Interview With Soré Agbaje
Soré Agbaje is many things: a student, a performer, an artist, and most importantly, a poet. We were in high school together, and I knew her primarily through our school’s literary magazine, in which she was published numerous times. In senior year, she took first prize in the poetry slam the magazine sponsored. Reading her poems and seeing her perform, I had a sense that she was going to go on to become an even more accomplished poet than she already was. When I met with her, I was eager to hear about what she’d been up to since graduation, and to learn more about the mind behind the artist.
When would you say you first started really writing, as a poet?
Well, first, I was always a writer. My mom pushed me into writing when I was younger, so I guess it was always part of the culture of my house. There was a contest that I entered when I was, maybe, in third grade. I actually got my brother to write the poem; I was too lazy. I was always one of those kids that really didn’t care about anything, but when my brother wrote the poem, I looked at it and I said, “I think I can do the same thing. I want to be just like my brother. I want to be better.” So I wrote my own poem, and it ended up being good. But I only realized that I had a talent for writing and that other people also enjoyed it when I came into a new school. The English teacher gave us a free write, and you know, I wanted to impress everyone. I wanted them to know, “I’m smart too. It’s not just you guys.” So I wrote a poem, and when I read it, everyone was in awe. That’s when I was like, “Wow, people actually care about this. I can actually get people to feel things through my writing.” That’s when I started writing, but high school is when I became an artist, because now I was doing it for myself. I wasn’t doing it for other people. I was writing for myself, I was blogging about my writing, and I was doing spoken word competitions.
Was there anything in high school in particular that made you grow more as a writer?
In particular, I think a lot of different things, a lot of life experiences. When you’re in high school, things are difficult. You’re always hearing about bullying and things like that. But what really, really helped my writing was the Lit Mag [Literary Magazine] at our school, and people like KK [Mr. Kilkelly], the moderator, and people like Mr. Sweeney [another English teacher]. We had Lit Mag meetings every Wednesday, and we would just sit down and write. It was the first time that I was in a place where I wasn’t the only writer. There were other writers and we could all just share our writing. Another thing that really helped me was my blog, mellifluousflow.tumblr.com. I would post things every day, and if I didn’t post, people would be like, “Oh, do you not have your blog anymore?” It felt like, “Oh, now I have to be regular with this.” Then, when I started doing contests, that’s what really got me to be serious about my writing.
What would you say your writing process is like? How long on average does it take you to write a poem?
When I first started, I just had so many things inside of me that I needed to get out. I could be looking at you and I’d be thinking of a poem, or I’d be in a classroom and I’d just be writing. Sometimes I just had so many words inside, I’d talk to you and you’d be like, “Whoa! That sounds very poetic.” That was when I first started; I would put a pen down to a paper and words would just flow out. But now it’s different. Now, I wait for inspiration. I try and write more political pieces now, because where I work, we do workshops, and one of our mentors mentioned to us that poetry is political. Poetry is a way to give a voice to people who don’t have a voice. You can’t be a poet and think, “Oh, well I’m just going to write about flowers!” That’s okay, but it’s not enough. You can’t just have a gift and not do anything with it.
My writing process is really about that. I try and write about things that matter. Before, I just wrote everything. Now, I think about how I feel, and I go back and edit. I used to never edit my stuff, but now I do and I just try and get all my feelings out, you know? I also do research, because when you’re writing about issues, you can’t not know what you’re writing about.
You mentioned that you’re a spoken word artist as well. I’ve seen some examples of spoken word, but what would you say is the difference between just simple poetry and spoken word? Is there a significant difference?
See, if you ask different poets, they’ll say, “No, it’s the same thing, there’s no difference. Poetry and spoken word are the same”, but I completely disagree. I only started doing spoken word two years ago, but I’ve always been a poet, and I know from writing poetry that they’re way different. Spoken word is more free, and when I discovered spoken word, I was like, “Wow, this is so me. How come I haven’t been doing this before?” Poetry is also freeing, but there’s something about spoken word that’s different. It’s very “me”; it’s like my own vernacular. I can have my own language with spoken word. I can get all my feelings out, like, “Hey, listen to me. This is what I want you to hear.” But with poetry, it’s like, “Read it. Understand. Go back to it and read it again.” But with spoken word, not everyone’s supposed to get it. If you don’t get it, that’s your problem, so you have to listen up. It’s more powerful than poetry, I think.
What experiences have you had with spoken word? What kind of things have you done?
Recently…thank God, I’ve been given a lot of opportunities and I’m really grateful, because a couple months ago I wouldn’t have imagined doing the things I’m doing now. Two days ago, I performed at the Lincoln Center. It was a competition to be New York City’s poet laureate, and it was amazing. I didn’t think I was going to get in when I sent in my application. We had to give in an artist résumé, so I put everything that I’ve ever done in my entire life in that résumé. I sent in my best works of poetry, but the thing is, they wanted it to be pieces that are civically engaging, so I wrote about politics. We performed at Lincoln Center, and now me and the other contestants, the people that made it to the finals, are poet ambassadors. So it’s really nice. I also joined this organization called Urban Word NYC, and I’m on the digital media team, so we do a lot of recordings. I promote things that we do, like the workshops we facilitate, and I manage the social networking accounts. Because of Urban Word, I perform on the train now. I don’t ask for money, but I’ve never had the guts to do that. We also do street performances, among many other things. I have a YouTube channel, so I record professional videos of my poems. It’s just a lot of different things that I am trying to do.
Do you have any advice that you would give to young poets that aspire to be like you?
Well, I’m still at the stage where I don’t feel like anyone should aspire to be like me. There’s still so much that I have to do. I have great mentors and I know so many people that I aspire to be like, and I feel like I’m not there yet. But I’d say, don’t listen to anyone when they tell you that you can’t do something, and don’t listen to yourself! A lot of times people will tell you “You can’t do this” but that’s not even the issue. The only reason we listen to things like that is because we believe that we can’t do it ourselves. That’s something that I struggle with. I was always a confident writer, but when I got into a place where there were so many great writers, I started to doubt myself. What I would say is, if you’re afraid of something, that’s more reason why you should go after it. I was afraid of doing street performances, I was afraid of doing the poet laureate competition; I was afraid of so many things that I’ve done. But I’ve made a decision with myself that the more I fear it, the more I’m supposed to do it. We humans, we’re self-destructive—we’ll wish for something and want it so badly, but when it’s in our hands, it’s like, “Oh, I can’t do this.” Don’t be lazy, either. If you have a dream, go after it. People might say “You’re not going to be successful”, but as long as you’re passionate about something, and you’re willing to work hard, you’re going to be successful at it.
(Note: I wasn’t able to get a copy of the New York Times since I don’t live near a place that sells it, and there wasn’t one near where we met, either.)
