Northwest of What….
One of the perks of coming to a new city is that no one knows who you are. So, for once in a long time I can be whatever I want to be. I’m not saying that I will turn into an evil villain or leap tall buildings in a single bound but I am certainly exploring all my options.
One of my passions is reading. Another is writing, and this is something that I have been working on for a couple of years now. Those of you who know me have witnessed a couple of passages already, but I have a lot of stories to tell and maybe this is a great place to start.
There is a writing community up here called Northwords NWT. It is a collection of writers, poets and lovers of the written word. They celebrate authors of northern Canada and champion new writers with workshops, guest speakers and open mic nights. This past weekend there was a gathering of poets, storytellers and comedic stand-up performers at the Top Knight above the Black Knight Pub in downtown Yellowknife.
The night was aptly named ‘Gather’ and it was a sold-out crowd of family and friends of the Northwords NWT family. When I joined this group on Facebook, I saw the advertisement and thought that this was a chance for me to finally meet new people and get involved with a community project. What better place to be than with like-minded people who value the ability to express one’s self on paper or with the spoken word.
I never considered myself a public speaker but in for a penny, in for a pound, so I put my money where my mouth is (enough of the clichés) and off we went to the evening paper in hand. I was the first person to put my name on the sign-up sheet and secretly hoped that I wouldn’t be the first to speak. Of course, that is exactly what happened. As soon as I stepped to the microphone, I declared that I was a virgin, a stage virgin that is, and asked for the audience to be gentle with me. I got a couple of chuckles for that and proceeded to tell my story.
I tried to calm my voice but my whole body was vibrating. I don’t know if it was nerves or excitement but I couldn’t focus on that because I was afraid of losing my place on the page. I snuck peeks at the audience and felt how generous they were with their silence, their eyes intently watching me and helping me tell my story. They patiently waited for me to finish and their smiles and applause lifted me up. I practically bounced off the stage. On my way back to my seat, a woman gave me two thumbs up and told me that I killed it.
The evening continued on with poetry, comedy and a lot of storytelling. One woman talked about how the art of spitting enthralled her while she was working in Gambia. Another speaker titillated us with erotic poetry. Our guest speaker from Vancouver showed us his sadboi side and gave us a taste of his rap. But, the person who resonated with me the most was a poet by the name of Jackson.
He is indigenous. He is fierce and He is unapologetic. He wasn’t afraid to talk to a ‘white crowd’ and he wasn’t afraid to say it like it is. His poem “Northwest of What” called out every misconception of Canadian history of the north and did it without belittling, or antagonism. I only wished that I had taped it because it was spirited and worthy. He told us that he had jotted it down during the fifteen minute break. Sheer genius. This is who I want to be.
