The Night Poetry Rocked the House.

• Author: SHAPIRO, RACHEL
• Position: San Francisco, California - Brief Article

We may not have won the national poetry slam--but that wasn't the point

We were brimming and overflowing with excitement. We had made it to the finals of the National Youth Poetry Slam in San Francisco, where more than 100 of the top teenage poets from across the country gathered to perform. It was 1 a.m., the last performance of the third and final round, and my team, representing New York City, was about to go on, ending the entire weekend of inspiring words.

Onome, Casey, and I planned to perform a group piece that the three of us had written about women. A girl thinks rich, thorough thoughts ... Why doesn't she speak up in class? We knew we would have points deducted because our piece was well over the three-minute limit. But it didn't matter. We had something to say. We had a message to leave with San Francisco.

ELOQUENT WORDS

The three of us walked out on the stage gazing at the chandeliers and the 1,200 faces who cheered, who came to hear the voices of the young poets of the country. We performed on a stage blessed with the eloquent words of skinny girls with proud, deep voices, 13-year-olds who roused the entire crowd, round women from Atlanta who sang amid their poetry; it was a stage ridden with confusion, rebirth, inspiration, talent, and pride.

Many words that night had shocked us with their brilliance. Now it was our turn. Does she learn to dismiss her anger when/he says he's sick of male-bashing poems/did she dump him when he bashed her?

We had an open stage, a free forum to share the plight of the young girl who doesn't speak up in class--who could never realize she was brilliant--to speak of the silencing and submission of women--Was she always this numb? Was she always this quiet?--the abuse, the sellouts, and the lack of respect--Did her tears fall like raindrops/outside a soundproof window?

The words poured out with emotion and house-rocking force. We traded solos like a jazz trio; we jammed in counterpoint, in unison, in rhythm. She was brilliant. Was she always this?

The second after we released the last word, the crowd was frozen, stunned. And then the room started to shake with energy--in an instant my coach was onstage, people whom I had never met were hugging me, someone came up to us crying, saying, "Thank you. As a woman, I knew that had to be said, and you all said it so beautifully."

ARENAS OF SUPPORT

I knew then that it was real, and that it was necessary to find creative ways to express yourself, so that...