Spoken Word Poetry

For most of us, just the thought of standing in front of a crowd makes us break into cold sweat. Our knees buckle, our hands become clammy and our throat turns dry. Most especially, we have this uncanny deep hollow feeling in the pit of our stomach. Yes, those are the signs of stage fright or just plain nervousness. If you said yes to all the signs I just mentioned, do not worry; it happens to everyone at some point.

Sarah Kay is young woman who is not afraid to be heard. She is promoting spoken word poetry and at the same time, co-directing Project VOICE (Vocal Outreach Into Creative Expression). Her idea is that we should use poetry to understand the things that we have difficulty fathoming. In her speech, she mentions the three steps of her journey in spoken word poetry: “I can…,” “I will…,” and “to write what you know”.

Listen to her TED speech which is both clever and inspirational.



Below is the transcript of her script.
If I should have a daughter, instead of Mom, she's gonna call me Point B, because that way she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I'm going to paint solar systems on the backs of her hands, so she has to learn the entire universe before she can say, "Oh, I know that like the back of my hand." And she's going to learn that this life will hit you hard in the face, wait for you to get back up just so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt here that cannot be fixed by Band-Aids or poetry. So the first time she realizes that Wonder Woman isn't coming, I'll make sure she knows she doesn't have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I've tried. "And, baby," I'll tell her, don't keep your nose up in the air like that. I know that trick; I've done it a million times. You're just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house, so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else find the boy who lit the fire in the first place, to see if you can change him." But I know she will anyway, so instead I'll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, because there is no heartbreak that chocolate can't fix. Okay, there's a few heartbreaks that chocolate can't fix. But that's what the rain boots are for. Because rain will wash away everything, if you let it. I want her to look at the world through the underside of a glass-bottom boat, to look through a microscope at the galaxies that exist on the pinpoint of a human mind, because that's the way my mom taught me. That there'll be days like this. ? There'll be days like this, my momma said. ? When you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises; when you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you want to save are the ones standing on your cape; when your boots will fill with rain, and you'll be up to your knees in disappointment. And those are the very days you have all the more reason to say thank you. Because there's nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it's swept away. You will put the wind in windsome, lose some. You will put the star in starting over, and over. And no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute, be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life. And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting, I am pretty damn naive. But I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily, but don't be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it. "Baby," I'll tell her, "remember, your momma is a worrier, and your poppa is a warrior, and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more." Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things. And always apologize when you've done something wrong. But don't you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining. Your voice is small, but don't ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street-corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.

Thank you. Thank you.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)

Thanks.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)

All right, so I want you to take a moment, and I want you to think of three things that you know to be true. They can be about whatever you want -- technology, entertainment, design, your family, what you had for breakfast. The only rule is don't think too hard. Okay, ready? Go. Okay.

So here are three things I know to be true. I know that Jean-Luc Godard was right when he said that, "a good story has a beginning, a middle and an end, although not necessarily in that order." I know that I'm incredibly nervous and excited to be up here, which is greatly inhibiting my ability to keep it cool. (Laughter) And I know that I have been waiting all week to tell this joke. (Laughter) Why was the scarecrow invited to TED? Because he was out standing in his field. (Laughter) I'm sorry. Okay, so these are three things I know to be true. But there are plenty of things I have trouble understanding. So I write poems to figure things out. Sometimes the only way I know how to work through something is by writing a poem. And sometimes I get to the end of the poem and look back and go, "Oh, that's what this is all about." And sometimes I get to the end of the poem and haven't solved anything, but at least I have a new poem out of it.

Spoken word poetry is the art of performance poetry. I tell people it involves creating poetry that doesn't just want to sit on paper, that something about it demands it be heard out loud or witnessed in person. When I was a freshman in high school, I was a live wire of nervous hormones. And I was underdeveloped and over-excitable. And despite my fear of ever being looked at for too long, I was fascinated by the idea of spoken word poetry. I felt that my two secret loves, poetry and theatre, had come together, had a baby, a baby I needed to get to know. So I decided to give it a try. My first spoken word poem, packed with all the wisdom of a 14 year-old, was about the injustice of being seen as unfeminine. The poem was very indignant, and mainly exaggerated, but the only spoken word poetry that I had seen up until that point was mainly indignant, so I thought that that's what was expected of me. The first time that I performed the audience of teenagers hooted and hollered their sympathy, and when I came off the stage I was shaking. I felt this tap on my shoulder, and I turned around to see this giant girl in a hoodie sweatshirt emerge from the crowd. She was maybe eight feet tall and looked like she could beat me up with one hand, but instead she just nodded at me and said, "Hey, I really felt that. Thanks." And lightning struck. I was hooked.

I discovered this bar on Manhattan's Lower East Side that hosted a weekly poetry open mic, and my bewildered, but supportive, parents took me to soak in every ounce of spoken word that I could. I was the youngest by at least a decade, but somehow the poets at the Bowery Poetry Club didn't seem bothered by the 14 year-old wandering about -- if fact, they welcomed me. And it was here, listening to these poets share their stories that I learned that spoken word poetry didn't have to be indignant, it could be fun or painful or serious or silly. The Bowery Poetry Club became my classroom and my home. And the poets who performed encouraged me to share my stories as well. Never mind the fact that I was 14 -- they told me, "Write about being 14." So I did and stood amazed every week when these brilliant, grown-up poets laughed with me and groaned their sympathy and clapped and told me, "Hey, I really felt that too."

Now I can divide my spoken word journey into three steps. Step one was the moment I said, "I can. I can do this." And that was thanks to a girl in a hoodie. Step two was the moment I said, "I will. I will continue. I love spoken word. I will keep coming back week after week." And step three began when I realized that I didn't have to write poems that were indignant, if that's not what I was. There were things that were specific to me, and the more that I focused on those things, the weirder my poetry got, but the more that it felt like mine. It's not just the adage "write what you know," it's about gathering up all of the knowledge and experience you've collected up to now to help you dive into the things you don't know. I use poetry to help me work through what I don't understand, but I show up to each new poem with a backpack full of everywhere else that I've been.

When I got to university, I met a fellow poet who shared my belief in the magic of spoken word poetry. And actually, Phil Kaye and I coincidentally also share the same last name. When I was in high school I had created Project V.O.I.C.E. as a way to encourage my friends to do spoken word with me. But Phil and I decided to reinvent project V.O.I.C.E. -- this time changing the mission to using spoken word poetry as a way to entertain, educate and inspire. We stayed full-time students, but in between we traveled, performing and teaching nine year-olds to MFA candidates, from California to Indiana to India to a public high school just up the street from campus.

And we saw over and over the way that spoken word poetry cracks open locks. But it turns out sometimes, poetry can be really scary. Turns out sometimes, you have to trick teenagers into writing poetry. So I came up with lists. Everyone can write lists. And the first list that I assign is "10 Things I Know to be True." And here's what happens, and here's what you would discover too if we all started sharing our lists out loud. At a certain point, you would realize that someone has the exact same thing, or one thing very similar, to something on your list. And then someone else has something the complete opposite of yours. Third, someone has something you've never even heard of before. And fourth, someone has something you thought you knew everything about, but they're introducing a new angle of looking at it. And I tell people that this is where great stories start from -- these four intersections of what you're passionate about and what others might be invested in.

And most people respond really well to this exercise. But one of my students, a freshman named Charlotte, was not convinced. Charlotte was very good at writing lists, but she refused to write any poems. "Miss," she'd say, "I'm just not interesting. I don't have anything interesting to say." So I assigned her list after list, and one day I assigned the list "10 Things I Should Have Learned by Now." Number three on Charlotte's list was, "I should have learned not to crush on guys three times my age." I asked her what that meant, and she said, "Miss, it's kind of a long story." And I said, "Charlotte, it sounds pretty interesting to me." And so she wrote her first poem, a love poem unlike any I had ever heard before. And the poem began, "Anderson Cooper is a gorgeous man." (Laughter) "Did you see him on 60 Minutes, racing Michael Phelps in a pool -- nothing but swim trunks on -- diving in the water, determined to beat this swimming champion? After the race, he tossed his wet, cloud-white hair and said, 'You're a god.' No, Anderson, you're the god."

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Now I know that the number one rule to being cool is to seem unfazed, to never admit that anything scares you or impresses you or excites you. Somebody once told me it's like walking through life like this. You protect yourself from all the unexpected miseries or hurt that might show up. But I try to walk through life like this. And yes, that means catching all of those miseries and hurt, but it also means that when beautiful, amazing things just fall out of the sky, I'm ready to catch them. I use spoken word to help my students rediscover wonder, to fight their instincts to be cool and unfazed and, instead, actively pursue being engaged with what goes on around them, so that they can reinterpret and create something from it.

It's not that I think that spoken word poetry is the ideal art form. I'm always trying to find the best way to tell each story. I write musicals, I make short films alongside my poems. But I teach spoken word poetry because it's accessible. Not everyone can read music or own a camera, but everyone can communicate in some way, and everyone has stories that the rest of us can learn from. Plus, spoken word poetry allows for immediate connections. It's not uncommon for people to feel that they're alone or that nobody understands them, but spoken word teaches that if you have the ability to express yourself and the courage to present those stories and opinions, you could be rewarded with a room full of your peers, or your community, who will listen. And maybe even a giant girl in a hoodie will connect with what you've shared. And that is an amazing realization to have, especially when you're 14. Plus, now with YouTube, that connection's not even limited to the room we're in. I'm so lucky that there's this archive of performances that I can share with my students. It allows for even more opportunities for them to find a poet or a poem that they connect to.

It is tempting -- once you've figured this out -- it is tempting to keep writing the same poem, or keep telling the same story, over and over, once you've figured out that it will gain you applause. It's not enough to just teach that you can express yourself; you have to grow and explore and take risks and challenge yourself. And that is step three: infusing the work you're doing with the specific things that make you you, even while those things are always changing. Because step three never ends. But you don't get to start on step three, until you take step one first: I can.

I travel a lot while I'm teaching, and I don't always get to watch all of my students reach their step three, but I was very lucky with Charlotte, that I got to watch her journey unfold the way it did. I watched her realize that, by putting the things that she knows to be true into the work she's doing, she can create poems that only Charlotte can write -- about eyeballs and elevators and Dora the Explorer. And I'm trying to tell stories only I can tell -- like this story. I spent a lot of time thinking about the best way to tell this story, and I wondered if the best way was going to be a PowerPoint or a short film -- and where exactly was the beginning or the middle or the end? And I wondered whether I'd get to the end of this talk and finally have figured it all out, or not.

And I always thought that my beginning was at the Bowery Poetry Club, but it's possible that it was much earlier. In preparing for TED, I discovered this diary page in an old journal. I think December 54th was probably supposed to be 24th. It's clear that when I was a child, I definitely walked through life like this. I think that we all did. I would like to help others rediscover that wonder -- to want to engage with it, to want to learn, to want to share what they've learned, what they've figured out to be true and what they're still figuring out.

So I'd like to close with this poem.

When they bombed Hiroshima, the explosion formed a mini-supernova, so every living animal, human or plant that received direct contact with the rays from that sun was instantly turned to ash. And what was left of the city soon followed. The long-lasting damage of nuclear radiation caused an entire city and its population to turn into powder. When I was born, my mom says I looked around the whole hospital room with a stare that said, "This? I've done this before." She says I have old eyes. When my Grandpa Genji died, I was only five years old, but I took my mom by the hand and told her, "Don't worry, he'll come back as a baby." And yet, for someone who's apparently done this already, I still haven't figured anything out yet. My knees still buckle every time I get on a stage. My self-confidence can be measured out in teaspoons mixed into my poetry, and it still always tastes funny in my mouth. But in Hiroshima, some people were wiped clean away, leaving only a wristwatch or a diary page. So no matter that I have inhibitions to fill all my pockets, I keep trying, hoping that one day I'll write a poem I can be proud to let sit in a museum exhibit as the only proof I existed. My parents named me Sarah, which is a biblical name. In the original story God told Sarah she could do something impossible and she laughed, because the first Sarah, she didn't know what to do with impossible. And me? Well, neither do I, but I see the impossible every day. Impossible is trying to connect in this world, trying to hold onto others while things are blowing up around you, knowing that while you're speaking, they aren't just waiting for their turn to talk -- they hear you. They feel exactly what you feel at the same time that you feel it. It's what I strive for every time I open my mouth -- that impossible connection. There's this piece of wall in Hiroshima that was completely burnt black by the radiation. But on the front step, a person who was sitting there blocked the rays from hitting the stone. The only thing left now is a permanent shadow of positive light. After the A bomb, specialists said it would take 75 years for the radiation damaged soil of Hiroshima City to ever grow anything again. But that spring, there were new buds popping up from the earth. When I meet you, in that moment, I'm no longer a part of your future. I start quickly becoming part of your past. But in that instant, I get to share your present. And you, you get to share mine. And that is the greatest present of all. So if you tell me I can do the impossible, I'll probably laugh at you. I don't know if I can change the world yet, because I don't know that much about it -- and I don't know that much about reincarnation either, but if you make me laugh hard enough, sometimes I forget what century I'm in. This isn't my first time here. This isn't my last time here. These aren't the last words I'll share. But just in case, I'm trying my hardest to get it right this time around.

Thank you.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)

Thank you.

(Applause)



Sources:
http://www.ted.com/talks/sarah_kay_if_i_should_have_a_daughter.html
http://www.ted.com/speakers/sarah_kay.html
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0snNB1yS3IE

Amazing Japanese People 日本人ってすごい！

It has been three days after the earthquake and every now and then, we are still experiencing aftershocks. In plain language, I haven't slept well in the last three days. How could I when my apartment sways with each and every jolt? It is as if it's practicing its dance routine for the next episode of Fox TV show "So You Think You Can Dance."

When the earthquake hit, I really thought it was the end (not wanting to sound melodramatic but I really thought it was). I quietly said a prayer to the Almighty as I watched the electric poles sway to the music Mother Nature is playing. Maybe it was after the third shake that I found myself right in front of the nearest station to my house. Amidst all that chaos, I still had the sense to grab my coat, wallet, some food and water, most importantly my passport. The idea that I need to withdraw some money made me run all the way in less than 3 minutes (which was surprising because it usually takes me 5 minutes to run that distance when I am trying to catch the morning train... the wonders of adrenaline!).

As I was about to insert my ATM card, the ground shook once more. The Japanese man outside the convenience store knocked on the glass wall and shouted for everyone to get out. I did. When I surveyed the area, I saw that a lot of people were gathered near the big open space in front of the train tracks. As I copied what the Japanese women (I sat and stood up when they did), I realized they were watching something calmly. When I looked up, I saw to my horror that there were two huge cranes dancing the tango on top of an ongoing condominium or building construction. Yikes! All we could do was stare with mouth wide open and hope this sight doesn't turn into a nightmare.

The feeling of helplessness really sank in when I couldn't call anyone using my smartphone. However, amidst all the chaos of the earthquake, aftershocks and radiation, one thing really proved its usefulness... Social media. The moment I realized that the Internet can still be accessed, I posted a message in my Facebook account this simple status, "that scared me big time." Simple and direct yet my words shouted everything I couldn't say at that time. From then on, family members and friends across the globe knew that I was safe and the messages started to pour in. They were all concerned especially when CNN showed some footages about the tsunami. According to my mother, some of our relatives and friends called our house to check up on my well-being. At that moment, my heart overflowed with gratitude.

I stayed in the open space until I could tolerate the biting cold. After an hour or so, I went back to my apartment and turned on the TV. That was when the gravity of the situation hit me. Then, I realized that I don't have the right to complain. The images and videos being shown on TV were heart-wrenching. I cannot put into words what I felt at that time when I saw the wave crashing down on the houses and engulfing everything in its path.

What happened last Friday is a very humbling experience. In a country that has been preparing for such event for several years, Mother Nature once again showed us that no amount of technology and artificial intelligence can outsmart her or even exactly predict what is about to come. However, I believe that the spirit of all the people in Japan will prevail.


◆日本人ってすごい！◆


原子力発電所の被害とともに、絶え間ない余震、気象庁の予測などが重くのしかかっているなか、私たちに起こっている良いことにも目を向けてみましょう。

もしこの災害が他の国（私の国を含めて）で起こったのなら、もっと違った風景になったでしょう。この災害に直面した時の日本人の規律と冷静さは賞賛に値します。人々に威厳、他の人に対する敬意と心遣いは素晴らしいですね。

近くのスーパーに食料と水を買いに行ったとき、お店の店員さんはいつもどおりでした。3/11の地震の前とおんなじ様にお客さんに挨拶していました。びっくりです。

仕事のあと家に帰るとき、お昼のために肉まんを買いにコンビニに立ち寄りました。カウンターの後ろにいる人たちは、この前の金曜日にお金をおろそうとしてきたときと同じ人たちでした。彼らはまるで私が昼食の支払いをしたかのように挨拶してくれました。コンビニを出るとき「Take care（注意してくださいね）」というと、その女性はにっこりして私に同じ事を言ってくれました。すごい！

私の女性の生徒さんの一人が、地震の次の日に東京で電車を待っていた時のことを話してくれました。彼女によると、電車を待っていた人たちは、駅員さんの指示がたびたび変更されるにもかかわらず、忍耐強く並んで待っていたそうです。誰も割り込みなんかしませんでしたと彼女は付け加えました。信じられない！

計画停電のとき、信号が消えていてもドライバーは誰もそれを利用してずるしようとしませんでした。彼らはとても礼儀正しかった。目的地に着くのに何時間もかかるにもかかわらず、車線を乱したりしないのです。すばらしい！

電車が止まってしまったため、多くの人たちが東京で足留めされてしまいました。多くの人たちが家にたどり着くためだけのために、寒空の下何時間も歩きました。びっくりです。

需要と供給の法則はお店では通用しませんでした。食料品店の中のパン屋さんは価格を引き上げる代わりに、価格を引き下げました。
すべてのパンが98円で売られていました。なんてすごいの！


私の地域で、警察官は目立っていませんでしたが、略奪の気配はありませんでした。日本人の中では略奪という言葉が無いのだと思いました。すごい！

地震に襲われ、生存者の救助に追われ、地震と津波によってもたらされた莫大な損害からの復旧に努め、原発からの放射線の軽減に努めている国において、ともすると希望の兆しを見つけるのは難しいことです。でも、私達が今すべきことは、周囲を見回すことです。

日本にとって日本人こそがたからものなのです。

Scary Friday

It has been three days after the earthquake and every now and then, we are still experiencing aftershocks. In plain language, I haven't slept well in the last three days. How could I when my apartment sways with each and every jolt? It is as if it's practicing its dance routine for the next episode of Fox TV show "So You Think You Can Dance."

When the earthquake hit, I really thought it was the end (not wanting to sound melodramatic but I really thought it was). I quietly said a prayer to the Almighty as I watched the electric poles sway to the music Mother Nature is playing. Maybe it was after the third shake that I found myself right in front of the nearest station to my house. Amidst all that chaos, I still had the sense to grab my coat, wallet, some food and water, most importantly my passport. The idea that I need to withdraw some money made me run all the way in less than 3 minutes (which was surprising because it usually takes me 5 minutes to run that distance when I am trying to catch the morning train... the wonders of adrenaline!).

As I was about to insert my ATM card, the ground shook once more. The Japanese man outside the convenience store knocked on the glass wall and shouted for everyone to get out. I did. When I surveyed the area, I saw that a lot of people were gathered near the big open space in front of the train tracks. As I copied what the Japanese women (I sat and stood up when they did), I realized they were watching something calmly. When I looked up, I saw to my horror that there were two huge cranes dancing the tango on top of an ongoing condominium or building construction. Yikes! All we could do was stare with mouth wide open and hope this sight doesn't turn into a nightmare.

The feeling of helplessness really sank in when I couldn't call anyone using my smartphone. However, amidst all the chaos of the earthquake, aftershocks and radiation, one thing really proved its usefulness... Social media. The moment I realized that the Internet can still be accessed, I posted a message in my Facebook account this simple status, "that scared me big time." Simple and direct yet my words shouted everything I couldn't say at that time. From then on, family members and friends across the globe knew that I was safe and the messages started to pour in. They were all concerned especially when CNN showed some footages about the tsunami. According to my mother, some of our relatives and friends called our house to check up on my well-being. At that moment, my heart overflowed with gratitude.

I stayed in the open space until I could tolerate the biting cold. After an hour or so, I went back to my apartment and turned on the TV. That was when the gravity of the situation hit me. Then, I realized that I don't have the right to complain. The images and videos being shown on TV were heart-wrenching. I cannot put into words what I felt at that time when I saw the wave crashing down on the houses and engulfing everything in its path.

What happened last Friday is a very humbling experience. In a country that has been preparing for such event for several years, Mother Nature once again showed us that no amount of technology and artificial intelligence can outsmart her or even exactly predict what is about to come. However, I believe that the spirit of all the people in Japan will prevail.

International Women's Day (March 8)

Yesterday (March 8) was the centennial celebration of the International Women's Day with the global United Nation theme, "Equal access to education, training and science and technology: Pathway to decent work for women".



Women around the world (USA, Canada, United Kingdom, India, Europe) have come together to celebrate this day with talks, debates, exhibits, etc. The Web was also bombarded with a lot of interesting articles about the 100th anniversary of International Women's Day.

Arianna Huffington of The Huffington Post wrote an article about her mother.

TIME Magazine released a photo essay featuring 16 of History's Most Rebellious Women in the world.

Eve Ensler, founder of V-day which is a global movement to end violence against women and children, created a poem entitled Refuser. Below is a copy of the poem.


REFUSER
From the Lebanese mountains
To the Kenyan village of El Doret
We are practicing self-defense
Versed in Karate, Tai Chi, Judo, and Kung Foo
We are no longer surrendering to our fate.

Now, we are the ones who walk our girl friends home from school.
And we don't do it with macho. We do it with cool.

Our mothers are the Pink Sari Gang
Fighting off the drunken men
With rose pointed fingers and sticks in
Uttar Pradesh.
The Peshmerga women
in the Kurdish mountains
with barrettes in their hair
and AK47's instead of pocket books.

We are not waiting anymore to be taken and retaken.

We are the Liberian women sitting
in the Africa sun blockading the exits
til the men figure it out.

We are the Nigerian women
babies strapped to out backs
occupying the oil terminals of Chevron.
We are the women of Kerala
who refused to let Coca Cola
privatize our water.
We are Cindy Sheehan showing up in Crawford without a plan.
We are all those who forfeited husbands boyfriends and dates
Cause we were married to our mission.
We know love comes from all directions and in many forms.
We are Malalai who spoke back to the Afghan Loya Jurga
And told them they were "raping warlords" and
She kept speaking even when they kept
trying to blow up her house.
And we are Zoya whose radical mother was shot dead when Zoya was only a child so she was fed on revolution which was stronger than milk

And we are the ones who kept and loved our babies
even though they have the faces of our rapists.

We are the girls who stopped cutting ourselves to release the pain
And we are the girls who refused to have our clitoris cut
And give up our pleasure.

We are:
Rachel Corrie who wouldn't couldn't move away from the Israeli tank.
Aung San Suu Kyi who still smiles after years of not being able to leave her room.
Anne Frank who survives now cause she wrote down her story.
We are Neda Soltani gunned down by a sniper in the streets of
Tehran as she voiced a new freedom and way
And we are Asmaa Mahfouz from the April 6th movement in Egypt
Who twittered an uprising.

We are the women riding the high seas to offer
Needy women abortions on ships.
We are women documenting the atrocities
in stadiums with video cameras underneath our Burqas.
We are seventeen and living for a year in a tree
And laying down in the forests to protect wild oaks.
We are out at sea interrupting the whale murders.
We are freegans, vegans, trannies
But mainly we are refusers.
We don't accept your world
Your rules your wars
We don't accept your cruelty and unkindness.
We don't believe some need to suffer for others to survive
Or that there isn't enough to go around
Or that corporations are the only and best economic arrangement
And we don't hate boys, okay?
That's another bullshit story.

We are refusers
But we crave kissing.
We don't want to do anything before we're ready
but it could be sooner than you think
and we get to decide
and we are not afraid of what is pulsing through us.
It makes us alive.

Don't deny us, criticize us or infantilize us.
We don't accept checkpoints, blockades or air raids
We are obsessed with learning.
On the barren Tsunamied beaches of Sri Lanka
In the desolate and smelly remains
Of the lower ninth
We want school.
We want school.
We want school.

We know if you plan too long
Nothing happens and things get worse and that
Most everything is found in the action
and instinctively we get that the scariest thing
isn't dying, but not trying at all.

And when we finally have our voice
and come together
when we let ourselves gather the knowledge
when we stop turning on each other
but direct our energy towards what matters
when we stop worrying about
our skinny ass stomachs or too frizzy hair
or fat thighs
when we stop caring about pleasing
and making everyone so incredibly happy-
We got the Power.

If
Janis Joplin was nominated the ugliest man on her campus
And they sent Angela Davis to jail
If Simone Weil had manly virtues
And Joan of Arc was hysterical
If Bella Abzug was eminently obnoxious
And Ellen Sirleaf Johnson is considered scary
If Arundhati Roy is totally intimidating
and Rigoberta Menchu is pathologically intense
And Julia Butterfly Hill is an extremist freak
Call us hysterical then
Fanatical
Eccentric
Delusional
Intimidating
Eminently obnoxious
Militant
Bitch
Freak
Tattoo me
Witch
Give us our broomsticks
And potions on the stove
We are the girls
who are aren't afraid to cook.



Sources:
http://www.internationalwomensday.com/default.asp
http://www.un.org/womenwatch/feature/iwd/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/eve-ensler/for-the-builders-the-plan_b_832654.html
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/international-womens-day-_7_b_832691.html
http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,2057714_2251980,00.html

Gummy Bears

After my class in Tokyo, my stomach is usually clamoring for attention.
Oh yes, it has happened during a class, even right in the middle of a discussion.
Talk about mortifying moments!

But I have found a solution to this little problem.
And I would like to share with you what is saving me for having those humiliating sounds coming from my tummy... GUMMY BEARS!!




Every week I buy a packet at a shop in Ueno station.
Munching on these small goodies makes my tummy silent.
Thus, no embarrassing moments in class or even in the train.

Check out this very cute video about gummy bears.
Try singing along to the very catchy tune.





This video has been translated into different languages... French, Swedish, Portugese, German ... and even in Japanese.




Sources:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=astISOttCQ0

Baby Steps

E: Emery R: Ruriko K: Kazuya

In the classroom.

E: We go now to the next question. What is Sue's motto in
life?
Ruriko leafed through the pages of her book until she came
across the answer.
R: "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
E: That's right. Well, a motto or tenet is a brief statement
expressing a principle, goal or ideal. Going back to Sue's
motto, can you share your thoughts about it?

After a few seconds of silence.

R: It means ‘you can't expect to achieve anything,
if you never take any risks.’
E: Capital answer Ruriko!
K: Or to put it in other words, ‘if you don't put effort
into something, you won't gain anything. ‘
E: Yeah, that's correct.
K: I can relate to that. As you know, I am a boxing instructor
and I say this line to my students time and again.
R: That takes a lot of discipline.
K: You bet. Though achieving something does not happen
overnight.
E: Agree. There is actually no easy road to success.
How about you Ruriko, any examples?

Ruriko pondered for a while.

R: My friend took the risk of being transferred to
a foreign country for business a year ago. He told me
that he gained a lot of business experiences and got to
practice his English a lot.
K: Wow, he is a risk taker.
R: Though he admitted it was not that easy.
E: Some experiences are like passing through an eye of
a needle. The important thing is we can have baby steps
in achieving our goals.
K: Right. So Ruriko, will you give traveling to an English
speaking country a try?
R: Oh well, that's one of my goals in the future. For now,
I am going to make baby steps in my English class.
OK Emery, give us additional homework please?
K: Why us? (hands resting on his hips)
R: (surprised at what she said) Oh no, I mean give me additional
homework Emery.
E: You almost forgot Kazuya is a boxing instructor. Ha ha.





●Vocabulary

★baby steps　小さな前進、わずかな進歩
★motto　モットー、座右の銘
★leaf through　（本などのページを）素早くめくる、
～をパラパラめくって目を通す
★ventured　思い切って～する、危険を冒して～をする
★tenet（宗教や政治の基本的な）教義、信条
★principle　主義、信条、理念
★ideal　理想、理念
★capital　素晴らしい、優れている
★put it in another way　別の表現/形に言い換える
★relate（人や物同士を）結び付ける、関連付ける
★time and again　何回も、何度も何度も、繰り返し繰り返し
★discipline（鍛錬によって得られる）自制（克己）心
★does not happen overnight　一晩で（簡単に）できるものではない
★no easy road to success　成功への道は険しい
★ponder　じっくり考える、思案する
★risk taker　危険を冒す人、リスクを負う人
★passing through an eye of a needle　極めて困難なことをすること





"小さな前進"

E: エメリー R: ルリコ K: カズヤ

クラスルームにて。

E: じゃあ次の質問ね。スーの人生における座右の銘は何？

ルリコは答えを見つけるまでテキストのページに目を通した。

R: 「冒険しなければ何も得られない。」
E: その通り。座右の銘または信条というのは、主義や目標、
理念を表した簡潔に言及したもののこと。スーのモットー
に話を戻すわね、それについての2人の考えはどう？

数秒間、沈黙した後。

R: それって「思い切ってやってみなけらば、何も成し得ない」
ってことよね。
E: 素晴らしい答えね、ルリコ！
K: もしくは言い換えると、「努力しなければ、何も得ることは
できない」ってこと。
E: ええ、その通り。
K: それよくわかるよ。知っての通り、僕はボクシングのインスト
ラクターをしていて生徒にこの台詞を何度となく言ってる
からね。
R: それってかなりの自制を要するわね。
K: もちろん。簡単できるものじゃないけどね。
E: 賛成。実際、成功への道は険しいってこと。あなたはどう、
ルリコ？ 何か例はある？

ルリコはしばらく考え込む。

R: 友達が、一年前海外転勤するっていうリスクを負うことに
なったの。 彼、たくさんのビジネス経験を得て、英語も死ぬ
ほど練習したって言ってたわ。
K: ワオ、彼、危険を冒すね。
R: そんなに簡単なことではないって認めてたけど。
E: 極めて困難な経験ってあるわよね。重要なことは、目標に
向かって少しずつ前進することよ。
K: そうそう。じゃあ、ルリコ、英語圏の国へ旅行に行ってみる？
R: ええ、そうね。それ将来の目標のひとつだもの。でも
とりあえずは、英語クラスでの前進ね。はい、じゃエメリー、
私たちに追加の宿題を出して。
K: えっ、なんで僕たちなの？(手を腰に当てて）
R:（自分の行ったことに驚き）あー違うの、私に追加の宿題を
出してってこと、エメリー。
E: カズヤがボクシングのインストラクターってこと忘れるところ
だったわね。
　 ハハハ。

CEO

Before I came to Japan, I had the luxury of driving a car to work everyday.
I didn't need to use the public transportation nor walk under the sweltering heat of the sun during summers.
Yes, I had my own set of wheels: I was very mobile.
Thus, it became a huge problem when I arrived in Japan.
I felt very helpless.

I had to learn how to take the public transportation.
If not, I would be at my friends' mercy for a ride to a place where I need to go.
Since the latter seemed to be not a good idea, I learned and walked through rain or shine .

We were given the ability to adapt.
Our adaptability skills would help us cope up with some bad situations we might find ourselves in.
Have you had the need to adapt to a situation recently?

I found this example...
Japan Airlines' CEO, Haruka Nishimatsu, was featured in a video clip showing how well he adapts to the bad situation his company is in.
The clip showed how he shared the burden and hardship of his fellow employees.



He was heavily compared to the American CEOs who filed for bankruptcy a while back and received a lot of criticism because of their extravagant lifestyles. Check this out.





Sources:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qj7ZHrYL28M
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8iiN-eiJXqw

Telephone Conversation in English

One of the greatest inventions of the industrial revolution is the telephone.
Communication has never been this easier since the introduction of this marvelous device in our lives.
Gone are the days that we have to rely on pigeons to deliver messages... or even men on horses.
All we have to do is dial the number and we are connected to the person we wish to speak to.

However, for some non-English speakers using the phone sometimes can be a nightmare.
When some people are put in the spot to speak English, they only have two options. First option is to do their best to get their message across.
The other one is to just hang up.

In my more than three years of working in Japan, I have had my share of hang ups and determined people who try to convene their messages.
I applaud the latter.

So this is my idea to help out the others who haven't had the courage to try yet... Watch the video from podEnglish and learn some phrases useful in telephone conversation situations.



I hope next time you would try to speak in English.
Try and give us a call at 048-649-6588... you can use the words and expressions you just learned.



Sources:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-W6dXfm7YE

Who is the best dressed of them all?

What has been the buzz lately?
It's the Oscars.
Actually, some people do not watch the show to see who wins the "Best ____" award.
I think the more interesting part of the Oscars is the parade of the stars as they walk down the red carpet.
Oh yes! TV shows, newspapers and online sites go crazy picking out the losers and the champs based on how the celebrities look.
The fashion police is alert.
Here are just some notable celebrities in their red carpet ensemble.
Take your pick...


Halle Berry in Marchesa



Natalie Portman in Rodarte



Mila Kunis in Elie Saab



Jennifer Hudson in Versace



Hillary Swank in Gucci


Anne Hathaway in Givenchy



Mirror... Mirror on the wall... Who do you think is the best dressed of them all?




Sources:

http://smallscreenscoop.com
http://www.fashionfame.com
http://www.shoppingblog.com
http://i.huffpost.com
http://kara.allthingsd.com

DCEC reaching new hEIGHTs

On February 11, Japan celebrated its National Foundation Day. This March, it’s DCEC’s turn to commemorate its establishment. March 1st marks the beginning of DCEC’s eight year. So, join us in welcoming this momentous occasion with the theme “DCEC reaching new hEIGHTs!”

２月１１日は日本の祝日でしたね。この３月、DCECでは創設記念を迎えます。３月１日で創設８年目となります。そこで、「DCEC８周年！」をテーマにした記念行事に是非ご参加ください。

Everyone is encouraged to join the festivities before or after your classes from March 1 to 7. We have prepared a short game of trivial pursuit where you will be asked simple questions about DCEC. Exciting prizes and freebies await you! So, gear up and aim high with DCEC for we surely plan to reach success like never before.

３月１～７日の間、レッスンが始まる前や終わった後に、皆様ぜひ行事にご参加ください。ちょっとした豆知識ゲームを用意しますので、DCECに関する簡単なクイズにお答えください。楽しい賞品がもらえます！　DCECと今まで以上の成果を達成できるよう、高みを目指して頑張りましょう。

Happy anniversary to all of us!
皆様にとってもすばらしい記念日となりますように

Fingers crossed

Characters: F: Felicity; T: Tomo; M: Mac

In class

F: Hey, Tomo, you seem full of beans today.
T: Oh, am I that obvious? (grinning from ear to ear)
M: Let me guess... Someone gifted you with chocolates
as a post-Valentine gift?
T: Nah, I wish.
F: C'mon, spill the beans, Tomo!
T: (shaking his head) Nah-ah, my lips are sealed.

After more prodding...

T: OK, OK, I give up. (raising both hands) Well, tomorrow
is a big day!
M: Huh? What do you mean? Are you going to get a promotion
or something?
T: Nope. As you may already know, my wife is expecting
and she has a doctor's appointment tomorrow.
F: Aha! You will know by tomorrow whether you're having
a girl or a boy, am I right?
T: You hit the nail on the head.
F: I knew it! That's wonderful news, Tomo. Any
predictions?
M: Are you hoping for a girl or a little Tomo?
T: My wife says she thinks this one's going to be a
junior. I'm keeping my fingers crossed (winks).
M: Well, congratulations then! Let's just hope he gets
his looks from your wife.
F: You can say that again.

They all burst out laughing.





●Vocabulary

★fingers crossed‐幸運を祈る
★full of beans‐生き生きとしている
★obvious‐明らか、露骨に
★gifted with‐贈る
★post~‐～後
★nah‐いいえ、そうではない
★I wish‐願っている
★spill the beans‐うっかり秘密を漏らす
★nah-ah‐いやあ、ああ
★my lips are sealed‐秘密にしておく、漏らさない
★prodding‐催促する
★tomorrow is a big day‐明日はすごい日、重要な日
★promotion‐昇進、昇給
★expecting‐出産予定
★aha‐ああ
★hit the nail on the head‐まさにその通り
★junior‐息子
★looks‐容姿
★you can say that again‐まったくその通り、言えてる






■幸運を祈る

登場人物:　F:フェリシティ T:トモ　M:マック

教室にて

F: ねえトモ、今日すごく元気みたいね。
T: ああ、わかっちゃった？（満面の笑み）
M: 当てさせて・・・誰かにバレンタインチョコをプレゼントし
てもらったとか？
T: いやあ、だといいけど。
F: ちょっと、言っちゃいなさいよトモ！
T: (手を振って）いやまあ、秘密は漏らさないよ。

しばらくせっつかれたあと

T: わかったわかった、もう降参。(両手をあげる) 実は、明日は
大事な日なんだ！
M: へえ、どういう意味？　昇進するかなにか？
T: 違うって。もう知ってると思うけど、うちの奥さん妊娠中で、
明日医者の予約してるんだ。
F: ああ！　明日には、男の子か女の子かわかるのね？
T: まさにその通り。
F: やっぱり！　すばらしいニュースね、トモ。それで予想は？
M: 女の子か、それとも男の子がいいの？
T: 奥さんは男の子だと思うって言うんだ。僕は幸運を祈ってる
んだ。（ウインクする）
M: だとしたらおめでとう！　ただ坊やが奥さん似なことを祈り
　 ましょうね。
F: 全くその通り。

全員で大笑い。



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