You ever find yourself wondering whether you have the wherewithal to take that leap and plunge into a new field of study, a completely different job, or move to another state when doing so is fraught with uncertainty?
Earlier this month, I was invited to participate in a Reading and Zine Fest sponsored by San Diego Writers Ink (SDWI). The festival took place at the Valencia Park/Malcolm X Branch of the San Diego Public Library. The impetus that moved me to participate was that the invitation came from a friend who organized the event. I was told I could read anything I wished as long as I provided trigger warnings where appropriate.
I was unaware of the makeup of the audience that would be in attendance, which left me reluctant to read my work because it often centers on "dark" themes. After agreeing to be part of the lineup, however, I developed a plan to mitigate that reluctance. My strategy was to size up the tone of the material presented before mine, as well as the disposition of the audience, before deciding on which of my selections to read. But my plan went out the window when I learned I'd been selected to read first.
As I considered which of my pieces to read, I realized that my penchant for gut-wrenching subject matter partly stems from a disturbing discovery I made about five years ago while researching my lineage. A "reward" notice posted in North Carolina's Wilmington Advertiser, December 12, 1837 popped up in my fledgling family tree. The advertisement included a monetary award for the return of a woman who'd fled her plantation along with her husband. The woman turned out to be my third great-grandmother.
Seeing that distressing advertisement in black-and-white hit me pretty hard, more so when I considered what my great-grandmother likely endured during bondage. I found an outlet for my angst by reimagining her atrocities in essays, short stories, and poetry.
While I was concerned about how the topics of enslavement, physical violence, and a reference to sexual assault would go over with the audience, in recognition of Black History Month, I read a poem ("Gatsey's Blues") written to capture the essence of being on the run. I also read a contemporary piece titled "Woke is a Four-Letter Word."
At the festival's conclusion, a few folks commented that they thoroughly enjoyed hearing my poetry. Some stated they were impressed with my delivery and had presumed I was a seasoned speaker. I was flattered; however, the icing on the cake came when our last speaker, Judy Reeves, cofounder of SDWI who regularly teaches for its programming (and from whom I took a memoir class a couple of years back), approached me and complimented my judicious and "powerful" use of words. She'd also assumed I'd been reading my poetry aloud for quite some time, adding, "Each word had so much meaning."
Back home, as I perused my calendar, I noticed that Judy was slated to be the keynote speaker at an upcoming monthly gathering of writers I periodically attend. Then, a few hours later, a different writing instructor from whom I take a weekly online course sent me an email to ask if I'd participate in a poetry reading for the school's upcoming Emeritus Benefit Concert Extravaganza.
My instructor's words: "Given the amazing accomplishments you've had with your writing, I think it would be wonderful for you to represent our talented peers and bring some meaningful poetry to the stage."
Talk about serendipity!
But I asked myself how on earth I ended up in this space where I'm being asked to read my poetry before audiences? If you'd asked me five years ago whether I envisioned becoming a spoken word artist, I would have responded with an emphatic "No way!"
The truth is, I've grown more comfortable with being on stage each time I go up to a podium, more so than I ever imagined and notwithstanding the provocative tone of my material. To be sure, my prior enrollment in Toastmaster's International has helped to diminish my performance anxiety. But I have a ways to go with respect to the "performance" aspect of being a spoken word artist.
I am proof that tapping into your inner self and exploring what you're made of can lead to opportunities you might otherwise be reluctant to embrace. So, if you think you might be interested in trying something radically different than your status quo, why not go for it!