Guest post by Alexandra Oliver:
I wrote my poem “Ring-A-Ding-Ding” a long time ago, in 1996, I think. It was a bolshy, stroppy single girl’s response to married men hitting on me in bars (this only happened a few times, but it was enough to prove tedious.) A journalist who saw me perform the poem in Vancouver that same year actually thought I was celebrating the joys of adultery. In reality, it was meant to be an ironic statement about fidelity, self-indulgence and keeping one’s dignity in a world where, sexually speaking, anything goes.
Today I consider myself to be not really a slam poet, but rather a page poet who’s an enthusiastic reader. When I got involved in slam, it really was in its beginning stages in Vancouver. The community was so welcoming and pleasant; I really felt close to my teammates at the 1996 Nationals in Portland. We (Andrea Thompson, Cass King , Justin McGrail and myself) were rookies and terribly nervous, but we treated the whole experience like we had been sent off to camp. We did take our work seriously, but we threw ourselves into enjoying the festive atmosphere and meeting new friends. I look back on those days with great fondness.
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