The issue of sanctification and elitism

“so, do you all wear black berets and drink coffee and snap your fingers?”
She pours me more tea
“you know, I always pictured poets that way. You don’t look like a poet.”
All I could do is shake my head and laugh. There’s a general misconception that spoken word artists are “beat” poets. Although some of us do admire the likes of Ginsberg and Kerouac, we aren’t exactly the same. Some may say that beat poetry laid the groundwork for what is known as spoken word today, but for some reason, I think regardless of it’s previous coffee house existence, spoken word would’ve risen in the current form. So what does a poet look like? That’s the beauty, you’d never know. Could be that eccentric elementary school teacher, or the soft spoken college professor. Could be that mangy kid who graduated in your high school class and decided to backpack around europe instead of going to college or it could be that cheerleader who got into yale. Could be your accountant or the electrician or your neighbor’s grandmother who bakes you cookies. It could be anyone.

Or so it should be. It plagues every art and it clearly hasn’t spared spoken word- elitism. It’s like we’ve stumbled onto this incredible form that anyone can do, understand and participate, which is precisely what is so wonderful about it, and then we want to make it our own. Just for people like us. And although spoken word artists come in all shapes and sizes, it seems to me that each circle of spoken word has their own “type” and attempts at diversification of that type is shaky at best. It’s difficult to put my finger on. I can only tell you that I know it from experience, of being the “new girl” that it is pretty difficult to break into a circle. It can be on mulitiple levels: race, gender, age, sexual orientation. Different circles tend to attract different types of poets. And as psychology teaches us, it is not an intentional clustering, but rather one of instinct and socialization: stick to your in-group. It’s something I’ve noticed even here in Canada,specifically in Toronto and retrospectively in New York City as well.

So how do we battle this problem of elitism in an art which prides itself on being anti-elitist? Active diversification. Certainly, you cannot possibly grab a person off the street who is of different age/race/gender/sexual orientation, stick them on stage with a microphone and say “ok go”. But you can do things to make the scene more welcoming and accesible to different types of people. A very large issue that has prohibited even me from attending certain events is the presence of cover fees. Most slams tend to have a 5-8 dollar cover, but I have encountered a few that are upwards of 10 dollars. By charging such a high amount at the door, it discourages people in two ways: 1) newbies who wouldn’t dream of spending 10 dollars on a “poetry show” and 2) people who struggle to earn money who simply can’t spend it on entertainment. Spoken word has the ability to include everyone, including street people (I remind you of the beats, who oftentimes befriended street people or were street people themselves). Everyone has a valid story and should be given the opportunity to speak for themselves, regardless of their income.

Another large problem is through marketing. Spoken word has the potential to attract all types, from all crowds and scenes- theater people, musicians, artists, directors, journalists, students, professors tend to be attracted to spoken word, but that shouldn't disclude frat boys, jocks, nerds, preppy girls, punks, goths etc... So how do we get their attention? Maybe we should do what we say we do: maybe we should just talk to them. Instead of writing them off or putting words in their mouth (ie: no way a frat boy would enjoy a poetry show... besides the beers are too expensive...) invite them to come along. From my experience, you can't find a specific "type" who likes spoken word. it speaks to most everyone. And what's more: it inspires others to speak for themselves. Of all the poets I've met, the majority of them got their start in spoken word by watching a spoken word show and being completely blown away. Sure, they might've been writers or poets before, but after seeing that performance they were transformed into spoken word poets. It's like a good contageous disease. Get up on stage and spit your truth and maybe someone in the audience will catch on. You never know who you could inspire. Another really great solution to the marketing problem (or the "same 20" issue, as some like to call it) I've noticed was the way spoken word artists take their poetry to the classroom. That way it can be exposed to a younger audience that would've never been able to get into a bar or even stay out late enough at a cafe to watch a poetry show. I've seen the results of this technique, and it's been incredible. At one high school in Halifax, I saw a girl get up on stage whose presence rivaled that of the best poets I've seen.

See, the point of spoken word is that it tells a story. Our story. That story changes depending on the culture, personality, writing style, perspective and priviledge of the poet. But it's still a story and it's still (hopefully) true. There are poets out there that put their words into a formula to produce a poem which will get them enough points to win a slam... and many times they do win. But I've seen their dominance toppled by an unexpected display of utter and painful truth. I recall a slam I attended at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in New York City. There was a tie between two poets- both with a fast talking intense metaphorical style (think Saul Williams-esque) which in my experience is usually favored at slams. The first poet gets up, does an incredible piece (ok, it sounded incredible... i only caught half the words). Then the second poet gets up on stage and performs this beautiful piece about his family and his little brother who passed away. It's slow and soulful, and you could feel the whole room get heavy. That's when you know it's not for show... it's the incredible ability to make people feel something in only 3 minutes. Afterwards I talked to the second poet and asked him why he chose that particular piece. He said that he knew he was capable of fast talking and putting on "entertainment" for the audience. But although it was riskier, he decided to do something true. And it's good that he did, because he won.

So there is distinct danger in spoken word becoming a reincarnation of our elitist beatnik forefathers with their all-male smoky cafes, black turtle necks and bongos. Most definitely. But there are also ways to ensure that it continues to grow and develop the way it has in its newest reincarnation for the past 20 years.