Speaking of poetry

Sarah Portugal, a senior in musical theater at The High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, is a singer/songwriter who loves to write and perform spoken-word poetry.

I met poetry one day walking into the doors of my second-grade classroom. The assignment for the day was to write about something admired more than anything else. Naturally, I wrote about horses – comparing the, “holes in their noses to tunnels leading to a secret entrance.” This remarkable simile marked the start of a friendship between this girl named Poetry and me.

I wish when she introduced herself to me so boldly she would have heeded me a warning – something along the lines of, “Hi my name is Poetry. Did I mention that I will end up consuming your life? No? Great. You’ll find out in like 10 years.” Well 10 years later I can say that “Poetry” might consume a great portion of my life, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Of course, Poetry and I – like every other pair of old friends – have been through rough patches. But if it were not for her I certainly would not be the person I am today. All right, enough with this personification of poetry. Hi. My name is Sarah Florence Portugal. I am a senior musical-theater major at HSPVA. Last year I was lucky enough to have earned a spot on Meta-Four – Houston’s Youth Poetry Slam Team. Poetry slam was not something I intentionally sought out, but rather stumbled upon.

The first two years of high school I felt I had artistically hit a wall– in both my theater and my poetry. So I took a break from both and pursued songwriting. During this break I developed an immense zeal for ‘90s singer/songwriters – my favorite of which was Ani DiFranco. One day I was listening to an entire album, and one of the tracks was her reciting poetry set to music. However, there was something different about this poetry – it was tangible, relevant and theatric. I was hooked. Spoken word was the hybrid of my two main passions – performing and writing. Looking back, the realization that I could pursue both of these passions simultaneously was the best discovery I’d ever made for my artistic livelihood.

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Permission by Sarah Portugal I grew up expecting second best for myself. I wouldn’t give myself the rights I already had. I gave the other kids halos and angel wings and they would fly right above me. Acronyms plastered across my tiny forehead, an invisible piece of paper screaming A.D.D. Explained by adults as, “You are different!” Translated into, “You are different, now change.” So I tried. I took all of my self-worth wrapped it in expensive gift wrap, gave it a bow, and handed it off to the other kids like buy one get one free coupons until it was all gone. The world was a black and white playground, the school, a robot factory. The kids signed an expensive waiver that sold their souls to a contrived system by the age of 20. Excuse me, teacher, I was wondering if I could have permission to breathe? I know it’s difficult for you to process by request as we are both human beings. But I tried.

40 milligrams of Adderall a day keeps the doctor away! And they scare you with words like, “What will happen to her when she gets off the medicine? Will she be able to make it?” The same history books that I had read over and over again always included the Declaration of Independence – for the people, by the people, but not for me. So I made my own – not simply for me but for an entire country of kids that popped pills before they had the choice not to, that grew up with second best as an expensive commodity. We hold these truths to be self evident that all men and women have permission to be – whoever they want to be regardless of outside critique. That even when you don’t feel like you are worth anything you define your own self-worth and furthermore. That anybody, anyone, anything that gets in the way of an individual and their own self-love does not, in fact, love his or her self enough to respect yours. That one will not be allowed to apologize for their own opinions. That any one human will not be looked down upon by another human for traits that list as the following – their race, their religion, their sexual orientation, their differences, their weaknesses.

But, instead will be celebrated for what they have to contribute to the human race! The history of the present state of our society is a history that we can change. It isn’t located in dry, dirty history books but in our minds and our bodies, in what we create. You are always alive with a choice. To choose empathy or to choose indifference. To choose hope or to choose pessimism. To choose forgiveness or to choose apathy. To choose to draw a line in the sand, dare yourself not to step over it, and then step over it. To choose life.