Language Lust

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This is the beginning. A very good place to start. I've been telling myself, daily, that I must learn to write.

"Every Artist was first an amateur"- Ralph Waldo Emerson...so here goes.

Today I became addicted to spoken word.

16 years old in the heart of New Orleans, just six months after Katrina, I had the opportunity to bear witness to someone baring her heart, soul, triumphs, and tribulations to a small room of strangers. We had stumbled upon a small bar off the beaten path. Away from the crowded clubs with 2o dollar drinks we found a space transformed not by laser lights and a thumping bass, but by the rhythm of a single woman's voice. I found her command of language tantalizing, her insight into the struggle of daily grind enlightening, and most of all her performance was captivating.

Now, nearing 22 I've been looking for a medium to tell the stories that I feel must be told. By trade I'm an educator, but no one likes to be lectured but those who already know. How do we get people to listen, not just with their heads but with their hearts. I can write essay after essay on the "The Domestication of Femininity and the Rise of the Middle Class," but who would read it? Here I am 5am on a Friday night...er Saturday morning not reading essays, but unable to sleep because I'm chewing through video after video of spoken word. Maybe this is it.

I'm excited to go see Organic Flow and Saul Williams, spoken word extraordinaire on Saturday March 27, because its going to be insane, empowering, and proceeds go to Rock for Kids. This badass show, "A Night of Sight and Sound" is being put on by Lethal Poetry and their goal is to bring non-profits, for-profits, and artists together. I hatched a nearly identical plan when my friend told me to quit my job and start a nonprofit (which I proceeded to do thanks jake!). I'm working on an initiative to create a social business, a microfinance music mashup and it seems my people need to talk to their people.