An introvert's perspective on spoken word
Tobi Abdul
Staff Reporter
If you put me in a group of five people I didn’t know, my anxiety would shoot through the roof and I’d be in a panic.
But if you put me on stage in front of fifty people and asked me to bare my soul, I wouldn’t hesitate. Being someone who usually prefers to be alone, having a passion for spoken word doesn’t make much sense.
But here I am, competing a few times a month in poetry slams in Hamilton and Toronto, standing in front of other people and asking them to assign a numerical value to how I share my thoughts, my feelings and my fears. The nerves don’t go away. Before each performance I feel like I’m going to throw up, my hands shake, a million things other than the poem run through my head and I fear terrific failure.
The first time I performed my poetry out loud was at a high school literary coffeehouse complete with black tablecloths, tea lights, and about seventy people. My knees shook so much that I thought I was literally going to fall. My voice wavered and I stared down at my paper the entire time, but as soon as I was done, the auditorium erupted into applause and in that moment, I fell in love with performing.
As soon I get on the stage, for those few minutes, I become someone else, someone more confident, less aware of my surroundings. It’s not so much that I have to overcome my introversion in order to perform spoken word, it’s that my passion for it is so big it feels impossible not to. Even though people are literally judging me, the reception somehow validates me. Lets me know that I’ve just told people the inner workings of my brain and they dig it.
That’s not to say that I only perform poetry for validation. It’s just an added bonus. The main reason why I compete in poetry slams and perform spoken word is to release. Spoken word is a rare format because you get to express yourself without anticipating a response. It’s a one-way conversation that is received with applauses, ovations, cheers and high scores (for the most part).
When I feel anything, whether it be happy or sad or angry, I write a poem. When I get up in front of people and say the poem, it’s as if I’ve just released all the feelings I’ve been holding in. Before I knew what an introvert was, I just thought I was a weird kid who was destined to be alone. I didn’t realize that it was normal to be exhausted by people. Even when you don’t try to, you’re constantly putting on a show for people. From putting on clothes, to brushing your hair, to showering, to looking presentable, it’s all for other people. Of course, I don’t go around dishevelled, dirty and naked when I am alone, but you put in an effort to look presentable for the public.
Beyond that, everything that you say has to be socially appropriate and you have to censor yourself slightly depending on your environment. When I felt like people wouldn’t understand the words I had to say, I would listen to or read other people’s words for reassurance in some semblance of unity.
When I heard a spoken-word poem for the first time, it was as if the feelings I got when I listened to a song and the ones I got when I read a good monologue came together. Since then, I haven’t been able to get enough of it. Having a passion for something outside my comfort zone but discovering that I’m pretty good at it forced me to come out of my shell. There’s one moment during every performance when I look into the audience and they’re looking at me with admiration that I realize I’m doing exactly what I was meant to do.
I still prefer to spend time alone, but every day I step out because I have to in order to keep doing what I love. I keep writing in hopes that one day there will be an awkward teenage kid who thinks they’re weird and my words will help them realize they aren’t. I hate being judged, I usually hate being the centre of attention and I hate putting on shows for people but yet I spend most of my time writing so that I can put on a show for people, be the center of attention and get judged. Ironic.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. When you discover your passion, you may have to step outside of your comfort zone to pursue it but I can guarantee that it will be worth it.