Behind the Scenes of a Live Event

By Victoria (Tori) Martinez

It was the hottest day of summer so far, 100 degrees in Colorado. I slipped on my white flowy gown, then stepped onto the stage and performed my poetry for a captive audience. The day was amazing, the interactions wonderful, and tears we shed by many (the good kind). But it’s what happened before the event I want to talk about with you today.

Southern Colorado had been under a constant cover of smoke from the nearby wildfires for weeks. My illnesses makes my whole body vulnerable, but it was my lungs that were feeling the brunt impact from the smoke. It triggered a massive bout of bronchitis. Two hospital visits, and they still weren’t able to stop the coughing. I almost canceled the event. But I decided to take the four-hour trip up north to Denver anyway, in the hopes they had less smoke and that might help my breathing. I was right. It was clearer skies, and lower altitude. But I still had to take a double dose of cough suppressant, use my inhaler, and drink plenty of fluids before and during the event.

I managed to make it through, but that evening and the next day was painful. I share this because when you live with chronic illness you must choose your battles wisely. You must decide if the struggles are worth it. To me, this was. Now don’t get me wrong, not every opportunity will be worth the sacrifices. I will say no, more often than I say yes. But the next time you see someone who you know is ill, remember that there was probably a lot of behind the scenes effort that had to happen to get them there.

While spending time in prayer, meditation, and preparation for this event I kept reminding myself that I can do hard things. It’s a mantra someone shared with me once that I hold onto in difficult times. You can do hard things too. You can be brave to follow your dreams, you can start doing those things you’ve always wanted to do but keep putting off until later. I do certain things because I want to connect with as many people as I can, while I can. I want to help them feel seen, heard, and validated in their experiences.

Luckily I have a wonderful support system, and lots of family that helped me through the day of the event and leading up to it. I couldn’t do half the things I do without that support system. If you don’t have one in place find one, create one, prioritize help. I think we need to normalize asking for help. Too often society has conditioned us to believe asking for help is weakness. But if we return to cultural ways of being, then help is a community expectation, a  cultural tradition of caring for others and letting them care for us.

That is the focus of the poems and stories I shared during my poetry reading. Cultural ways of healing, cultural ways of grieving, and caring for each other. At the end of the event everyone shared a few lines with me about the women in their lives who have cared for and shaped them. I created a new poem based on their descriptions and shared it at the end of the event. This poem will now be displayed in the Center for Colorado Women’s History, where the event took place. Keep an eye out for the next newsletter, I’ll share the poem with you then (or sign up for my newsletter to get a free poetry print of the poem). Until next time don’t forget to care for yourself!