TedTest

From the Ted Talk by Amanda Gorman: Using your voice is a political choice

Unscramble the Blue Letters

I have two questions for you. One: whose shoulders do you stand on? And two: what do you snatd for? These are two qnioutess that I always begin my poetry workshops with students because at temis, ptorey can seem like this dead art form for old white men who just seem like they were born to be old, like, you know, bjmniaen btoutn or something. And I ask my stuednts these two questions, and then I share how I answer them, which is in these three secnetnes that go: I am the daughter of Black writers, who are descended from Freedom Fighters who broke their chains and changed the world. They call me. And these are words I repeat in a mantra before every single poetry performance. In fact, I was doing it in the ceonrr over there. I was making faces. And so I repeat them to myself, as a way to gather myself, because I'm not sure if you know, but public speaking is pretty terrifying. I know I'm on stage, and I have my heels, and I look all glam, but I'm horrified. And the way in which I kind of strengthen myself, is by having this mantra. Most of my life I was particularly teeirifrd of skipnaeg up, because I had a speech impediment, which made it difficult to pronounce certain letters, sounds, and I felt like I was fine wtiinrg on the page, but once I got on stage, I was wreiord my words might jumble and stumble. What was the point in trying not to mumble these thoughts in my head, if everything's already been said before? But finally I had a moment of realization, where I thought, if I cohose not to speak out of fear, then there's no one that my silence is standing for. And so I came to realize that I cannot stand standing to the side, standing silent. I must find the strength to speak up, and one of the ways I do that is through this mantra where I call back to what I call honorary ancestors. These are people who might not be related to you by blood, or by birth, but who are more than worth saying their names, because you stand on their shuodlers all the same. And it's only from the height of these shoulders that we might have the sight to see the mighty power of poetry, the peowr of language made aescclisbe, expressible. Poetry is intienestrg because not everyone is going to become a great poet, but anyone can be, and anyone can ejony poetry, and it's this openness, this altcibissicey of poetry that makes it the language of people. Poetry has never been the language of barriers, it's always been the language of bridges. And it's this connection- making that makes poetry, yes, powerful, but also makes it political. One of the things that irritates me to no end, is when I get that phone call, and it's usually from a white man, and he's like, "Man, Amanda, we love your poetry, we'd love to get you to witre a poem about this scejbut, but don't make it political." Which to me sounds like, I have to draw a srquae, but not make it a raglencte, or bliud a car and not make it a vilehce, it doesn't make much sense, because all art is pctaliiol. The decision to create, the artistic choice to have a vcioe, the choice to be haerd is the most political act of all. And by "political" I mean poetry is political in at least three ways: One: what stories we tell, when we're tlenlig them, how we're telling them, if we're telling them, why we're telling them, says so much about the political beliefs we have, about what teyps of stories matter. Secondly, who gets to have their stories told, I'm talking, who is legally awlloed to read, who has the resources to be able to write, who are we reading in our cmosraslos, says a lot about the political and educational systems, that all these stories and storytellers exist in. Lastly, poetry is political because it's preoccupied with people. If you look at history, notcie that tyrants often go after the poets and the creatives first. They burn books, they try to get rid of poetry and the language arts, because they're terrified of them. Poets have this phenomenal pteaintol to connect the beliefs of the private individual with the cause of change of the piulbc, the population, the polity, the political movement. And when you laeve here, I really want you to try to hear the ways in which poetry is actually at the center of our most political questions about what it means to be a dcmocraey. Maybe later you're going to be at a protest, and someone's going to have a poster that says, "They beruid us, but they didn't know we were seeds." That's poetry. You might be in your U.S. History class, and your teacher may play a video of mairtn Luther King Jr. saying: "We will be able to hew out of this mountain of despair a stone of hope." That's poetry. Or maybe even here, in New York City, you're going to go visit the Statue of Liberty where there's a sonnet that declares, as Americans, "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free." So you see, when someone asks me to write a poem that's not political, what they're really asking me is to not ask charged and challenging questions in my poetic work, and that does not work, because poetry is always at the pulse of the most dangerous and most daring questions that a naotin or a world might face. What path do we stand on as a plpeoe, and what future as a people do we stand for? And the thing about poetry is that it's not really about having the right answers, it's about asking these right questions, about what it means to be a writer doing right by your words and your actions, and my reaction is to pay honor to those shoulders of people who used their pens to roll over boulders so I might have a mountain of hope on which to stand, so that I might unsneardtd the power of telling stories that matter no matter what. So that I might realize that if I choose, not out of fear, but out of courage, to speak, then there's something uquine that my words can become. And all of a sudden that fear that my words might jumble and stumble go away as I'm hbelmud by the thoughts of thousands of sroiets a long time coming that I know are strumming inside me as I clrabetee those people in their time who stood up so this little Black girl could rhyme as I celebrate and call their names all the same, these people who seem like they were just born to be bold: Maya Angelou, Ntozake Shange, Phillis wlhaetey, Lucille Clifton, Gwendolyn Brooks, Joan Wicks, Audre Lorde, and so many more. It might feel like every story has been told before, but the truth is, no one's ever told my story in the way I would tell it, as the dauhgter of black writers, who are dedncseed from freedom fighters who brkoe their chnais and changed the world. They call me. I call them. And one day I'll write a story right, by writing it into a tomorrow on this Earth more than wroth satdning for. Thank you.

Open Cloze

I have two questions for you. One: whose shoulders do you stand on? And two: what do you _____ for? These are two _________ that I always begin my poetry workshops with students because at _____, ______ can seem like this dead art form for old white men who just seem like they were born to be old, like, you know, ________ ______ or something. And I ask my ________ these two questions, and then I share how I answer them, which is in these three _________ that go: I am the daughter of Black writers, who are descended from Freedom Fighters who broke their chains and changed the world. They call me. And these are words I repeat in a mantra before every single poetry performance. In fact, I was doing it in the ______ over there. I was making faces. And so I repeat them to myself, as a way to gather myself, because I'm not sure if you know, but public speaking is pretty terrifying. I know I'm on stage, and I have my heels, and I look all glam, but I'm horrified. And the way in which I kind of strengthen myself, is by having this mantra. Most of my life I was particularly _________ of ________ up, because I had a speech impediment, which made it difficult to pronounce certain letters, sounds, and I felt like I was fine _______ on the page, but once I got on stage, I was _______ my words might jumble and stumble. What was the point in trying not to mumble these thoughts in my head, if everything's already been said before? But finally I had a moment of realization, where I thought, if I ______ not to speak out of fear, then there's no one that my silence is standing for. And so I came to realize that I cannot stand standing to the side, standing silent. I must find the strength to speak up, and one of the ways I do that is through this mantra where I call back to what I call honorary ancestors. These are people who might not be related to you by blood, or by birth, but who are more than worth saying their names, because you stand on their _________ all the same. And it's only from the height of these shoulders that we might have the sight to see the mighty power of poetry, the _____ of language made __________, expressible. Poetry is ___________ because not everyone is going to become a great poet, but anyone can be, and anyone can _____ poetry, and it's this openness, this _____________ of poetry that makes it the language of people. Poetry has never been the language of barriers, it's always been the language of bridges. And it's this connection- making that makes poetry, yes, powerful, but also makes it political. One of the things that irritates me to no end, is when I get that phone call, and it's usually from a white man, and he's like, "Man, Amanda, we love your poetry, we'd love to get you to _____ a poem about this _______, but don't make it political." Which to me sounds like, I have to draw a ______, but not make it a _________, or _____ a car and not make it a _______, it doesn't make much sense, because all art is _________. The decision to create, the artistic choice to have a _____, the choice to be _____ is the most political act of all. And by "political" I mean poetry is political in at least three ways: One: what stories we tell, when we're _______ them, how we're telling them, if we're telling them, why we're telling them, says so much about the political beliefs we have, about what _____ of stories matter. Secondly, who gets to have their stories told, I'm talking, who is legally _______ to read, who has the resources to be able to write, who are we reading in our __________, says a lot about the political and educational systems, that all these stories and storytellers exist in. Lastly, poetry is political because it's preoccupied with people. If you look at history, ______ that tyrants often go after the poets and the creatives first. They burn books, they try to get rid of poetry and the language arts, because they're terrified of them. Poets have this phenomenal _________ to connect the beliefs of the private individual with the cause of change of the ______, the population, the polity, the political movement. And when you _____ here, I really want you to try to hear the ways in which poetry is actually at the center of our most political questions about what it means to be a _________. Maybe later you're going to be at a protest, and someone's going to have a poster that says, "They ______ us, but they didn't know we were seeds." That's poetry. You might be in your U.S. History class, and your teacher may play a video of ______ Luther King Jr. saying: "We will be able to hew out of this mountain of despair a stone of hope." That's poetry. Or maybe even here, in New York City, you're going to go visit the Statue of Liberty where there's a sonnet that declares, as Americans, "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free." So you see, when someone asks me to write a poem that's not political, what they're really asking me is to not ask charged and challenging questions in my poetic work, and that does not work, because poetry is always at the pulse of the most dangerous and most daring questions that a ______ or a world might face. What path do we stand on as a ______, and what future as a people do we stand for? And the thing about poetry is that it's not really about having the right answers, it's about asking these right questions, about what it means to be a writer doing right by your words and your actions, and my reaction is to pay honor to those shoulders of people who used their pens to roll over boulders so I might have a mountain of hope on which to stand, so that I might __________ the power of telling stories that matter no matter what. So that I might realize that if I choose, not out of fear, but out of courage, to speak, then there's something ______ that my words can become. And all of a sudden that fear that my words might jumble and stumble go away as I'm _______ by the thoughts of thousands of _______ a long time coming that I know are strumming inside me as I _________ those people in their time who stood up so this little Black girl could rhyme as I celebrate and call their names all the same, these people who seem like they were just born to be bold: Maya Angelou, Ntozake Shange, Phillis ________, Lucille Clifton, Gwendolyn Brooks, Joan Wicks, Audre Lorde, and so many more. It might feel like every story has been told before, but the truth is, no one's ever told my story in the way I would tell it, as the ________ of black writers, who are _________ from freedom fighters who _____ their ______ and changed the world. They call me. I call them. And one day I'll write a story right, by writing it into a tomorrow on this Earth more than _____ ________ for. Thank you.

Solution

celebrate
types
people
standing
rectangle
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notice
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square
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humbled
unique
heard
terrified
vehicle
accessible
choose
questions
descended
times
shoulders
corner
allowed
leave
poetry
classrooms
speaking
worth

Original Text

I have two questions for you. One: whose shoulders do you stand on? And two: what do you stand for? These are two questions that I always begin my poetry workshops with students because at times, poetry can seem like this dead art form for old white men who just seem like they were born to be old, like, you know, Benjamin Button or something. And I ask my students these two questions, and then I share how I answer them, which is in these three sentences that go: I am the daughter of Black writers, who are descended from Freedom Fighters who broke their chains and changed the world. They call me. And these are words I repeat in a mantra before every single poetry performance. In fact, I was doing it in the corner over there. I was making faces. And so I repeat them to myself, as a way to gather myself, because I'm not sure if you know, but public speaking is pretty terrifying. I know I'm on stage, and I have my heels, and I look all glam, but I'm horrified. And the way in which I kind of strengthen myself, is by having this mantra. Most of my life I was particularly terrified of speaking up, because I had a speech impediment, which made it difficult to pronounce certain letters, sounds, and I felt like I was fine writing on the page, but once I got on stage, I was worried my words might jumble and stumble. What was the point in trying not to mumble these thoughts in my head, if everything's already been said before? But finally I had a moment of realization, where I thought, if I choose not to speak out of fear, then there's no one that my silence is standing for. And so I came to realize that I cannot stand standing to the side, standing silent. I must find the strength to speak up, and one of the ways I do that is through this mantra where I call back to what I call honorary ancestors. These are people who might not be related to you by blood, or by birth, but who are more than worth saying their names, because you stand on their shoulders all the same. And it's only from the height of these shoulders that we might have the sight to see the mighty power of poetry, the power of language made accessible, expressible. Poetry is interesting because not everyone is going to become a great poet, but anyone can be, and anyone can enjoy poetry, and it's this openness, this accessibility of poetry that makes it the language of people. Poetry has never been the language of barriers, it's always been the language of bridges. And it's this connection- making that makes poetry, yes, powerful, but also makes it political. One of the things that irritates me to no end, is when I get that phone call, and it's usually from a white man, and he's like, "Man, Amanda, we love your poetry, we'd love to get you to write a poem about this subject, but don't make it political." Which to me sounds like, I have to draw a square, but not make it a rectangle, or build a car and not make it a vehicle, it doesn't make much sense, because all art is political. The decision to create, the artistic choice to have a voice, the choice to be heard is the most political act of all. And by "political" I mean poetry is political in at least three ways: One: what stories we tell, when we're telling them, how we're telling them, if we're telling them, why we're telling them, says so much about the political beliefs we have, about what types of stories matter. Secondly, who gets to have their stories told, I'm talking, who is legally allowed to read, who has the resources to be able to write, who are we reading in our classrooms, says a lot about the political and educational systems, that all these stories and storytellers exist in. Lastly, poetry is political because it's preoccupied with people. If you look at history, notice that tyrants often go after the poets and the creatives first. They burn books, they try to get rid of poetry and the language arts, because they're terrified of them. Poets have this phenomenal potential to connect the beliefs of the private individual with the cause of change of the public, the population, the polity, the political movement. And when you leave here, I really want you to try to hear the ways in which poetry is actually at the center of our most political questions about what it means to be a democracy. Maybe later you're going to be at a protest, and someone's going to have a poster that says, "They buried us, but they didn't know we were seeds." That's poetry. You might be in your U.S. History class, and your teacher may play a video of Martin Luther King Jr. saying: "We will be able to hew out of this mountain of despair a stone of hope." That's poetry. Or maybe even here, in New York City, you're going to go visit the Statue of Liberty where there's a sonnet that declares, as Americans, "Give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to be free." So you see, when someone asks me to write a poem that's not political, what they're really asking me is to not ask charged and challenging questions in my poetic work, and that does not work, because poetry is always at the pulse of the most dangerous and most daring questions that a nation or a world might face. What path do we stand on as a people, and what future as a people do we stand for? And the thing about poetry is that it's not really about having the right answers, it's about asking these right questions, about what it means to be a writer doing right by your words and your actions, and my reaction is to pay honor to those shoulders of people who used their pens to roll over boulders so I might have a mountain of hope on which to stand, so that I might understand the power of telling stories that matter no matter what. So that I might realize that if I choose, not out of fear, but out of courage, to speak, then there's something unique that my words can become. And all of a sudden that fear that my words might jumble and stumble go away as I'm humbled by the thoughts of thousands of stories a long time coming that I know are strumming inside me as I celebrate those people in their time who stood up so this little Black girl could rhyme as I celebrate and call their names all the same, these people who seem like they were just born to be bold: Maya Angelou, Ntozake Shange, Phillis Wheatley, Lucille Clifton, Gwendolyn Brooks, Joan Wicks, Audre Lorde, and so many more. It might feel like every story has been told before, but the truth is, no one's ever told my story in the way I would tell it, as the daughter of black writers, who are descended from freedom fighters who broke their chains and changed the world. They call me. I call them. And one day I'll write a story right, by writing it into a tomorrow on this Earth more than worth standing for. Thank you.

Frequently Occurring Word Combinations

ngrams of length 2

collocation	frequency
freedom fighters	2

Important Words

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