Host: Catherine Burns
[overture music]
Catherine: [00:00:12] This is The Moth Radio hour from PRX. I'm Catherine Burns. This time, stories about feisty women. Women taking charge, making changes and standing up for themselves. We'll hear about a frustrated housewife in Great Britain, and a southern mama who's had it with her son and then young poet Amanda Gorman finds courage while auditioning for The Lion King.
If the voice of this first storyteller sounds familiar, it's because you've probably heard it before. Kathleen Turner's career spans many decades. She's known for her iconic voice, beauty, and presence and as someone who stands up for herself and others. The story was recorded at a live performance at Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts in New York City. Here's Kathleen Turner, live at The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Kathleen: [00:01:02] Good evening. I was sitting at my kitchen table in the flat I was staying in London. I was reading the frontpage story of a British tabloid. I was in London to play Mrs. Robinson in the play, The Graduate. Now, the story, which was the frontpage story, was about a woman whose washing machine broke down. And so, she called repairman. And he came, but without any kind of tools or equipment. And so, she asked “Why?” And he said, “Well, I had to be sure there was a problem first, didn't I?” [audience laughter]
So, they made an appointment for the next day and he came back with the wrong part. So, they made an appointment for the following day, and he never showed up. She called, and he said he was on another call and he wouldn't get there that day. So, finally, the next day, he pulled up in his truck. She told him that she had to run out for a few errands but she'd be right back. Why didn't he pull the truck up into the driveway to keep it off the street? And he did that. So, she drove around the block and she pulled up inside behind the truck and she informed him that he would not be leaving until the washer was fixed. [audience laughter] I thought, “You go, girl.” Now, why this was the frontpage story, I've never quite been sure.
The production company had given me a lovely flat in South Kensington. The top two floors of a four-story brownstone, and the third floor had the kitchen and living room, dining room and the fourth floor, the top floor, had three bedrooms. Two were in the front facing the street and a window seat ran along beneath the windows. And the third was in the back facing the gardens, and that was my room. Well, I brought along a young assistant named Jesse, who never left the country before. I thought it might do her some good. Any case, she didn't seem to be adapting as well as I had really hoped. She kept telling me that she was hearing strange noises in the apartment, in the flat. I would listen and I wouldn't hear anything and I'd say, “Okay. No, okay, of course, it must be something.”
One night, I got home from the show, and she was almost hysterical and she said, “All right.” She figured it out, there was someone on the roof. So, I called the police. They were very nice, and they came and they went on the roof and they came down and informed us that, “No, there was nothing on the roof.” “So, one night, I was sleeping, and she came into the room, shaking me, waking me up, saying, “You have to come. You have to come now.” So, I rush into her bedroom, and yes, yes, there are strange noises. They seemed to be coming from the window box, the window seat.
So, I got a fireplace poker and I pried up the top of the window seat, only to find dozens upon dozens of happy pigeons making their home. [audience laughter] Ho, ho, ho, ho. Well, Jesse slept on the sofa downstairs that night. And the first thing in the morning, I call the Kensington Bureau. Yeah. And they give me the Department of Wildlife or something. [audience laughter] I try to tell the woman, what's going on. She said, “No, no. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Are the pigeons in or out?” I said, “They're in. That's the problem.” [audience laughter] “Oh, no. Sorry. We only do out.” [audience laughter] So, I called an exterminator. He showed up. And guess what? Without any tools [audience laughter] without any equipment.
I asked him why he had nothing with him. And he said, “Well, I have to be sure there's a problem first, don't I?” [audience laughter] I said, “No, I just called because I felt lonely.” [audience laughter] Well, he took one look and agreed that, “Yes, it needed exterminating.” So, he would come back the next day with all the means to do so. Meanwhile, Jesse and I were to empty those bedrooms of everything movable of. The mattress, the bedding, the pillows, the clothing, everything, anything we could move, had to come out so he could fumigate, which we did. And the next day, he didn't show up.
I called him, and he said, “Well.” He said, “You live in Hammersmith.” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “Well, the bridge is closed, isn't it?” I said, “There are seven others.” [audience laughter] Well, I'm getting pretty upset now, huh? So, I call the production office and I tell them, “I'm not living this way. I'm not living with a bunch of pigeons in my house. [audience laughter] So, you need to help me. You have to do something about this.” So, the doorbell rings, and in walks this young man, clearly an intern [audience laughter] with a butterfly net. [audience laughter] So, I called the producer and I said, “Here's the deal. Either you clean out my flat, or I'm on a plane back to New York. But meanwhile, tonight, Jesse and I are going to go to the most expensive hotel I can find in London and you will pay for that.”
Well, sure enough, that place got cleaned out. When I went back and they proudly showed me the empty, cleaned window seat boxes. I said, “This is great. Thank you.” I said, “So, I guess you found the hole.” [audience laughter] And they said, “The hole?” I said, “Yes, where the birds come in.” “Ah, yeah.” Now, the play was a great success in London, and so the producers said, “Well, okay, now we go to Broadway.” Now, I don't know if all of you know this or anything, but there is a scene in the Graduate, where Mrs. Robinson stands naked for 23 seconds. I said, “No. No, no, no. Americans are so screwed up about sex. We are such hypocrites. I don't need that shit.” [audience laughter]
So, I took off on a tour of another play. I got a script that described the lead woman as 37 but still attractive. [audience laughter] Well, that really pissed me off. [audience laughter] And so, I called the British producers and said, “Guess what? We're going to Broadway.” And so, I played Mrs. Robinson on Broadway, fully nude at 48.
[cheers and applause]
But the best part in some were the letters I got from women my age. I will never forget. I think the one I love the most was a woman who wrote to me, “I have not undressed in front of my husband for 10 years, and I am going to tonight.” [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
Catherine: [00:10:10] Among Kathleen Turner's numerous accolades are Golden Globes for Romancing the Stone and Prizzi's Honor, an Academy Award nomination for Peggy Sue Got Married, Tony Award nominations for Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? and two Grammy nominations. She's also the bestselling author of the memoir, Send Yourself Roses, and the book, Kathleen Turner on Acting.
Kathleen is a delightful collaborator. Before every show, we do a big group rehearsal at The Moth office. During the rehearsal for her show, one of the other storytellers was a bit nervous and struggled to get through his story. All of a sudden, Kathleen jumped out of her chair and encouraged her fellow castmate to just, “Shake it out. Go ahead. Shake it out.” And so, we all stood up and we shook it out. We sat back down, and he was able to finish his story. It felt like magic.
[whimsical music]
Coming up, a producer fights to use her own voice in her movie, a grandmother contemplates buying trendy jeans and a young man from Atlanta gets a verbal smackdown from his mama. That's when The Moth Radio Hour continues.
[whimsical music]
Jay: [00:11:43] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX.
Catherine: [00:11:53] This is The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Catherine Burns. In this hour, we're talking about women owning their own power. We're turning now to our Atlanta StorySLAM series, where we partner with Georgia Public Radio. With a love letter to his powerful mom, here's Cola Rum.
[cheers and applause]
Cola: [00:12:15] John Gorrie Junior High Basketball court is what we congregated. A nappy headed menagerie of habitual mama rulebreakers, teenage maternal large transgressors from the hood, rowdy recalcitrants from the slums who only respected the reasoning in our mother's rules if they were backed by the rod in their hands. [audience laughter] In other words, we were them loud ghetto kids that regularly needed our asses whooped. [audience laughter] And every few days, one of our mothers would come to the park to bolster that actuality. Her distant approach being trumpeted with the loud forewarning ,of “Here come your mama,” [audience laughter] by some snotty nosed kid on the periphery of the park, which would send the targeted individual into panic and everyone else into anticipating laughter at his imminent beatdown from breaking one of his mama's rules.
Oh, we laughed in an uproar of screams when Jon John's mother took an extension cord to his hide for cussing out Sister Ann at the corner church. We howled in a fit of cackles when Charlie Boy's mama went at him with her purse for stealing money out of her purse. I was the snotty nose kid on the periphery of the park who yelled, “Baldy, here come your mama.” Before Ms. Davis marched into the park and reinforced her rules with an old school army belt. Boy, this was our life. Spectacle, hungry juveniles with dark sense of humor who viewed the ass whoopings of our peers as free entertainment. [audience laughter]
Now, even though I was a contemporary and held intimate knowledge of the rod, I did hold one distinction over my fellow mama rule breakers. My mother had never come to the park, because my mother was different. My mother was too cultured and civilized to discipline me in public like some Section 8 Hood Rat. At least, that's what I thought. [audience laughter] Until that fateful day when God let me know that air was quintessential to my existence also. [audience laughter] I was sitting on the park bench with my friend Gargamel. Listening to Run-D.M.C. on his boombox, when I heard it resound through the air like the cawing of some exotic ghetto bird. “Cola, here come your mama,” which I didn't believe [audience laughter] until the entire park who had turned towards the direction of the voice, slowly turned back around and stared at me with sadistic grins on their faces. That said, it's about fucking time. [audience laughter]
I still didn't want to believe it until she entered the park with slitted eyes, pursed lips and clenched jaws, hence the face of a woman who was about to whoop her child's ass. [audience laughter] She didn't have a belt, a purse or an extension cord. Straps didn't work on me. At 13 years old, I was already 6”2’, but my mother was 6”3’. [audience laughter] And took up pound of flesh with four arms and elbows. She said, “Didn't I tell you to quit leaving my kitchen dirty whenever you cook because that's how you get roaches.” When the word roaches came out of her mouth, the entire scene of the crime appeared in my mind. [audience laughter] An open container of pancake batter on the countertop, flour debris on the stove, a half-eaten pancake sitting in a plate of maple syrup. left sitting in the sink. Thus, a grocery store for roaches.
I wanted to tell my mother I didn't clean up, because I had to get to the park to hang out with the fellas. They needed me. But I looked into her eyes and saw the laws that governed mama rule enforcement and I knew that the ass whooping coming was nonnegotiable. So, I decided to break another one of her rules, which was, “Don't you ever run from me.” [audience laughter] Hey, the decision was simple math. Two ass whoopings at home was a lot more palatable than one in the park. [audience laughter] She must have saw the decision in my mind, because she abruptly attacked. I counter attack with a fake to the left and a spin to the right. She countered my counter with the left forearm swing [audience laughter] which I ducked up under, then took it to the house as the entire park exploded into laughter.
Yeah, I was a habitual mama rule breaker who only respected the reasoning of my mother's rules, if they were backed by the rod in her hand, a transgressor of maternal law who had determined on that fateful day that the rod that my mother used would be administered in private. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Catherine: [00:16:48] Cola Rum is a poet, spoken word artist, writer and novelist from Jacksonville, Florida, who has lived in Atlanta for the past 25 years. He has published two gothic comedy novels. We asked Cola, if he had any further thoughts about his strong mama after telling this story. He writes, “I realized over the court incident, my mother wasn't special. She was another black mother who didn't tolerate her unruly child.”
[fast paced music]
Now, we're going to hear a story from our Denver StorySLAM, where we partner with KUNC. Here's Rhonda Williams.
[cheers and applause]
Rhonda Williams: [00:17:38] As part of my day job, I make riveting, action packed, sexy, institutional films. [audience laughter] I'm talking those films that your company forces you to watch about compliance, security and fraud. [audience laughter] So, on my last project, they asked me to do the voiceover for the movie. I'm known for delivering. I'm known for coming in under budget. And if I did that voiceover, I was going to save a big chunk of change, because I wasn't going to pay for voiceover talent. I didn't really care if I did the voiceover one way or the other, but I'm known for delivering. So, I said, “Okay. Sure.”
Now, they picked two of the four voiceover talents, but they said, “Who we really want is you.” So, I said, “I'll talk to the director, I'll let you know.” [audience laughter] So, I email the director and I say to him they love the film. They have a couple of graphical edits that they want to make, and then they pick these two of the voiceover talents, but their top pick for the voiceover is me. I got an email back almost instantly, and he said, “Glad they liked the film. The edits shouldn't take that long. Just send over the artwork. About the voiceover, in my professional opinion, this project requires a professional voiceover talent. Somebody who's going to bring the spirit and energy to this project. But ultimately, it's your project, so we can talk about it.”
I thought to myself, oh, he probably thinks I'm trying to fulfill some bucket list thing. He just doesn't know. I don't really care one way or the other. I just got to deliver and I'm bringing this project in under budget. [audience laughter] I'll just call him. So, I call Mike and I say, “Hey. Yeah, about the voiceover. I mean, the project team just wants me to do it. I just want to deliver. Either way, it doesn't matter to me, I'm going to go with your recommendation one way or the other.” This is a five-minute conversation. And in that five-minute conversation, he tells me three times that I'm not a professional voiceover talent. Three times in five minutes.
First time he said it to me, I knew he was just telling me his professional opinion. Second time, little annoyed. [audience laughter] Third time, I thought, what the flagstone? You know what? I don't even care about making this thing, but now hear you say, I can't do it? Oh, I can do it. And you know what? I'm going to do it. [audience laughter] And you know what else? When I do it, I'm going to make you drink a big cup of shut up. That's what's going to happen. [audience laughter] But what I say on the phone is, [audience laughter] “Mike, the project team wants me. So, let me know when you book the studio and then I'll be there.” [audience laughter]
So, the day comes to do the voiceover, and I arrive at the studio. What you need to know is everything that's happened has been through email. Nothing has been face to face. So, this is our first face to face. So, I come to the studio and he says, “Hey, I know that voice. Glad to meet you.” I say, “It's good to be here.” [audience laughter] I remind him about that five-minute conversation, where he told me three times that I wasn't a professional voiceover talent. I said, “You know, you told me three times I wasn't a professional voiceover talent. The first time, I knew what you were trying to say. Second time, I was a little annoyed. Third time, I thought to myself, ‘You know, he's right. So, yeah.’”
I have a friend that does voiceover. So, I worked with her and she helped me work out my script, and she told me a couple of tips that I can do. And then you know what else you told me during that conversation? You said, “Oh, I don't know, maybe you have some hidden talent.” “Well, I do.” [audience laughter] “You know what, Mike? I sing. And to sing, you need to do breathing exercises. So, I work with my voice coach and I did a couple of breathing exercises. So, I'm ready to do this. If you want to do it right now, let’s just go in the booth.” He says, “I didn't mean to offend you. I mean, you have a nice voice. So, why don't we just do a read through?” I go, “Yes, let's do the read through.” [audience laughter]
So, we do the read through. And that's just basically I'm just reading the script and he's coaching me. “Hey, can you say this, a little more force? Hey, can you say this a little softer?” And then, we walk over to go do the booth. As we're walking over to go into the booth, he casually says to me, “Yes, you know professional would like knock this out in 15 minutes.” Again, with the professional. [audience laughter]
Here's the thing. When I worked with the professional, she let me know that projects like this for the size of text that I was going to have to read, those usually come in under 60 minutes. And after 60 minutes, people start getting nervous. So, there you go. 15 minutes, 60 minutes. She told me I was more than competent to be able to do this in 60 minutes. So, we go into the booth. And the engineer is trying to work through some things, get things ready, he's testing, “Hey, Rhonda, can you say a couple things?” So, I make sure my instruments are working. He goes, “You know what? I'm not getting everything. Can you just keep talking?” I said, “Sure, I can just keep making some sounds.” So, I sing.
And the director looks and he's like, “Hey, you're pretty good.” And I was like, “Oh, thanks.” [audience laughter] So, then they say, “Okay, we're ready.” And so, I read that text, and I do it in under 30 minutes. And then, my friend had also told me that I was in a unique position, that I was not only the client, but I was the talent. So, when I came out, that I had the opportunity to tell him what I liked and what I didn't like. And so, I came out and I told him exactly what I liked, what I didn't like and it was in the can.
Here's the thing. When I look back on that experience, that's one of those things that in corporate America, we would call a learning opportunity. [audience laughter] So, here's what Mike learned. [audience laughter] You don't know on first pitch if somebody's capable. And what I learned is that champions embrace the challenge. Champions don't skip the steps. They do the work. And champions, they don't back down. They stand their ground. And so, the next time somebody comes at me with, “You're not a professional,” I'll be ready to serve them a big cup of shut up. [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
Catherine: [00:25:04] That was Rhonda Williams. Rhonda is a communication manager in the financial services industry who volunteers her time at her church's food bank and still dabbles in voiceover work. After the events of this story, Rhonda worked with the director on a project for another group at her job, and he couldn't help singing her praises and recommending that they use her as a voiceover talent. Good man.
Often, being a strong woman means taking risks. This next story was told by another woman named Rhonda. It was recorded at the Housing Works Bookstore in New York City, where WNYC is a media partner of The Moth.
[cheers and applause]
Here's Rhonda Sternberg.
Rhonda Sternberg: [00:25:54] Okay. I needed a new pair of jeans, blue jeans. I hate getting blue jeans, because I always feel too fat and I hate having to deal with the sizes and going to a bigger size and all that kind of stuff. So, I go into the Gap, and I pick out a few pairs and I go into the dressing room to try one on or to try them on. And the first ones I try on, I happen to look at it and they're a size smaller than I usually get and I thought, oh, this is a mistake, but let me try them on anyway. I put my leg in the first one and I thought, oh, shoot, they're ripped. They're torn at the knee. [audience laughter]
So, I thought, well, I'm going to try them on anyway just in case they fit and then I can get another pair without the tear. But then, I put my left leg in the other one and I say, well, that's torn at the knee too. How could this be? And then I said, oh my God, these are ripped jeans. This is what the kids get. I'm 73 years old. I can't have ripped jeans. However, they fit and they fit in the smaller size and they felt good and I felt a little sexy. [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
So, I said, well, let me go look at them in the mirror. So, I go out into the three-way mirror, and I'm looking at them and I say to the sales guy, who was this young adorable guy, probably 22 years old, 23 years old, he was perfectly dressed and he said, “They look good.” And I said, “But I'm 73 years old.” And he said, “There's no age as to style. You can do it.” And I said, “But ripped jeans? What will my friends say?” And he says, “You tell them it means freedom.” [audience laughter] And I thought, well, freedom is okay. So, I'm looking at them. [audience laughter]
He said, “Look, I can go get you another pair. I can get you the same jeans without the rip.” And I'm thinking, but God, what if they don't fit and then they're the smaller size and all of that? There's a piece of me that actually wanted the ripped jeans, but I didn't know what to do. This other saleswoman was there and she said, “You know, maybe you need to start small.” And I said, “What do you mean? They're as small as I can get?” [audience laughter] And she said, “No, no, I mean, just a little rip, you know, a little rip at the top, not the knees. That's kind of advanced ripped jeans, [audience laughter] but a little rip at the top would be good.” So, I said, “No, no. If I do this, I'm going all the way.” [audience laughter]
So, I looked at the guy and I said, “You know, your grandmother wouldn't do this.” And he said, “Oh, my grandmother would do this.” [audience laughter] And I said, “Really?” I'm looking at him and I thought, well, maybe his grandmother is like 50. [audience laughter] And I said, “So, how old is your grandmother?” And he said, “She is 75.” And I said, “75 and she wears ripped jeans?” And he said, “Yes. And she's gorgeous, stunning.” So, I took them. [audience laughter]
[cheers and applause]
And there's a PS to this. I feel that even if I feel I'm really a beautiful person on the inside, sometimes it's just okay to be vain. Thank you.
[cheers and applause]
Catherine: [00:29:35] Rhonda Sternberg grew up in Chicago, moved to New York City 50 years ago and now resides in Park Slope, Brooklyn. She's a psychologist in private practice and teaches in the City College. She's currently writing a play about seniors living well. We asked her how actually wearing the jeans out into the world felt. Rhonda shared that she loved wearing her ripped jeans. She wrote, “I wore them happily. It's been so fun. My younger students thought I looked cool. While friends my own age said, ‘Good salesmen.’” I answered, “Yes, but not in the way you think. I believe then and still believe that we connected, that he got me and that he spoke from his heart.”
[Hot Chocolate, You Sexy Thing playing]
Coming up, a woman struggling with arthritis decides to swim the English Channel, and a young Amanda Gorman auditions for The Lion King on Broadway. That's when The Moth Radio Hour continues.
[Hot Chocolate, You Sexy Thing playing]
Jay: [00:31:05] The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by the Public Radio Exchange, prx.org.
Catherine: [00:31:17] This is The Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Catherine Burns. In this hour, we're hearing stories about women who left their comfort zones behind, like our next storyteller, who comes to us from our London StorySLAM. Here's Chantal Lyons, live at The Moth.
[applause]
Chantal: [00:31:35] Everyone wants to make their parents proud, right? My dad is a marathon runner, and I was a couch potato for most of my life until I was 23 when I took up running. I hated it at first, but I stuck to it and I started to realize why my dad loved it so much. I decided that just like him, I was going to run marathons. The only thing was that for a while, I'd been feeling some pain in my hips and my back, and the running made it worse. So, I went to the GP and I got tests, and I was told that I had something called ankylosing spondylitis, which I found out was a type of arthritis. And it's genetic and it is degenerative.
Actually, before I want to go any further, I want to rewind. Back to when I was 13 years old and I was on a summer holiday in Majorca with my family, one morning, I was sleeping in, as I usually did, and my dad went out water skiing and he had an accident. My dad was run over by a speedboat, and the propeller cut through most of his left arm. He was saved, and the arm was saved, but we didn't know if it would ever work again. He really needed that hand because he was a surgeon. And in the aftermath of the accident, his colleagues did not think that he would ever go back to work. But fortunately, no one is more stubborn than my dad.
So, even though the nerve was too badly damaged to be fully repaired, he found ways around it and he did go back to work. And years later, when I was diagnosed with arthritis, I was terrified. I was so scared of the word, degenerative. And knowing that for me, recovery would not be an option, I had to say goodbye to that vision of that final sprint down the mall in London. I actually had to give up running completely, because my body couldn't handle it. But I thought about my dad and how after the accident, he had just flowed around all the obstacles in his path. He had worked so hard to get back to where he was before his accident. I was sure that, just like him, I could adapt.
So, after I'd given up running, I got into a swimming pool. I didn't enjoy it at first, but I stuck to it. I got stronger and I got faster. I got to the point where I was overtaking most of the men in the fast lane, which was amazing. But I still wished that I could do something as incredible as run a marathon. It was this ache that I just couldn't let go of. And then, just this year in January, I found out that there was a charity called Aspire. They were running relay swims of the Channel.
Now, the way a channel relay works is you have a team of six people. And each person swims for an hour at a time, and then swaps out and you just repeat that until you get to France. Very simple. [audience laughter] So, I signed up. The training was very difficult. They make you swim for hours off Dover Beach with ferries in the background and jellyfish stinging your face. And the water, when you start the training is 11 degrees Celsius, and they don't let you wear a wetsuit. [chuckles] But I got through that training stronger than I had ever felt in my life. When the relay came around in September, I felt ready.
The first swim of the relay went fine. It was cold, but it was fine. But the second swim was just after midnight in the middle of the shipping lane. When I jumped into the water, I found myself in the roughest sea that I have ever swum in. The waves just threw me around. I kept swallowing salt. The support boat next to me looked like it was either about to crash down on me or I couldn't even see it. I couldn't swim fast. All I could do, basically, was not drown. I wish that at that moment, I could say that at that moment, I thought of my dad and everything he'd been through and I knew I could do this. But to tell the truth, all I was thinking was, oh, my God, this is dangerous. When are they going to call this off? [chuckles]
So, after that hour, which they let me finish, I got onto the boat feeling like a bit of a failure. But the team went on. We were allowed to go on. And a few hours later, it was my turn again, the third time, and France was close. And just before I went in, the boat pilot came out and he said to me that if I swam hard, I could beat the tide and land the team in France. But if I didn't, then the tide would turn and it would take us another two or three hours to get there.
When I hit that water, I was exhausted, but I knew that this was the final sprint. So, while I was swimming, dawn broke and it lit up the coast for me. But that coast never seemed to get any closer, no matter how hard I swam. I tried so hard, and I didn't believe that I would make it. I actually felt sure that the tide was already taking me away. And then, I saw the seabed under me, and I kept swimming until I could put my feet down and I walked onto that beach in France. After I got onto the support boat afterwards, I took a selfie with a glass of champagne and I sent it to the family WhatsApp group. My dad didn't reply to say that he was proud of me, because he doesn't like writing or saying sloppy things like that. He didn't need to, because I know more than anything that I am my father's daughter. Thank you.
[applause]
Catherine: [00:37:36] That was Chantal Lyons. Chantal is a writer and environmentalist living in Bristol, England. She still swims in cold water when she can convince herself to. She says that swimming has continued to be a powerful medicine against her arthritis. To see photos and videos of her epic swim, go to themoth.org.
While there, you can call our pitch line and leave a two-minute version of a story you'd like to tell. Have you ever pushed yourself mentally or physically? We'd especially love to hear from the women out there. The number to call is 877-799-MOTH, or you can pitch us your story at themoth.org.
Courtney: [00:38:14] In college, I spent a semester studying abroad at Oxford University. I studied abroad there in part, because I never would have gotten into it if I applied normally. But I got into the study abroad program, and went overseas and was so excited to study at Oxford. It only took me a couple of days to realize how out of my element I was. Everyone was studying systematic theology and historical philosophy, and I was there to study creative writing. I didn't really know what I was doing. I started to feel really intimidated all the time.
One day, I was walking to class and saw a flyer for the Oxford men's ice hockey team. I'd grown up playing ice hockey. Our high school team won a couple of state championships and I thought, gosh, I want to go try out for this team. The only problem was I had only played on girls’ teams and this was a men's league. I didn't know if I could cut it. But I tried out and I made it, because the Oxford men's hockey team was full of people who were much smarter than they were athletic, and I fit right in.
And so, we started playing games and we lost. We lost to Germany, and we lost to France, and we lost to Leeds, and we lost to Manchester and we lost to everybody. But the very last game of the season, the very last play of the game, I got a breakaway and I scored the winning goal. We all went back to the locker room to change and to celebrate. And someone walked in with a great huge case of beer and set it down at my feet.
And I said, “What's this for?” And he said, “You know, we have a tradition. You didn't know about it because you're new and we've never won a game with you, but we won. And someone is declared man of the match of the winning team, the person who contributes most to the victory. And you, Courtney, you are the man of the match.” So, everyone else wrote publishable papers about brilliant things, but no one else that semester was man of the match, the Oxford men's ice hockey team.
Catherine: [00:40:03] Remember, you can tell us your own story at themoth.org. For our final storyteller, we have poet Amanda Gorman. Long before she won the hearts of the world with her poem at the January Inauguration, she was, at just 19, a Moth GrandSLAM champion. We were thrilled to see her stun the world with her gorgeous poem, The Hill we climb.
Amanda: [00:40:31] A nation that isn't broken, but simply unfinished. We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.
Catherine: [00:40:54] The amazing single mother she mentioned is the driving force of her GrandSLAM winning story from Boston, where we partner with PRX and WBUR. Here's Amanda Gorman, live at The Moth.
[applause]
Amanda: [00:41:09] I'm going to be a mighty king like no king before. Everybody look left, look right, everywhere you look, I'm standing in the spotlight. These were the words that I repeated to myself as I walked into the LA audition room, where 100 other girls were trying out to be Nala on Broadway, New York. The air smelled of Hollywood and desperation. You know, it was crammed with these monster mothers and the savage children. You have no idea. These kids are like little demons. They'll step the foot out to chip you. They'll be doing pirouettes on around just to show off. Randomly, just do a backflip, because they can, whatever. And walking in, I was just really glad that I would never be [chuckles] like that and that most of all, my mom would never be like one of those crazy, loco stage moms.
I walked in and I remember her saying, “Amanda, don't worry about it. Just have fun and try your best.” I remember being in the corner, having my name on my back, doing my dance moves, stretching, getting it on. And a mother walks by and she goes, “That's cute, but it's not amateur night.” [audience laughter] Yes. My mom snapped. She went, “Hell nah. I know that lady didn't say that to my daughter.” The lion of the king grew out. All of a sudden, it was just no lines drawn. Yelling nasty comments at the other girls like, “Mm-hmm. I'm sure you other white girls didn't get the memo, but Lion King takes place in Africa. [audience laughter] You can't learn melanin, honey, okay? Can't do makeup for that.” [audience laughter]
I'm in the corner trying to pretend that my mom isn't my mom. My twin sister's there. She's there, not really for emotional support, but just to let me know how much I can fail. So, she comes up to me and she's like, “Yo, Amanda, I know you're nervous to audition, because you have a speech impediment and everything, and an auditory processing disorder and you look like the black girl version of Vessel brand. [audience laughter] But just have fun and be yourself.” My mom said, “Move out the way. You can have fun when I have my one-way ticket to New York City.” “Mom, what about being myself?” “Being yourself won't get mommy.
I mean, Amanda to The Lion King. Amanda, come over here. There's something you need to learn. You need to put yourself out there. So, when you see the casting director, tell him you've already menstruated, you're post-pubescent, you won't grow, you'll look nine forever. [audience laughter] And if that doesn't work out, you can always, you know, act like a monkey walking your hands or some crap like that. They might cast you as Rafiki.” I am trying to hear what my mom says, but also stay sane. I remember closing my eyes and just feeling I was so close to my dream. In my head, I saw myself loud and proud on a stage in front of a crowd, proving that a girl who was black and skinny and geeky and had a speech impediment could make it to Broadway.
Finally, after a little bit, they call my number. I walk into the audition room and in my head, I'm reciting the lyrics. I'm going to be a mighty king like no king before. I'm working on my roar, trying to be heard but these words don't sound right. Could I ever be in the spotlight? I'm there in front of the casting director and I remember what my mom told me. So, I said, “Yo, [audience laughter] good news. I've already had my period, so this is as high as I'm going to get. I can stay Nala for a really long time, if you know what I mean.” I cannot imitate his face. I'm not going to try it. And then, I tell him, “I know I just sang that little mighty king song, but I have other stuff in me. (tries to sing opening sequence of The Lion King] And then, I heard my mom's voice in my head telling me to pull out all the stops, that if worst came to worst and this was worst at the moment, I should walk on my hands or something and like act like a monkey.
So, I do not lie. I stepped back [audience laughter] and walked on my hands out of the audition. [audience laughter] True. I was waiting there with the other girls. Everyone's so tense. The monster moms are pushing people out the way, so they can hear. They start listing the names of people who get callbacks and I'm so excited and they haven't called my name yet. And the casting director comes out and says, “Thank you everyone for coming. That is all.”
I remember feeling so broken by what was supposed to be my big break. My mom came over to me and said, “You know, it's okay. You tried your best. You're always going to be Nala in my heart.” Part of me was so glad to know that I would never be like one of those girls who made it to Broadway, because I would still make it here. I'd still make it to now. Being loud and proud in front of a crowd on a stage where I know I am a mighty king, mightier than before. I might be working on my war but look left, look right here I am tonight in the spotlight.
[cheers and applause]
Catherine: [00:48:05] Amanda Gorman is the youngest inaugural poet in US History, as well as an award-winning writer and graduate of Harvard University. She's written for the New York Times and has three books coming out with Penguin Random House.
Seeing Amanda in her full, radiant glory on stage at the inauguration gave me hope for our country's future. One that I hope will be marked by a rise in female leadership and strength. I'm in my early 50s, but I know so many brilliant women in their late teens and 20s, and I love thinking about the world they're going to create and lead it one day. So, as we close out this hour of stories by and about fierce women, let's hear from Amanda one more time.
Amanda: [00:48:49] The new dawn blooms as we free it, for there is always light. If only we're brave enough to see it, if only we're brave enough to be it.
[whimsical music]
Catherine: [00:49:12] That's it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time.
[overture music]
Jay: [00:49:33] This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison and Catherine Burns, who also hosted and directed the stories in the hour. Coproducer, Viki Merrick. Associate producer, Emily Couch. Additional GrandSLAM coaching by Maggie Cino.
The rest of The Moth’s leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin Jenness, Jenifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Inga Glodowski, Sarah Jane Johnson and Aldi Kaza. Moth stories are true, as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.
Our pitch in this hour came from Courtney Ellis of Mission Viejo, California. Our theme music is by The Drift. Other music in this hour from David Grusin, Jimmy McGriff, Hot Chocolate, Rabbit Rabbit Radio, Andrew Bird, Jos Lynx, and Fabiano Do Nascimento. You'll find links to all the music we use on our website. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts.
The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. And presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org.