I create people and places out of 26
letters and handful punctuation I write
to understand
I write to explain and I write to
remember I wrote my first book when I
was 7 and it was called the big book of
why they’re really creative title and
then this book I tried to answer
questions I always felt curious about
philosophical questions like why our
pancakes flat and why our peaches fuzzy
I remember feeling more excited than
nervous to present my book in class in
2nd grade back then I was spying with
sharing my stories and ideas in front of
other people
but that changed after I grew older and
I moved from school to school to school
I was tired of being the new kid so I
started to become more and more self
conscious and they spoke less and less
and class my classmates and teachers
would always ask why are you so quiet it
was a question that I never knew how to
answer
quiet seemed like a quality I wasn’t
supposed to have so and sort of asking
about pancakes or peaches I asked why am
I so quiet why is it so hard for me to
speak of it
make sense and it didn’t help that I
compared myself to my older sister who
loved speech in debate and she was an
avid debater in high school while she
was off winning state competitions uh
Lincoln and Douglas debate I was at home
making comic books that felt more and
more childish I had no idea that she was
also struggling with shyness but try not
to let it show I wanted to be more like
her
confident certain assertive I never
expected that poetry with hope the
summer after my sophomore year I
attended a creative writing program at
Cal arts and one night there was an open
mic where people from all different
disciplines came to speak there were
people from Creative Writing or theater
or animation or dance they all signed up
to perform poetry some people’s voices
boomed others relied more on the
microphone there were poems on topics
ranging from depression to mangas
there are left poems angry poems sad
poems hopeful poems and when people
perform spoken word the audience does
not remain silent you snap when you hear
a powerful line and people clap and
cheer and whistle and this incredible
energy filled the room for those of you
to talk now spoken word spoken word
poetry is a bit different from Britain
poetry written poetry usually requires
more time to unpack and understand and
you have to read and reread but spoken
word is like emotions condensed a lot of
time it’s fierce it’s an apology I think
it’s raw and I felt inspired to share my
own poems that night I almost raised my
hand with a cold for anyone’s volunteers
but I still had to pay that’s because I
didn’t know if I wanted to share
something so personal in front of 4050
people I would rather not speaking
I regretted letting my anxiety hold me
back from what I wanted to do I wanted
to do what scared me I wanted to prove
to myself and other people that I could
perform I wanted to share stories that
maybe just maybe with help other people
so when he heard about a poetry slam at
the Cupertino library a few months later
I signed up and they tried not to think
about how nervous I would become but on
the night of the event I felt like I was
a walking talking disaster I my hands
are clean my voice is shaking I didn’t
even know if people could understand
what I was saying but after the event
people came up to me I said thank you
for performing they said my poles are
powerful and they said they they hope to
and they started to think okay maybe
this does terrifying me but why should I
let that stop me my performance at more
events I participated in more open mics
were poetry slams I published my cause I
participated in Poetry Out Loud which is
a national poetry recitation competition
and even though I did not advance to the
state level there were so many people
supporting me there were three English
teachers coaching me encouraging me
there were classmates and Poetry Club as
they’re cheering for me yeah I was one
lucky aspiring poet when I still AM and
strength I felt so grateful it’s so glad
to have all those people
[Music]
and around that time I also discovered
this quote by Amelia Earhart the fears
or paper tigers something that might
seem terrifying it might not be that
scary once you face it head-on for me
public speaking was like this a few
years ago it terrified me I tried to
avoid it as much as possible but after
forcing myself to speak up over and over
again it’s starting to become a bit more
like this
and maybe a few years from now I’ll look
back on the present and my fears will be
like this and I think we all know
carries certain fears we all have paper
tigers that seem like actual temptation
but it is possible to shrink those
tigers back into paper ones to unfold
them to end up with that wrinkles where
she of paper and start over again if you
feel like you’re too quiet too loud that
you never stand up for yourself if you
feel frustrated about yourself and then
you for any reason it is possible to
change and it is possible to fold
yourself into the person
to the cup and little by little word by
word line by line I’m becoming a bit
more confident and I’ve discovered that
poetry not only helps in the visual
speaker but also entire communities
earlier this year I participated on
March 4 lives in San Jose and not the
end there were three or four speakers
who performed poetry and even though it
was raining that day and the water was
soaking into my shoes and my glasses
were coverage with raindrops they were
cheering we were shouting we were
holding other coasters and that same
energy washed out over the crowd and
inspired by the poems that they shared
I’d like to end tonight I’d like to end
this talk with a poem that I wrote
inspired by March of our lives and it’s
this is not a drill the intercom blares
it’s the principal but not the principal
it’s a CodeRed but not a drill it’s a
Wednesday afternoon but instead of
leading us through the next song mrs.
Brown is locking the door we were going
to pull out the xylophone as if we had
extra time we were going to sing happy
birthday for Kyle because Kyle is
turning nine but this is a Code Red and
this is not a drill
the blinds down the door blocked the
lights off and the minutes bleed into
waiting waiting until a flurry of all
clear lights on chairs now file out mr.
t is here to lead us back to homeroom as
we settle into plastic seats mr. cheese
stands pale and silent before us when
the lowboys he tells us he was at the
front of the school with the principal
there’s a man wearing a trench coat and
the man was not happy even though it’s
Kyle’s happy birthday keep an eye on him
the principal said then hurried into the
office to announce the Code Red that was
not a drill
mr. T didn’t dare blink
alone he stayed just him and the armed
man when I was five I fell victim to ki
s us ing songs I thought I’d die of
humiliation
but people RJ I ll ing children my age
older younger the adults they might have
been but we raise our hands to remember
the spread of red the coup treads brain
the sobs and the stinging of the wells
and the grief and the shots and the
because America dear America we will
[Applause] [Music]
letters and handful punctuation I write
to understand
I write to explain and I write to
remember I wrote my first book when I
was 7 and it was called the big book of
why they’re really creative title and
then this book I tried to answer
questions I always felt curious about
philosophical questions like why our
pancakes flat and why our peaches fuzzy
I remember feeling more excited than
nervous to present my book in class in
2nd grade back then I was spying with
sharing my stories and ideas in front of
other people
but that changed after I grew older and
I moved from school to school to school
I was tired of being the new kid so I
started to become more and more self
conscious and they spoke less and less
and class my classmates and teachers
would always ask why are you so quiet it
was a question that I never knew how to
answer
quiet seemed like a quality I wasn’t
supposed to have so and sort of asking
about pancakes or peaches I asked why am
I so quiet why is it so hard for me to
speak of it
make sense and it didn’t help that I
compared myself to my older sister who
loved speech in debate and she was an
avid debater in high school while she
was off winning state competitions uh
Lincoln and Douglas debate I was at home
making comic books that felt more and
more childish I had no idea that she was
also struggling with shyness but try not
to let it show I wanted to be more like
her
confident certain assertive I never
expected that poetry with hope the
summer after my sophomore year I
attended a creative writing program at
Cal arts and one night there was an open
mic where people from all different
disciplines came to speak there were
people from Creative Writing or theater
or animation or dance they all signed up
to perform poetry some people’s voices
boomed others relied more on the
microphone there were poems on topics
ranging from depression to mangas
there are left poems angry poems sad
poems hopeful poems and when people
perform spoken word the audience does
not remain silent you snap when you hear
a powerful line and people clap and
cheer and whistle and this incredible
energy filled the room for those of you
to talk now spoken word spoken word
poetry is a bit different from Britain
poetry written poetry usually requires
more time to unpack and understand and
you have to read and reread but spoken
word is like emotions condensed a lot of
time it’s fierce it’s an apology I think
it’s raw and I felt inspired to share my
own poems that night I almost raised my
hand with a cold for anyone’s volunteers
but I still had to pay that’s because I
didn’t know if I wanted to share
something so personal in front of 4050
people I would rather not speaking
I regretted letting my anxiety hold me
back from what I wanted to do I wanted
to do what scared me I wanted to prove
to myself and other people that I could
perform I wanted to share stories that
maybe just maybe with help other people
so when he heard about a poetry slam at
the Cupertino library a few months later
I signed up and they tried not to think
about how nervous I would become but on
the night of the event I felt like I was
a walking talking disaster I my hands
are clean my voice is shaking I didn’t
even know if people could understand
what I was saying but after the event
people came up to me I said thank you
for performing they said my poles are
powerful and they said they they hope to
and they started to think okay maybe
this does terrifying me but why should I
let that stop me my performance at more
events I participated in more open mics
were poetry slams I published my cause I
participated in Poetry Out Loud which is
a national poetry recitation competition
and even though I did not advance to the
state level there were so many people
supporting me there were three English
teachers coaching me encouraging me
there were classmates and Poetry Club as
they’re cheering for me yeah I was one
lucky aspiring poet when I still AM and
strength I felt so grateful it’s so glad
to have all those people
[Music]
and around that time I also discovered
this quote by Amelia Earhart the fears
or paper tigers something that might
seem terrifying it might not be that
scary once you face it head-on for me
public speaking was like this a few
years ago it terrified me I tried to
avoid it as much as possible but after
forcing myself to speak up over and over
again it’s starting to become a bit more
like this
and maybe a few years from now I’ll look
back on the present and my fears will be
like this and I think we all know
carries certain fears we all have paper
tigers that seem like actual temptation
but it is possible to shrink those
tigers back into paper ones to unfold
them to end up with that wrinkles where
she of paper and start over again if you
feel like you’re too quiet too loud that
you never stand up for yourself if you
feel frustrated about yourself and then
you for any reason it is possible to
change and it is possible to fold
yourself into the person
to the cup and little by little word by
word line by line I’m becoming a bit
more confident and I’ve discovered that
poetry not only helps in the visual
speaker but also entire communities
earlier this year I participated on
March 4 lives in San Jose and not the
end there were three or four speakers
who performed poetry and even though it
was raining that day and the water was
soaking into my shoes and my glasses
were coverage with raindrops they were
cheering we were shouting we were
holding other coasters and that same
energy washed out over the crowd and
inspired by the poems that they shared
I’d like to end tonight I’d like to end
this talk with a poem that I wrote
inspired by March of our lives and it’s
this is not a drill the intercom blares
it’s the principal but not the principal
it’s a CodeRed but not a drill it’s a
Wednesday afternoon but instead of
leading us through the next song mrs.
Brown is locking the door we were going
to pull out the xylophone as if we had
extra time we were going to sing happy
birthday for Kyle because Kyle is
turning nine but this is a Code Red and
this is not a drill
the blinds down the door blocked the
lights off and the minutes bleed into
waiting waiting until a flurry of all
clear lights on chairs now file out mr.
t is here to lead us back to homeroom as
we settle into plastic seats mr. cheese
stands pale and silent before us when
the lowboys he tells us he was at the
front of the school with the principal
there’s a man wearing a trench coat and
the man was not happy even though it’s
Kyle’s happy birthday keep an eye on him
the principal said then hurried into the
office to announce the Code Red that was
not a drill
mr. T didn’t dare blink
alone he stayed just him and the armed
man when I was five I fell victim to ki
s us ing songs I thought I’d die of
humiliation
but people RJ I ll ing children my age
older younger the adults they might have
been but we raise our hands to remember
the spread of red the coup treads brain
the sobs and the stinging of the wells
and the grief and the shots and the
because America dear America we will
[Applause] [Music]
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