The Beginning
Every superhero has an origin story.
When people typically ask about when I “started” writing, I typically lie and tell them 2011. The truth? Poetry for me is a journey with multiple starting points. I come from a family of creatives and artists in more ways than would probably be evident on first look. With respect to my blood line, perhaps this journey was predetermined. Nevertheless, there is plenty of evidence that suggests I have been a poet for quite some time, dating back to school assignments and random journaling I would do as a youngin. I was a shy kid, and still am (though many would fight me on that point). When I discovered writing, it was like I discovered a whole new world of possibility where I could take the time that I longed for to effectively communicate whatever it was that I had to say.
So, what happened in 2011? Well… peer pressure.
On October 19, 2009, I created an account on Evernote because I was looking for some type of note taking platform. I don’t have any notes from 2009 or 2010, but I’d like to imagine I wanted to use it for high school assignments to have a place to synchronize my notes. It was my first year of high school, which back then, felt like the beginning of life’s most important journey.
Fast forward to April 2011, and a couple of my closest friends had begun writing raps and recording them. I wanted in. April 25, 2011, I wrote my first note on Evernote. Needless to say, it wasn’t that good. It had some “bars,” but it wasn’t written in my voice. I was writing a persona that I thought would be accepted best.
When did I start writing in my own voice? As cliché as it may be, it started with a girl. A smidge over a month after that first note, I got my first kiss from a girl I had fallen for, and that relationship with her was the spark that lit the proverbial fire. Unfortunately, some of those poems are lost to time, because for my own well-being, I had to delete some of those most tender ones off of my Evernote once it all ended. What will never be lost though, were the feelings I felt when writing those - I had tapped into the writer within me that knew his true voice.
The Performance
Every superhero needs a costume.
Prior to the next time you see me with short(er) hair, the last time that I had a formal haircut was in November 2015. This coincided with preparing to host the very first Flexin’ My Expression, an open mic one of my close friends and I put on at UC San Diego. An open mic we had envisioned being maybe 5 people max ended up being one of my life’s canon events - performing poetry for the first time in front of a room of 80+ people.
That night, I was introduced to a very dynamic spoken word artist, Amen Ra, whose performance made me realize there were levels to this poetry s***. After the event, my other poet friend, Kai, told me about other open mics in San Diego in case I was interested in hearing more. That opened my world to meet some of the most influential people on the face of the planet, and to an opportunity to evolve as an artist in more ways than I could have planned for.
The Evolution
Every superhero needs to grow.
I’m a firm believer that if something is important, there is time to be made for it. I was already a busy college student, involved in community orgs on campus, but I made time for my open mic nights. It started with the San Diego Poetry Slam, every 2nd Monday. Every Tuesday, Lyrical Exchange at Queen Bee’s. Then came The Plug. Eventually Friday nights were for Black Xpression. Hookah & Poets on some Wednesdays, Spoken Sanctuary on others. If there was an open mic in San Diego, I was aware of it, and chances are, I would be there either helping, performing, hosting, or some combination of the three.
On top of that, I began to blossom as (in my humble opinion) the poet on campus at UC San Diego. Flexin’ My Expression came around again in April 2016 for our incoming Black students, then again October 2016, and one final curtain call (under my leadership) in April 2017.
The Author
Every superhero needs a legacy.
In October 2017, I was sitting in the Oakland airport, early (per usual) for my flight. I called my dad and asked him about how he went about publishing his poetry books. Within 5 minutes of ending that phone call, I began compiling my first poetry book, 5 South. At this point in my life, so many people knew who I was, a lot of people had heard my poetry, and people were actually interested in more. The reception to my first poetry book cemented my self-confidence as an artist. If I built it, they would come, as long as I was intentional. The good news? I had so much more to say. Over the years, I continued to write, and continued to publish poetry book after poetry book.
