times before. She’s extremely worried about it this time. And I can’t help but feel her anxiousness. This enters into any of poetry of the last few weeks. Another thing I’ve realized about spoken word is that you don’t have to be a sturdy political front, bashing away at ignorance and annoyance that comes in the prejudiced forms of those who would hate you as an individual and a part of any racial group. Spoken word can be on a much more personal level. I’ve seen this done. I’ve cried watching some poets perform personal pieces because it struck a nerve within me.
And while I’m writing this done, I don’t know if I’m making any sense at all. I just know that I’m trying to get one point across. Spoken word has helped shape me into the person I am right now. And I know it has done this more many other people. I know it has done it for Tatiana. And I know it has done it for a few of my friends. It’s an art form that can be an extremely effective political tool, it can be emotional. It will always be beautiful and honest.
I apologize if this made no sense. :)
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