At Spoken Word

Teddy walks up on stage nervously. He’s wearing khaki shorts and a polo, his prosthetics showing, but he’s proud of them now. He doesn’t care what conclusions people jump to.

He wouldn’t read us his poem before he left the house. All he said was that he was going to be honest and we shouldn’t come if we weren’t going to be okay with that.  

Of course, we told him we’d support him no matter what.  

Sometimes, I look at him and see the scared little boy in the hospital all those years ago, when Tyler just wouldn’t wake up.  

Sometimes, I look at him and see the brave little boy who never gave up hoping.  

He tries to adjust the microphone, but can’t get it, so the MC jumps up onto the stage and helps him with it. “I’m Teddy”, he says into the mic. “Hope all of you are doing great tonight. This poem — it’s a lot. I know it is. But life — life can be a lot. And that’s what I’m trying to capture here. I never did figure out a name for it, so it doesn’t have one.”  

Tyler smiles in the seat beside me, waiting for his twin to begin. Sometimes, I’m not sure where Teddy would be - or where I would be - if Tyler had never woken up.  

I asked him if he was going to memorize it, but he said he was too nervous. It’s his first poetry slam. Or Spoken Word, I guess? Not slam, because it’s not a competition.  

He holds his phone in one hand, and gestures with his free hand. He starts reading, his voice firm and unwavering.  

My twin will spend his life

Yearning for when we reunite with the others in the afterlife

Yet he’ll never stop fighting for each and every breath

Spending his days denying death

And he’ll spend his time on earth trying to do right by our older brother

Because he may have a double but he was one of a kind, we don’t get another 

But Adam died for his country

His honor and that helicopter will he remembered for the next century 

The crowd snaps several times, and someone calls out “Yes he will”. Tyler snaps beside me, so I do too.  

Teddy continues.  

I loved him and I miss him

He helped me face my phantom limbs

Taught me everything I know

Showed me how to distinguish friend verse foe

My life would be irrevocably different 

And far less deliberate

If that embryo hadn’t split in two

Twice because a family with two 

sets of twins is a rare point of view 

My brother died young

Was only twenty three and that loss stung

But Lily wasn’t old enough to ride

On a water slide

When she died

At the age of three

And I never got to see

Who she could be 

The crowd is in it with him now. Maybe a bit in disbelief that a kid his age already lost two siblings. But they’re there. He has them. They feel his pain with him, and that’s the point, right? They moan and yell “aww” when he mentions Lily dying at three.  

I see him trying to keep his composure. But the thing about poetry is he doesn’t have to. He just has to lean into it. And he does.  

When I close my eyes, Lily is there in the crowd

And you’re all clapping loud

But she’s the loudest

Because she’s the proudest

Of me

Because she can see

Who I’ve turned out to be

His voice cracks and he takes a quick breath.  

She’d be fourteen tonight 

I wouldn’t even care if she was a brat because her survival would be the highlight

“Yes it would”, Tyler calls out. Teddy smiles and continues.

She lost her life 

The night my pleas to my dad were denied

I begged him to just stop the car

Maybe he was just trying to scare us but he took it too far 

More awws, more snaps, more people hearing this kid who has gone so long without being heard.

Lost my legs

Sucks to be in the dregs

Of life And only be five

Yet damn lucky to be alive 

Because my parents had failed

To do the one task expected of them

And protect their child 

It sounds wild

But it happens more often than you think

So many people out there on the brink

Hoping there’s somewhere there to love them 

Who won’t treat them like scum

I wipe tears away because he’s right. They failed. They let him down and it never should have happened. Ever. Beside me, Tyler shifts in his seat and I find his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.  

There’s one kid in my class

Who doesn’t treat me like I’m made of glass 

Like everybody else he knows our sister

Is our guardian, last chance at a family

Taking us in with hearts of gold

When everyone else has been cold

He lifts his hand and points at me and Miles before continuing spitting his lines.  

So yeah this kid knows I don’t have parents

So thinks it’s apparent 

We have something in common 

I’ve just been trying to avoid the drama 

Last year his dad passed

Dropped dead one day of a heart attack 

It’s kind of weird actually 

Because as coincidence has it, quite unusually 

My dad was a cardiac surgeon 

But he may as well have been a sea urchin

When I was young, took more than a few punches 

My family was destined for spontaneous combustion 

This kid in my class

 wishes his dad had gotten that coronary bypass

And I wish mine had never learned the procedure 

And instead spoken to a rabbi or a preacher 

I never wanted to be raised by a genius 

Especially one with such a weakness 

For the bottle 

That made him throttle instead of coddle 

His performance makes this poem just as great as the words he chooses. He blasted music while he practiced so none of us could hear it, but I know Tyler and him went over and over it. I asked Ty why he wasn’t going up on stage tonight but he said it was Teddy’s turn to shine. I know Ty gave Teddy some feedback and helped him with some of the verses.  

Spoken word poetry isn’t mainstream or well known like a kid with a guitar. It’s not something you hear on the radio, and you have to go looking for it if you want to find it on YouTube.  

But, it seems to fit Teddy well. There has been so much heartbreak and Tyler’s always been able to channel that through his guitar, but Teddy’s tone deaf. He never had an outlet besides running, both figuratively and literally.

He puts a hand to his heart, and bows his head for a moment.  

My mom she tried

To abide

By what he asked of her

But in doing so she allowed him to injure

Her offspring 

Like that engagement ring

Was worth more than anything

Even me and all my siblings 

The way he’s shouting these lines, it’s unbelievable. It’s not like quiet the way Tyler handles his guitar. It’s unreal. He’s owning his words in a way I’ve never seen either of them do before. These are two quiet kids who have spent so much of their lives trying to pretend that the things that happened to them didn’t.  

Tyler didn’t tell any of his friends about his illness or his brain injury. Teddy wore long pants as much as possible, as if that would mean no one would notice he had prosthetic legs.  

And me?  

I didn’t talk about it either.  

But Teddy up on stage? It’s a transformation. It’s a quiet kid who didn’t admit he had feelings transformed into this completely different person who owns his feelings in front of fifty strangers. 

Teddy shakes his head.  

Sometimes I find myself

Thinking back to juvie

Locked up for a crime I did not commit

But mostly just another place where a kid with fake legs didn’t fit

He’s shouting now, fifteen years of emotion channeled into these words he wrote with his brother. Pain and loss - more than anyone can even fathom - and a story we’ve all always been too afraid to tell.  

So now I’m here up on stage

Pulling myself out of the cage

I’ve locked myself into 

Like my life, just another challenge to get through 

So mom, dad I’m calling out to you

And you can’t undo

All the things you did to devalue 

This family but I’m telling you

We got through 

I’m saying we turned out okay, and we didn’t need you 

You let me down but I was just a child 

So now all these feelings are left unreconciled 

Like you didn’t give me anything 

But as my parents owed me everything 

Love, care, comfort and attention

And I’m sure how it ended wasn’t your intention 

But actions speak louder than words 

And guess how many of your kids survived you? Two thirds.  

I find myself counting. And then realize he must just be talking about what happened in the car. Lily dead. The twins alive. But no thanks to our father.  

Mom, it’s different because I can’t say I love you but 

I can’t say I hate you ‘cause 

Your choices were so misguided 

And after we collided

With that tree

And we were free

You stepped up to a degree

Until you decided it was easier just not to breathe

Did you know Tyler saw you leave?

Do you understand the kind of scars that leaves

Who did you think you were setting free

Because it certainly wasn’t him or me

Did you forget the mouths you had to feed

Did you know how our hearts would bleed?

And yet, I still hope you found peace 

Because I have to believe 

You deserved that at least

‘Cause I understand that depression’s a beast

And That doesn’t mean

That I don’t wish it hadn’t been your defeat

Teddy stands still for a moment, his face soaked with tears and the crowd applauds loudly. Then Teddy starts to walk off the stage. “Hold up a minute”, the MC says. “That was so well done. I am speechless. The content, the delivery. That was great. How old are you, Teddy?”

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen?” The man asks. “Teddy here is only 15 years old. You have been through more at 15 than most people experience in their lifetimes, and your words are so powerful, and so important, and don’t stop writing. Okay?” 

“Okay.”  

“Did I see you with some family here tonight?”

“My twin brother, Tyler.” Teddy gestures towards Ty, and Ty waves his hand slightly. 

 “He is my sounding board and my best friend. “And my sister and brother-in-law.” Teddy gestures towards me and Miles, and Miles tries to cover his face. “And I want you all to know that they saved our lives. We would be so lost without them.” 

“It’s okay, Miles.” Teddy adds. “They don’t care that you’re a famous athlete.” 

The MC stutters. “Wait a minute. Who’s famous?”  

“My brother-in-law Miles Mizrachi. Promise not to swarm him at the door guys.” Teddy grins. “He might be a pretty good cyclist, but he’s a better dad, and an even better brother.”  

“Alright, we won’t swarm him, as long as he promises to come up here on stage and spit some lines.” 

I expect Miles to beg off, but he nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” The MC grins excitedly.  

“Okay, just no photos or video.” Miles requests. 

“Deal.” The MC agrees, the photographer turns off the camera, and Miles gets on the stage.  

I whisper to Miles, “You sure?”  

And he chuckles. “I’ve got something up my sleeve.” 

I take a video anyway. Because Miles’ spitting rhymes? That, I have to see. And everyone knows wives don’t have to play by the same rules as everybody else.  

Miles takes the mic in his hand, and doesn’t even take a phone out of his pocket. He walks across the stage and starts to speak. Miles, to most of the people in the crowd, is a novelty. An Orthodox Jew who struggled to figure out how being a professional athlete could fit in with the laws of our religion. No work on Shabbat being the largest one of those things.  

 A guy who medaled at the Olympics just a few months ago. He’s rich, he’s famous, he’s athletic and religious, and he’s doing an amazing job helping me raise my little brothers because their parents failed at that. He is so many things I can believe. A poet is not one of those things. 

My dad made me choose between family and religion

Grew up in a society where rules were stringent

Sundown on Friday night

Only one of my friends not in on the nightlife 

Saturday morning usually off to worship

But when I went cycling instead, I was called worthless

My coaches said my talent was emerging

But I was so busy searching

For a way cycling and God could meet

And that’s no easy feat

To compete was to have a heartbeat

But to choose it over God, that was deceit.  

So I remember what it was like to be a teenager

Living when the future felt like imminent danger

And my parents felt like strangers

And everything around me was constantly changing

My coaches said I could be a champion

My father said I’d be an Orthodox Jewish man

Caught between worlds

Which of my lives to toss into the void?

When I met my wife, 

She found a way to slice

away some of the earlier strife

work both my religion and cycling into my life

Saturday morning usually off to worship

But when I go cycling instead, I’m no longer considered worthless

Olympic Medal came from that talent that was emerging

And I’m no longer searching

For a way cycling and God can meet

In truth, it’s no easy feat

To compete is to have a heartbeat

I just pray God doesn’t see it as deceit.  

I still wake up at night

And wonder when to schedule a flight

When to end a decade’s old fight

With no clear end in sight

But what to do when all parties involved are certain they’re right?

You two remind me of what it’s like to have a future that’s bright

Left home at sixteen and it felt so finite

Just know that no matter what happens in your life, we’ll always be in it.

You walk through life thinking you're broken

But no one more resilient has ever spoken

When you came into our lives, that’s the moment

I realized we’d be golden

Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with fear

There’s so much we can’t control or cure

But the two of you

You always pull through

I’ve learned more from a couple kids at fifteen

Than I ever would have believed

I’m so proud of all you’ve achieved

The way you push through even when fatigued

And I still wake up at night

And wonder when to schedule a flight

When to end a decade’s old fight

With no clear end in sight

But what to do when all parties involved are certain they’re right?

You two remind me of what it’s like to have a future that’s bright

Left home at sixteen and it felt so finite

Just know that no matter what happens in your life, we’ll always be in it.

Miles stops talking, and he doesn’t wait for the applause to die down before he makes a beeline back to his seat. I squeeze his arm. “You killed it.” 

“Shit.” The MC says. “Did Teddy write that for you? Or does poetry just run in the family? If cycling doesn’t work out for you, you can definitely spit some rhymes.”  

“I didn’t write it.” Teddy chimes in.  

“Did you know we’d ask you to come up here tonight?” The MC asks him.  

Miles shrugs. “It just popped into my head when Teddy said he was coming to spoken word poetry that maybe I could do it too.”  

It’s Tuesday night. On Tuesday nights, I usually sit on the patio with a glass of wine, make sure the kids are good with their homework, and maybe put in a few hours of work after they go to bed. But tonight, I feel like I could be the kind of woman who takes her brothers and husband to spoken word poetry. It’s this weird little niche coffee shop experience. Most people probably don’t know what it is, and probably would rather never know.  

Beyond just Teddy and Miles’ performances, there’s just been so much honesty up there tonight. So much support from one person to another. So much willingness to back other artists up, no matter their experience, no matter the content of their poems.  

Some people talk about love and some people talk about loss. Some people talk about camping trips and some people talk about the best friend they’ve ever had. Some people even talk about things that if I was a normal parent, I might think Teddy and Tyler were too young to hear about, like sex and rape and abortions. And maybe they are too young, but maybe the things they have to say, are better understood by an older audience too.  

The MC announces some housekeeping things, including the next one, and this one will have a band for backup. Tyler’s eyes light up at that, a combination of music and poetry. “Can we come?” He asks us excitedly, and Miles reassures him that we’ll be there.  

“Will you perform?” Miles asks him.  

“Only if you do.” Ty challenges, and Miles wraps an arm around him, as we walk out.  

“Deal.”