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| Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash |
On June 18th-19th, I got the amazing privilege to attend the Skagit River Poetry Festival, a poetry festival where poets from all over attend in the Pacific Northwest to talk about poetry, give advice, and read. According to Molly McNulty, executive direct of the Skagit River Poetry Foundation, the festival's goal is to be a "love letter" to the community. To sum it up? It was powerful. But don't worry, I enjoy writing much too much to just give you a summarized version of this event.
During my last quarter of college before graduating with my AA-DTA, I took a class with the intention to study poetry and how the written word interacts with performance and the audience. It was through this class that I got to attend the festival and shadow a poet for two days. The poet I got to shadow was Lena Khalaf Tuffaha. It was through her that I learned the power of poetry.
Tuffaha is a first-generation American and has Palestinian, Jordanian, and Syrian heritage. Many of her poems are about crossing cultural and political boarders. In an interview with her, I got to ask her a little bit about why she writes what she writes. She told me that as a writer, she feels a responsibility to tell the truth of what is happening in her homeland and the lives that are being affected there. Here's a little sample of her work:
"Run.
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of
war-time courtesy.
It doesn't matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and here are more human lives
packed against the other
more than any other place on earth
Just run.
We aren't trying to kill you." (An excerpt of "Running Orders" from Water & Salt)
Tuffaha told me about her home. About the library her grandfather had and the countless hours she spent reading. The influence that had on her poetry. Yet, so much of that is being destroyed. It broke my heart. "How can I create a change?" I asked. She told me, to simply use my knowledge of the world to create a change in the people I know. In other words, don't let sexism, racism, and other offensive behavior go uncalled, especially with the people you know and who trust you. Use your light to shine in the darkness. But most of all, don't under estimate the power of the written word and a passion to create change.
Poetry is power.
I saw this in other poets as well. Tina Chang reminded the audience that every missing child could be one of our own. Ada Limon described the feeling of watching a life slip away right before your eyes. Quenton Baker used spoken word to transform the audience to slave ship. And every single time, I was right there. I was walking with the child and then he disappeared. I held the hand of the dying person until it went limp. I saw the shivering mass of bodies huddled in fear as the boat rocked violently. All it was were words, but it was what were in those words that mattered.
It's easy to think that your words don't matter. That no one will get, or even want to hear, what you have to say. It's not true. Your words, passions, experiences, they have so much power. Use them. Celebrate them. Embrace them.
Most of all, I invite you to find the power of poetry. Allow it to give you a different view of the world.
If you would like to learn more about Lena Khalaf Tuffaha, click here.
If you would like to learn more about the Skagit River Poetry Foundation, click here.
If you would like to read some of my poetry, click here.
What does the power of poetry mean to you? We all have something to say. Go ahead, pick up that pen, and write. But don't write for the world. First, write for yourself.
Happy writing,
Elizabeth
