When I think of all the untold stories stagnating in the suburbs of Southern California, where I attended high school — in Santa Ana and Garden Grove — it saddens me that popular TV Shows like “The O.C.” and the “The Real Housewives of Orange County” have overshadowed the true face and voice of such a diverse place. I wonder what a strong spoken word community can achieve there, what stories it would bring to life and what cultural pride it would instill.
One of my first encounters with spoken word was a video of a poem by Jasmine Mans at the 2008 Urban Word Slam Finals. By the time I could find the words to describe my reaction to that performance, the only words I could use were “raw” and “powerful.” I knew this was something I had to be personally involved in. To be able to inspire someone in this way, to create a visceral, visual world using mere words — that is powerful. And that is the least of what spoken word achieves in the three minutes or so it takes a poet to perform.
Imagine a magical community where poetry is actually cool, where people express themselves through words, and do it well, and tell “untold stories” as CalSLAM poet Natasha Huey puts it. Narratives that make you gain a greater understanding of just how complex this human life is, and how connected we are through countless similarities in our intricate life reel — not to mention stories that entertain. That is exactly what I found within the spoken word community on campus.
CalSLAM, the university’s spoken word team that competed nationally this past year at the College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational, has managed to grow by providing a space for writers to expand their creativity, be it in the form of an open mic, a slam (competitive spoken word) or a writing workshop.
That is spoken word to you: a group of people coming together to share their truths, using rhythm, using body language, using an ancient oral tradition and sharing it in the most original way they know how. These “identity stories,” as CalSLAM poet Gabriel Cortez referred to them, combine to form one of the most sincere multicultural platforms I have participated in on campus.
At such a diverse place as UC Berkeley, where each ethnic or religious group has its own organization, there’s little chance for integration other than through collaboration. Yet the spoken word community has managed to synthesize that multiculturalism, giving voice to stories that were previously either too controversial or too personal to be shared in public spaces. As CalSLAM poet and recent alumna Isabella Borgeson put it, this scene allows individuals to “write their own narratives in a society where their voices are often marginalized or completely absent.”
What’s unique to spoken word is its ability to empower the audience, to “take the poetry back to the people” so to speak. Listeners can voice their affirmation by snapping hooting, and even stomping their feet when they’re feeling the words. In this way, a performance is not only a performance but a conversation between the poet and the audience.
That’s not to say that spoken word is perfect. As a microcosm of a bigger world, the spoken word community reflects some of the biases observable on a grander scale. Like with hip hop or academic papers, there are certain voices that gain wider approval than others. That’s referred to as “the slam voice” — those particular vocal intonations signaling when a line is important, humorous or tragic, as CalSLAM poet Ariana Weckstein describes. On one hand, the voice manipulates the audience in the same way word choice manipulates the reader. On the other hand, the “slam voice” is extremely formulaic, and it can discourage poets from sharing their work because they don’t believe it’s quite “spoken word.”
Yet the campus spoken word community has done its best to counter this misconception. This is evident from the successful work of poets like Weckstein as well as Noor Al-Samarrai and Brandon Young, also CalSLAM poets, whose slam voice ranges from rapid and whimsical to paced and aloof — neither of which is standard “slam voice.”
“People take risks, shed heavy layers off themselves, hands or voice shaking and all, present and transparently sharing their truths, their reality,” explained UC Berkeley student Paula Kahn when asked about her involvement in spoken word. “We are able to learn so much from each other in these sacred healing spaces where our potential for understanding and changing our behaviors are activated.”
When I think of spoken word, I think of how lucky we are that we can boast such an empowering forum for cross-cultural engagement through art. If the same could exist in Orange County, perhaps the world could know of the overshadowed places there as well — of Centennial Park and the Santa Ana River bed, of the pho restaurants in every neighborhood and the boba on every block, and just how big of a deal a 7-Eleven slurpee is. These and a thousand other untold stories people can claim as their own.
Amy Mostafa writes a Thursday column on cultural issues. Contact Amy Mostafa at [email protected].