On October 16th, I was absolutely honoured to be the Poet in Residence for TedxTeesside Women. As I sit now, a few weeks later, reflecting on how on earth I could possibly have managed to bag the job; I realise I am in fact a poet. And I’m a bloody good one. It’s so uncomfortable to type that out, and I fear it may take me a while to say it out loud to anyone but the mirror. I’ve already started rambling and I’m only 85 words in; so enjoy this chaotic retelling of my experience as a Poet in Residence.
Becoming A Poet in Residence
Earlier this year, I met Michaela Reaney at an International Women’s Day event ran by local charity My Sister’s Place where I was doing a poetry performance. Michaela came over to me at the end of my set, and not only complimented my writing and performance but asked if I would be interested in doing something with TedxTeesside Women. I automatically said yes- what an opportunity! Even if I was secretly terrified and felt incredibly underqualified.
Skip forward a few months and we had decided I was to be Poet in Residence. I would take notes throughout the event; compose a poem from that then perform it to close the day. Easy. As the day drew closer, I began questioning and doubting myself. Fears and anxieties crept up on me when I least expected.
What if you get writer’s block? What if no one gets it? What if you’re actually not good at this? What if you can’t write? What if you get heckled? What if they hate the poem and you ruin the entire day that people have spent money, time and effort on???
These what-ifs are not uncommon to me; I consistently have at least five going around my brain at any one time. Anyway, the night before I felt sick. Determined not to admit defeat, I attempted a relatively early night to squash my anxieties down and just to focus on the present. The day dawned and I still felt sick. My anxiety loves to play havoc on my digestive system no matter how much, little or what I eat- I’ll leave the rest up to your imaginations.
I arrived at the venue, slightly later than I wanted to due to traffic and parking. I managed to reverse bay park into the last incredibly tight spot I could find and then proceeded to climb out of the passenger seat door because I refused to attempt straightening out the car again. (I am slowly overcoming my driving anxiety but it does rear its head at the most inconvenient of times). I had very much overpacked and very much overestimated how heavy all of my belongings were; and as I powerwalked as fast as I could through MIMA Square towards the Town Hall, I muttered to myself about how incapable I was- how would I be able to write a poem when I could barely make it to the venue.
I walked through the automatic sliding doors, sweating like mad and attempting to compose myself. I was greeted by the most wonderful saxophonist, Sax Janet.
The place was rammed. I scanned the room desperately looking for help before my arms dropped off from the weight of the boxes I was carrying. I found my guiding light, Emma, and she took me into The Crypt where the stage was set, the seats were arranged and there was a buzz in the air. The staff were wonderful and helped me set up my little table and chair at the back of the room; ensuring I had everything I needed. I took a few breaths to soak up the room and imagined myself on the stage before that became a bit too much so I stopped and decided I should find the speakers room. I bumbled through the doors and quickly said hello to everyone, feeling like I didn’t quite belong here in this room filled with some of the most talented, entrepreneurial and inspiring individuals I had met in my life. I was then ushered back down to The Crypt, grabbing a Pain au Chocolat and a banana on the way, just in case. I sat in my seat and watched as people poured through the doors. Continuously. Forever. So many people.
Now my job has really started. Through discussions with Michaela and the speakers, I knew the outline of the event and each talk- but now, now I had to write about it all and fit everything from a seven-hour event into a poem. I had to regularly ground myself, focussing on the present moment and not the daunting performance at the end of the day.
The Speakers
I don’t want to say too much about the speakers or their talks here, but do keep an eye out on the TedxTeesside Website and Instagram to be able to watch their talks. I feel like I cannot emphasise enough how powerful each speaker was and together they delivered messages that spark conversation and drive change.
Sophia Ufy Ukor opened the day with a powerful talk about the importance of telling stories, particularly women’s stories and especially under-represented women’s stories.
Sharon Sinclair Williams provoked us into challenging both external and internal ageism.
Chloe Laws, an incredible writer, poet and speaker broke down the myths behind misandry.
Drew Dalton encouraged us to challenge queerphobia, and to educate ourselves on how sexual identity impacts asylum seekers in ways we couldn’t even imagine.
Tamma Carel delivered a powerful message about how we can help with the climate crisis, encouraging us to take small but impactful steps.
Millie Gooch, someone I have followed for a while, opened up a conversation surrounding alcohol and mental health.
Liz Atkin spoke about the incredible benefits of intergenerational friendships- something that I am blessed enough to know plenty about.
Ruby Dahl, who I desperately tried not to fan girl over, delivered a talk about what real self-love is- questioning how we actually look after ourselves.
We were also lucky enough to hear the 50th episode of the PRsonal Podcast being recorded live, with Charlotte Nichols interviewing Yasmin Khan. Christina Lord helped us practice some breathwork to help us overcome stress, plus the energetic Donna Elliott and Cheryl Lee opened up the day with a super motivational song and dance. Just while I'm here too, a huge thank you to Alice Slee for her images and photography on the day.
The Writing Process
I decided to approach this poem with no previous notes. I had considered bringing everything I had written during previous meetings but I didn’t want to overload myself with information and notes. I also really wanted to be able to capture the feeling of the day and was wary of anything taking away from that.
I had my flipchart paper (in hindsight I definitely needed a bigger table); my massive box of felt tips and my notebook. I took chaotically organised notes on my flipchart paper, as each speaker delivered their talk. I attempted to colour-code each speaker so I would know what correlated to who. I then made mental links between the talks- which words, phrases, and feelings were repeated? Certain lines, phrases and words caught my eye so I wrote those neatly into my notebook to be potential lines within the poem.
At lunch, I was exhausted. I had planned to spend the lunch hour composing this brain dump of words into something that formed a poem, and I could then use the afternoon sessions to develop and add as the talks continued. However, life has a way of just causing you to throw all plans out of the window- my boyfriend needed me to pick him up and drop him off. There goes my plans for getting my poem ready during lunch. I powerwalked through the building, across the square and to the car. I prayed that this spot would still be here when I got back. I sped there and back, arriving back at the car park 15 minutes before the event started again. My car parking spot was not there, but there was another!
After 5 minutes of wiggling in and out and adjusting and a lot of swearing, I clambered back out of the passenger door and powerwalked to the Town Hall once again. I grabbed my lunch from the speaker's room, but stress had consumed me and I couldn’t even think about eating. I was immediately mic’d up when I walked back into The Crypt and talked to the sound technician as his father was also a poet. This made me feel so much better, hearing someone refer to someone else as a poet. I’m not sure exactly why but that moment gave me some career validation.
I returned to my little corner and stared at my notes before just beginning to write, playing with lines and words and repetitions that I believed captured the essence of TedxWomen.
Once I had this first draft complete, I took the less time-consuming option of typing it out on my phone and made multiple edits to improve flow, rhythm and wording. I whispered it aloud, over and over to myself to hear how it sounded and to make the improvements that I believed were needed. This all took place whilst I was simultaneously listening and watching the afternoon’s speakers, noting down anything that they also said that I thought needed to be included and then including that in the poem. At this point, I was really enjoying myself. My brain had never been so stimulated and challenged, and although the pressure was overwhelming I genuinely thought I’d created something pretty damn good.
As the second to last speaker came on stage, I began panicking. I had approximately half an hour to finalise this poem, write it out onto cue cards and then perform it. It was around this time that the doubts crept in; I could feel tears in my eyes and I looked towards the exit a couple of times too. I had to have a serious pep talk with myself. I am doing this because someone, no, multiple people believe in me. I have had incredible support, training and mentorship as a poet and writer. I know that I can do this because I’ve done it before. People want to hear my take on the day, and they want to hear my words. I can absolutely do this. I reflected back on the past year and mentally ticked off all the things I had done that had been a step up to this, all of the times I had breached my comfort zone and travelled far beyond it. Then I wrote the poem out on cue cards. Three times. I wasn’t happy with a fair few parts of version one; version two was lacking something and version three, well let’s just say I was still editing it as I was introduced and invited on stage.
Ben Pechey, the amazing host for the day, gave me a fabulous introduction. They finished this speech by announcing that this was a “UK First if not world first” as I walked onto the stage. Forgetting that I had a mic attached to my face, I muttered something like “no pressure then” and was met with a chorus of laughter. I quickly gathered my professional self together and gave some thanks to the speakers, organisers and audience for giving me so much wonderful material to work with before delving straight into the poem.
Under three minutes I was on stage for, and yet it felt like hours. I could self-critique my performance for days, but the audience gave me such a warm and genuine standing ovation that it honestly overcame any of my doubts. I did scuttle off stage as quickly as I could, not wanting to bask in the limelight anymore but I was buzzing. I slinked back to my corner and enjoyed the rest of the outros before packing up my belongings; chatting to a few people and driving home.
And here is the finished poem, in its entirety.
Thank you so much TedxWomen Teesside, it was truly an honour.
Ps: If you're interested in having me as a poetic notetaker/poet in residence for your business, organisation or event; feel free to drop me a message here!
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