How Spoken Word Changed My Classroom

To put this story in the proper frame, let me begin by stating a few facts in a totally obnoxious way. I’m in a really good mood, ok? Hang with me through the alphabet list, and then it’ll get back to normal.

A) My students’ tenacity inspires me every day; however, as they are
B) high school students, most of them weren’t excited about starting our poetry unit.
C) I didn’t blame them. I was in high school not too long ago and I can remember
D) poetry being intimidating.
E) I couldn’t get into it.
F) It didn’t come to life.

F) So I brainstormed for weeks, trying to figure out how to get my kids to
G) recognize that poetry could be freeing and honest and powerful.

H) Then it came to me:
I) SPOKEN WORD.
J) (For those who don’t know what it is, I strongly suggest going to youtube

K) and taking a gander at the myriad videos available. It will change you.)

L) So I reached out to some people who I knew would point me in the best direction
M) of spoken word poets who spoke on topics my students would care about
N) (thanks, Ryan!
O) He’s my brother, for those wondering. Great guy.).
P)  Anyway, I researched and researched, watched and watched, and
Q) found myself mesmerized all over again. I’m talking all-nighters
R) pulled an average of three times a week because I couldn’t get enough.
S) I knew I was not ever going to think of poetry as lifeless again, and hoped
T) that after experiencing the incredible talent of spoken word poets,
U) my students wouldn’t either. I also knew there was a chance of it being a huge
V) flop, as maybe my students wouldn’t care about it as much as I hoped.
W) But I put together (with the help of Ryan) a compilation of various examples anyway.
X)  We watched Rudy Francisco, Joshua Bennett, George Watsky, Neil Hilborn, Sarah Kay and
Y) Phil Kaye, among many others. And guess what?
Z)  Something beautiful happened.

My students got excited about poetry.

Do you understand how great that is? It’s more than great. It’s phenomenal. It’s a different and better response to poetry than I’ve ever gotten before. The videos they saw introduced them to a method of communication and expression in a way I never would have been able to explain to them on my own.

My students understood the spoken word poets. They were moved by the vulnerability, found the hilarity in the self deprecation, were indignant about the social issues presented. They connected with the subject matter. They wanted to try their hands at it.

They found me in the hallways during passing periods to share recommendations on different slam poets they’d found on their own time. We swapped exclamations on how beautiful Rudy Francisco’s poems were, how passionately he delivered his messages in “Honest” and “Scars/Letters to the New Boyfriend.” They laughed with me about George Watsky’s clever use of every “S” word possible in his poem “S for Lisp,” and Taylor Mali’s spunk in “I’ll Fight You for the Library,” “Miracle Worker,” and  “Totally Like Whatever, You Know?” My students and I were deeply moved by Joshua Bennett’s “Tamara’s Opus,” Neil Hilborn’s “OCD,” Rafael Casal’s “ADD.” We discussed what it must feel like to present, to reveal the most raw version of yourself to an audience you don’t even know, or what it would be like to show those pieces of yourself to a room full of people who do know you (or at least think they do). Through the poems and poets we swapped back and forth, they were showing me what they cared about, and I got the chance to share in their interests.

I assigned a Spoken Word Project. We were going to have a poetry slam. The students had two weeks or so to come up with an original piece and present it in class. They had very few guidelines from me, save for the following:

            1. The subject matter needed to be something they cared about
            2. The presentation needed to take at least a full minute.

In the days that preceded our poetry slam, I’ll admit that in addition to student excitement and confidence I got a lot of anxious communication, too. “What if my poem sucks?”; “What if it isn’t as good as my classmates’?”, they worried.  “What if your expectations are too high and mine is nothing like any of the professionals we watched in class?”.  I gave a lot of encouragement. I knew some of them weren’t sold out on the idea, but gently pushed them to dig deep anyway, to explore themselves and figure out what they cared about. What made them feel. What pissed them off. What they loved. When they’ve been hurt. Why any of that matters.

The day came for the Spoken Word Poetry Slam and I have to tell you, I’ve never been more moved by student products. I was introduced to pieces of my students I had no idea even existed. They removed the veil they put on every day before facing school, their peers, their parents. They showed me what lay underneath the smiles they painted on, the courage they feigned, the confidence for which they overcompensated. Not only did they show me those things, they showed their classmates those things. They were brave in front of one another, revealed secrets to one another. The irony of it all is that, in admitting to pretending they were confident and courageous, they were proving both of those things by presenting their spoken word. And everyone acknowledged that. Even the poetry that wasn’t deeply personal was moving, in that it was clever, hilarious, and creative. Regardless of subject matter, tone, or presentation style, everyone got their chance to show who they were, and everyone was impressed by what their classmates brought to the table.

There was something a little bit magical about that day in class. Something happened that day that changed the way my class works. The way my students and I interact with each other. I can’t put my finger on a precise word to describe it, but there’s a tangible difference. We all feel it.