HORRIBLY
OK, here's how the entire trip went:
My mother invited Ellen, [If you can remember,this is the woman who "baby sat" me when my parents were away almost a year ago.] and her 2 kids, Niko and Hannah.
The ride down was OK, minimal arguing [Although NO arguing would have happened were it just me and my mother; we get along just fine.] and only a few trip-ups in the time. We got down there just fine. On the way, we stopped off to see my girlfriend's 1 act play, which she did WONDERFUL in, getting BEST ACTRESS and her play getting second.
Anyway, we get down to the hotel, hang around for a while, then go to the slam.
We wait around at the slam for a while until it finally starts. 3 or 4 poets go up. Nearly ALL of them are rapping, something that's sort of iffy in REAL slams, but this, my friends, is a youth slam. Things are a little different here.
Almost EVERY SINGLE SLAMMER talked about being beat, or their mother's being beat. At a REAL slam, we'd call this PITY POETRY. It wouldn't have gotten anything more than a 6, maybe an 8 if the rhymes were any good, and the presentation was wonderful. These poor souls were getting 9s and 10s... all because they were beat as kids.
I'm sorry, but being beat and writing a poem about it isn't slam poetry, or even good poetry in itself. If you've got a message, or you say something important along with the poem, then damn, good poem. You LEARNED from your hardships.
Only ONE of the pity poets actually had a message to their poem. The rest of the poems were either racial or feminist poems. A lot of BAD poetry, basically. In almost ANY other scene, they would have gotten ****Y scores.
So I get on stage for my poem, right? No mic. They PROMISED there'd be a mic. the way the judges are, they won't hear me. I have a quieter voice because, like ANY REAL POET KNOWS:
YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE TO YELL FOR YOUR POETRY TO BE GOOD!
That's WHY we have mics at slams. That's even one of the KEY things they say on the ORIGINAL slam rules! The FOUNDERS of slam support the concept of using mics.
But no, they don't have mics. So I BELT my poem out, NOT how it's supposed to sound [This is the poem I uploaded for you guys to hear, by the way. Notice how I don't belt out any of it?] Anyway, the audience was ROLLING. People shook my hand after the entire slam and told me I was the funniest person they'd ever met. This is partially due to my second poem, but I'll get to that.
I got 1 9.5, and 4 8.5s. These are horrible scores for what my poem usually gets in ADULT slams, with people who've been doing it for 6 and 7 years. 8.5s are PITY points, usually.
So I immediatly start writing. I write a real fast fancy poem called "A note to the judges." where one of my key lines is "I don't need your pity to read poetry. Give this poem 2s and 4s, because I'll walk out the door with my dignity." The poem was HILARIOUS, and also said that "I don't need to have my dad beat me to write poetry" The judges got the entire satire in my voice, as I also went up to them and shook their hands to make sure they were cool, but I GUESS 2 or 3 of the poets didn't like this. Whatever, I really don't care.
I then read the poem I had PLANNED to read that night, and the audience loved it. I wheeled of stage with a standing ovation from the crowd. THAT'S how a slam is handled. Raw truth. That's the ENTIRE idea, is to say what people DON'T want to hear.
So I zoom outside with niko to catch a breath of fresh air, as I was VERY hot from performing. His mother FOLLOWS ME OUTSIDE AND BEGINS YELLING AT ME. She SCREAMS how selfish of a little **** I was, saying that I was beng rude by leaving and not listening to the rest of the poets [I had only planned to go outside for a few seconds for this exact reason, I was just burning up.] and that they 'came all the way down there for me' and that I'd let them down and whatnot. Mind you, she cussed her head off the entire time. All I repeatedly said was 'Go away.' and 'I don't have to justify anything to you.' I said 'I never invited you, so deal with it.'
So the slam gets over, I talk to several people, just to make sure they're not sore. MANY people, poets included, came up to me laughing saying "Man, you're a funny guy." and stuff like that.
We get back to th car. Ellen SCREAMS at me for a half of a ****ing hour. Her son gets out of the car, not wanting to listen to us argue, and kicks the tires and such trying to get us to go home. I attempt to argue my case, and say that I meant no disrespect and that overall, I was being satarical, which MANY people understood. My mother agreed with her, but was very adult like about it.
I endure a half an hour of being called names and whatnot, being told I'm acting like a 10 year old, and that the one time in my life that I wasn't handed something on a silver platter that I had to act like a dick about it. I remained respectful, didn't raise my voice, and replied to all of her points with pure logic.
What. The. ****.
When we FINALLY drop them off after a 3 hour car ride home the next morning, me and my mother talk.
My mother TOTALLY agrees with me that, yes, what I did was rude, but it was MY choice, and what I wanted to say. If Ellen hadn't been there, my mother would have said, very respecfully that she thought what I did was rude, and we would have discussed it like adults. I felt like Ellen was MORALLY POLICING ME, trying to tell me how my morals should be.
At one point I said "Our opinions differ, then. Let's leave it at that." Ellen's response was "**** you, you're wrong. That's why I'm yelling at you. You're WRONG." I even apoligized to her, and said I'd be e-mailing the poets in case they were offended and let them know I was joking. Her reply? "Obviously, you aren't sorry, because you left the room and totally disrespected the poets. **** you." I'd like to note that she REPEATEDLY said "**** you." and called me names.
I shouldn't have to justify myself or my actions to anyone but MYSELF. If any of those poets had come out there cussing at me, I would have understood. They had a right to. SHE, however, DIDN'T. You reep the seeds you sew, and I would have had to deal with whatever my actions ended in, right? Instead, I have to justify myself to the moral police, Ellen.
My entire amazing weekend went horrible because of this woman. I would have been totally cool with not getting in the top 10. In fact, I didn't really CARE about my score, I was just having fun, SLAMMING the judges, like you know, you're SUPPOSED to in a slam.
Anyway, I feel increadably attacked, and very disrespected right now. The worst part about it, is that I was the one who was respectable the whole time. The 17 year old "*******" that didn't care about anyone but himself, that "little ****."
JediKirby
ᵗʰᵉᵇˢᵍ๒ᵍᵐᵃᶥᶫ∙ᶜᵒᵐ
ᴸᶥᵛᵉ ᴼᵑ ᴬᵈᵃᵐ
Seriously, wow, looks like you've accomplished a lot considering you're only 17 and are confined to a wheelchair. Go for it Kirbs, make us proud! I write some poetry myself as you know, share some of yours with me sometime. Best of luck to you, I'm sure you've got plenty of talent. Care to explain how your previous poetry slams have gone? 
