“You Strike A Woman, You Strike A Rock”
a Klepto-Collaborative Poem from TEDxWomen, December 1st, 2011
1.
Forget
Our collective history of
Not wanting to take up too much space
The pressure to be conventionally feminine
Accepting the presumptions of our fathers
Being popular Starving to fit in
Tweezing Bleaching Botox
Painful waxing
The new social norm Of plastic surgery
Dismiss
Trips
Across the globe Of our bodies
In search of
A cure
Distractions
Measuring up to Magazine covers
Myths Perpetrated by
Hollywood “Real Housewives”
The industry of pornography
Ignore
The media Consuming bad behavior
Complicit
A sense of entitlement
Handicapped with the notion that value lies in beauty
Remember
That lense The lessons
Alarming loss
The sport Of comparing Devaluing
Hyper-sexualizing Stealing innocence
Yes The world does fall apart
Yes History tried to crush
She caused a sensation Sold violence and sex
What I’m here to say is
Pirates Soldiers History
You’re done
You are not the boss of me
Bullies
Regardless of age or gender
Culture of conformity
We’ve had enough
My sisters and I
Will bypass you Move on
Pursue other friend opportunities
Invest in our own unique identity
The good girl
The odd girl out
Shy, sensitive and sweet creatures
Brave Hope
Wings folded Or stretched to the limits
A strange mixture of humility and daring
Declarative
They are all us
An all-female bomb squad
A new legacy
Thinking differently
Driven by a cause, a purpose, a belief
Each woman Beautifully designed
From the inside out
2.
Mothers and daughters and sisters
Walked into the room
Of not-good-enough
Like the sun
Broke through the glass ceiling
With their high-heels
With blood, sweat and tears
With voices raised
With an instinct to save
Crossing the chasm
Of what came before
With the radical idea
Of equality
3.
None of what I’m telling you is my opinion
After decades of
Swallowing Abuse
You go home with something broken
Retreat into silence
Coiled ropes at the edges of nothing
A vast horizon
Of isolation
Subliminal Epidemic
Hungry Haiku
Of invisible question marks
Rooted
You wake up
Infected
Pregnant with Dark matter
Folding on itself
Giving birth to
Dark energy
Nightmares And self doubt
A kind of kryptonite
How many Generations of girls are
Tragically scarred Misdiagnosed
Suffering consequences of resistance
A sense of invisibility Like an oil spill
Voices constantly saying
Be nice Be pretty
Be seen but not heard
Be sexy and skinny
But not too smart
Not too fast
Which transitions into
Unexploded ordinance
We all carry with us
Pass on to our daughters and granddaughters
Party favors
Parting gifts
Disguised
As a fishing vessel
A bottle of poison
A refugee camp
A couple of little spikes
An assembly line
The first apple I ever tasted
4.
Women of hope Begin to rule
Imminently qualified
Burning up with a fever
Awaken Chosen
Wings extended
Women of change
It’s time to Pilot the plane
Write your own stories
Believe in our glorious Female pattern
A rich iron mine
Gravitational attracting Bending the curve
Achieve this tipping point
Personal relationship with the heart
A huge pot of soup which we all share
Nourished With belief
You’re not helpless
You’re someone
You’re just fine
Darling Free yourself
March with generations of women
On the mall in Washington
Become advocates of
The magic of existence that is us
Showing up united
Our militia Of change
Dance with joy, dance with love
On the frontiers of possibility
With occasional graffiti
That gift from the boat
A dream speech
A higher authority
Of compassion
Of community
Girls and women
Great oracle Golden circle
The scale of the night sky
Bow dipping into each wave Of speaking out
Defying fiction
Telling one another the story
Mother of invention
Never let me forget
Plant me Marvel
I’m here to stay
Here’s a human heart
Powerful Origami
Beyond comprehension
Connecting all of us
Take ahold of that small hand
Never let go
Believe, believe, believe
5.
Lo and behold, look what’s happening
With girls all over the world
Lo and behold
All over the world
Girls
Happening
Behold, Girls
The world
6.
Come, say goodbye To our shared history
Of soldiers at the break of dawn
Pirates at midnight And mockingbirds
Shed the voices Of the past
Of patriarchy Misogyny
The roles Of restriction
Subjugation
We can fix our own
Broken Wings
Don’t leave me up here all by myself
Make that journey Walk the line
We can’t afford to wait
I welcome you To the rebirth
Look to the woman on your left
Look to the woman on your right
Take her hand
Side by side
We can Wish
Leap forward Take flight
Create a brand new story
Talking about a child
A little girl climbing a tree
A poet, a playwright, a teacher, a politician, a neurobiologist
Capacity to imagine Freedom
Interwoven In the bloodstream
Listen This will protect the heart
We are not hopeless
This Is the revolution
We are pioneering our Evolution
Exploring The fertile void
Nurturing The upward ascension of the human spirit
Girls are the solution
Cure for The old paradigm
Their authenticity Their passion
Is the beginning of the beginning
The reverse of The so-called Golden rule
Let’s see them safely through
Build an alliance With the young leaders of today
Spread the word We are one village
One tribe One blood
Remember The 17 year-old activist in South Africa
Fighting for equality
Fighting
Not for a life of ease Or for technology
But for the privilege of education
Her name is Busisiwe
Which, translated, means Bliss
To hear more about the TEDxWomen conference & find out exactly what the heck a “klepto-collaborative” poem is, sidle over to my other blog WordPlay.
I’ll be doing another live-action klepto-collaborative poetry creation & performance (like I did for TEDxTheWoodlands) at TEDxYouth@TheWoodlands on January 7th. The event is all sold out but you can place your name on the waiting list; I hope to see you there!
I know, I know, this post doesn’t contain anything about recumbent trikes or MS or even service dogs, specifically – and yet, everything is connected. I am a writer, a poet, who happens to have MS. The thing I learned from Michael J. Fox is how to see things differently, to re-frame them, as opportunity rather than tragedy. So when I was diagnosed with MS and it became clear that my life would no longer revolve around acting and the theatre, I had to find another way to tell stories. A way that didn’t involve me performing on stages. Which is when I reclaimed my first love, creative writing.
Or, I guess to be more accurate, my first love – as is the way with all writers – was reading. Every teller of tales started out as the listener, the consumer. More than anything else in life I am a lover of story; it’s who I am. I love reading stories and watching stories through film and hearing other people’s stories any way they’re told, through every medium a story can be communicated.
I am a storyteller. Being a storyteller is one of the main ways I cope with a life intersected by MS. As much as having a devoted service dog and riding a recumbent trike transform my day-in & day-out with this illness for the better & brighter, so does my love of story. In fact, if worse came to worse and I had no trike or service dog, I know that storytelling is what would save me. Stories have always saved me.
Which is why I blog, and why I volunteer my time tutoring and sharing my love of poetry, storytelling and the imaginative/creative process with kids. It’s why I endeavor to grow something in the Greater Houston community like 826Valencia. And it’s why I’m always searching for new ways to play with the way I tell stories. Case in point, this new thing I’ve invented (or at least I’m pretty sure that I did!), called a klepto-collaborative poem.
I hope you enjoy this poem I created from TEDxWomen; please feel free to pass it on.
Wonky Woman on a Bent Trike 