Public speaking is an extremely common fear — in fact, certain studies have ranked it as more feared than death. So, for someone taking his or her first steps into the world of performance poetry or “spoken word,” the experience can be turbulent to say the least. I know it has been for me.
When I walked into the Supermarket last Friday for the Toronto Poetry Project’s free spoken word workshop, I experienced the intense feeling of discomfort and uneasiness that arises when you enter a room where you don’t know anyone but know that everyone is there for the same reason. Combating this feeling can be intimidating given how daunting it can be to approach others when you are not a “regular” or friends with the host. I’ll admit that when my lead pencil failed me, I had to get a drink and work up the courage just to ask the person next to me if they had a writing utensil to spare.
That was until Buddy Wakefield sat beside me. A poet who has garnered acclaim worldwide, Wakefield related to me as easily as if we were two friends just meeting for a chat. He, the person set to run this workshop, never took claim to the customarily established hierarchy of teacher and students, but instead took on the role of fellow artist.
“It’s okay to be nervous”
Wakefield sat amongst us and, instead of talking to us about his idea of what spoken word should be, he split the evening into two parts; first, we talked together about spoken word and second, we got up on stage and performed our own pieces so that Wakefield could give us performance advice. This second part to me, a first timer, was equally enticing as it was terrifying.
In the first half, questions were asked about writers block and breaking convention. The main question I had was that of any novice: what advice do you have for someone in my position?
Wakefield shared his own experience and was sincere in his answer: “It’s okay to be nervous. Be honest with yourself. Allow that feeling to unfold as it is, not as you’d like it to be.”
This became a theme throughout the evening. Wakefield held honesty, authenticity, and sincerity as important tenants of spoken word. He lamented about how contrived and perhaps fake the Slam poetry community he came from had become, but not without emphasizing that the community had much to offer and provided a space for new voices to be heard.
Sharing poetry
The second half, the half where I sat nervously in my seat mustering the courage to walk on stage, was frightening. Before I even took the stage I wondered if anyone would like my work, if I would fumble my lines, or if my performance just was not good. Typically I’m a vocal person but even I suffer from that all too common fear of public speaking.
When I managed to get on stage, I thought about what Wakefield had said. That advice led to my third and best performance of my piece. Wakefield’s advice that followed, as it was for those before me, was honest and friendly. It didn’t feel like the critique I had imagined. It was supportive, a feeling that extended as well from others who approached me by the end of the evening.
Wakefield also mentioned during our talk that, in spoken word, the artist shouldn’t do all the work. They should let the audience do some as well. Personally, what this audience provided to my piece was an open and comfortable forum to share it — a space where I didn’t feel like anyone was telling me who, what, or how to be. It was in that realization of a welcoming community that my original uneasiness and discomfort settled.
I want to share with those starting out in this community that it is useful to examine it when entering. Get involved and go to events so that you can see for yourself that it is a community of supportive artists willing to give you advice and listen despite your level of skill. It is a community that wants to make you feel comfortable because that is when you perform the best. You, like any performer, want to give that to them, and that’s what an audience wants to see.
