Spoken Word Poetry, Accessibility, and Hearing Loss: My 2017 Spoken Word Immersion Grant from The Loft Literary Center

Last fall amid a panic attack and an episode of vertigo, I submitted an application to the Loft Literary Center to be considered for a 2017 Spoken Word Immersion Fellowship. The entire evening felt like riding a roller coaster with a sick stomach and it left me feeling as though the proposal was as terrible as the experience of getting my submission in. 

To my utter amazement, the fellowship judges felt differently. My deep gratitude goes out to them (Sham-e-Ali Nayeem, Danez Smith, and Marisa Carr), as well as Bao Phi and all the folks at The Loft Literary Center that make this rare opportunity for spoken word artists possible. And what a privilege to be in the company of the other brilliant selected Fellows: Saymoukda Duangphouxay Vongsay, Diego Vazquez and Marcie Rendon, and #BlackTransMagick (J Mase III & Vita E.).

My project is focused on: 1) learning from communities making poetry and art accessible to people who are D/deaf and hard of hearing; 2) connecting with other poets with disabilities; 3) sharing best practices with DC area spoken word event organizers; and 4) integrating ASL and lessons learned about disability poetics into my own writing and performance. It dovetails nicely with the publication of my first collection of poems, Flare, due out in late July. (Pre-order yours today at Finishing Line Press! The pre-sales period, which ends May 26, helps determine the number of books printed! )

Below is an overview of my fellowship proposal. If you have suggestions or want to be involved, contact me at thevisionwriter@gmail.com. To stay in the loop about this project or my other poetry pursuits, like me on Facebook (Poet Camisha Jones) or Twitter (@1Camisha).

*     *     *     *     *

In 2013, I moved to the DC area to take the position of Managing Director at Split ThisRock, a national non-profit devoted to cultivating, teaching, and celebrating poetry that bears witness to injustice and provokes change. I was excited both about the job and the expanded opportunities to be involved with the DC spoken word scene. Having entered the slam community in 2010 and competed at my first National Poetry Slam in 2013, I looked forward to the broad array of opportunities for me as a poet professionally and personally.

These last three years have come with much change for me, the most profound being escalating bouts of hearing loss from Meniere’s Disease (MD). MD flares coupled with ongoing episodes of chronic pain from fibromyalgia have meant that I’ve become distanced from the spoken word community. This community is where I really found my voice as an artist and a sense of family among poets so it’s been heartbreaking to lose the ability to connect with others as I would like. To fully engage with a poetry event, you need to understand what’s being said, on and off the stage, and oftentimes this is just not the case for me. There have been days my hearing is so distorted that even with sound amplification I am not able to comprehend speech. What's clear is the spoken word community has room to grow to better accommodate people who are D/deaf and hard of hearing.

Accessibility is more than restructured buildings (though, yes, let's have more of that too!). It is also how events and programs get implemented. For instance, in DC, it is rare to find a slam that includes American Sign Language (ASL) interpretation or that’s held in a venue that provides listening assistive devices or includes written handouts so people can read along. This means, although I’ve attended quite a lot of poetry slams and spoken word events over the last year, I’ve not understood a large portion of what gets shared at most of them. When I go online to watch spoken word videos, rarely are they sufficiently captioned. I find myself at a loss for how to stay connected to a community that I adore.

With this fellowship, I hope to grow as a poet by exploring D/deaf poetics and ways that performance poetry can better accommodate and elevate the voices of people within the D/deaf community. I will research best practices that already exist by reaching out to arts organizations with accessibilities initiatives and places that better accommodate the D/deaf community, such as Galludet University. With this information, I’ll reach out to spoken word event organizers in DC to share my findings and when feasible offer support and financial assistance in implementing changes.

I will connect with other poets who are D/deaf and hard of hearing and attend events, such as Busboys and Poets ASL open mic, to widen my awareness of disability poetics and ways to write about hearing loss. Additionally, it is my hope to host a periodic gathering of poets with disabilities, chronic illnesses, and other health issues that offers space for participants to share writing with one another and explore opportunities to collaborate on a group performance. I will continue to attend ASL classes so as to become fluent enough to integrate the language into my poetry.

These experiences will help me to deepen my focus on the body and hearing loss in my writing and performance. My forthcoming chapbook, Flare, which explores my experiences of invisible disability, will assist in these efforts. The book is a way of making peace with the sense of loss that comes with declining health. It is also a way of reclaiming power. It is an attempt to reconcile what the world has taught me about being “capable” with what I am now unable to do.

The book, coupled with this fellowship, will offer me a platform to speak out on issues of invisible disability. As pointed out through the #DisabilitySoWhite campaign, the experiences of people of color aren’t represented enough within efforts to build disability awareness. Nor are there enough voices speaking on behalf of invisible or visible disability in the mainstream. Therefore I will seek out performance opportunities that allow me to focus on these issues and work to increase my body of published work. I will work with Anthony Amos, my spouse and founder of Skies The Limit Entertainment, to develop at least one video that integrates ASL into one of my poems.

The transition from being someone who can hear without assistance to someone who is significantly hard of hearing a lot of the time has been a tough one and it has stirred up many fears for me. Will I lose the ability to hear spoken word poetry? Is it possible for me to be as active a part of the community as I used to be? To name a thing that feels like your captor -- boldly and without apology -- is to conquer the fear that keeps you bound. Marianne Williamson writes in A Return to Love: “As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” This is the thing I am commiting myself to through this fellowship: naming the invisible chains that bind me so as to help liberate myself and others.