We Got Five On It PT1
Lynx with a mighty roar, we unite to be loved, to play, and to be witness to one another’s truths. Somewhere along the way, between the blizzard cold and madness of March, Chicago slam poetry season gathered us up. Though the poetry, not the points, was said to be the point, Kuumba Lynx (KL) came to battle. We did. And we won. In fact we got 5 on it, actually six. These battles, however, were less about the poem and more about our process and the way we go about building relationships. Something we often felt ourselves defending. Whether a critique of our use of movement or lack of knowledge of literary writers, folx always had something to say about the way we went about creative expression for liberation. We’d struggle, do we even want to battle? Folx will bug out at these poetry slams.
FACTS! This was supposed to be a book. A slam poetry memoir. foreword, chapter outline and a few other sections are drafted. But Does anyone even care? Our confidence diminished, a few deadlines missed, and just like that, the Kuumba Lynx performance poetry ensemble was silenced, hidden somewhere in a Google doc.
Kind of what happens when we seek to express, particularly about creativity toward liberation. (Something the literary world seems to dismiss as a reason for writing).
.. Once, with the direction of Clyde V., our consultant at the time, we spent a year asking young folx what is it about KL? Damn near all of em said the same thing, the circle up. To this day, we summon song here, the place where @klynx_mama first invited us to, back in ‘96. It started with pouring libation and has since grown into a sometimes 45 minute ritual of dap passing affirmations, human beatbox groundings, appreciation, respect, chants and intimate confessions amongst our KL relatives.
We do hip Hop Theater to be courageous and to connect with others. We don’t really like the way the competition moves us. We were ready though, like when you cook early on a Sunday and the pots rest warm in the oven for whoever comes over. See we’d cook all year, seasoned in expression and critique and in imagination. We weren’t afraid to speak out. We could play for weeks, sometimes literally up until just hours before a slam poetry competition. We trusted each other because we worked at that first. We knew creativity existed. We focused on building community so that together we could remix the dominant narrative and move the crowd.
More than likely, if you walk into a KL space, you can already buss a freestyle, decipher a burner from a throw up, understand Poppin to be separate from Lockin but much better at “Erk it jerk it’s” anyways.. Our gatherings were always about being witness to one another’s lived experience. during a Knowledge share cipher (a circle based upon mutual respect that holds space for collective convos on issues youth deem relevant, where those voices most impacted are centered). We story share, we ask questions about critical questions, we take space & make space.
But For the most part, as writers, when it came to putting pen to paper, we were first timers. Jaquanda would say “ if you will join me lift ya pens up- and repeat after me, I express with my wrist the fight of my fist” and I’d back her up, “ “listen, if you thinking about shit and you got an opinion, maybe a whole idea about it, then you are a writer, you just haven’t written it down yet!”
We didn’t audition because talent or literary skill has never been about how polished we are or how creative of a writer you are. It is simply about our truths, our lived experiences. For me as a coach or Hip Hop Arts Facilitator, I am interested in your story. Creativity is usually a given. Once you gain the confidence to tell your story, we can play all day. The best part of our writing process is when we get in our liberatory toy box and imagine and dream it all up. The freedom in that sort of play provides all the creativity and confidence for the performance. the story, the poem is completely alive then.