Keisha Thompson is a Manchester based writer, performance artist and producer. She is also the Artistic Director and CEO of Contact theatre, Manchester, Chair of radical arts funding body, Future’s Venture Foundation, an ITC board member and recipient of The Arts Foundation Theatre Makers Award 2021. Before embarking on her role at Contact, Keisha was Senior Learning Programme Manager for The World Reimagined, a national arts education programme promoting racial justice. She holds a degree in Philosophy and Politics from the University of Manchester, and a PGCE in Mathematics.
My talk is on the Kwanzaa principle: Kujichagulia – Self-Determination
Oysters
You are in the top ten
percentile of the country
the world is your oyster
I never thought it wasn’t
until he stated the obvious
this Old Boy was trying to
tell me something
it wasn’t that I deserved
to go to Cambridge
neither was it that I should
apply to a girls’ college
they have a higher
ethnic minority population
it was that oysters are
expensive, Latin-bone grey
not very tasty
why should I want my world
to be an oyster?
We have to be aware of the labels that may be pinned on us in order to navigate them / decide if they can be useful to us
People will place their expectations on us. It is good to be aware of any stereotypes that may be linked to those.
This poem is about the way that I was encouraged to apply to Cambridge during my time at college. It appeared that it was because I was gifted and talented according to the statistics but it became apparent that it would look good for the college to send a black girl from South Manchester. They did not think about what I wanted, what impact it would have on my family, they did not consider the culture shock I would have to experience (I got a flavour at the interview) and they did not talk about the drop-out rates or other "flaws" attached to the Oxbridge experience.
Challenge and Perseverance
Fib 13 - Timbuktu
Your • god • exists • without
you • our history • will not
numbers don’t need us to
• count them but who will
count you as you freefall
backwards • into your
scriptures
I can no longer sit in a church
as they name the creator •
papier-mache sacred pages
until they have sculpted
themselves pronounced the
unknown harmonised their
ignorance
like the many • who believe
that Timbuktu did not exist
Black Excellence is the butt
of a joke - a lyric in a racist
song - greatness reduced
to myth. Can we be better
than this? You taught me to
question without questioning yourself.
After the awareness of yourself and how you are perceived in the world, you then have to challenge those things. Question what has been fed to you. Question the status quo.
This poem is about my relationship with my dad and religion. He was a Christian and converted to Islam so I had religion pressed upon me two-fold. As I got older, I started to question the ideas I had been fed and where they came from.
Sometimes taking this path can be lonely and not provide much in the way of immediate gratification but it is about thinking in the long-run.
Curiosity and Imagination
Alchemy
What is it about gold
for years you’ve tried to explain
one part of me edges forward
a child at the zoo feeding the manatees
you say this life is an acid test
just words to a girl looking at the sun for too long
when no one is listening you call yourself
Mansa Musa - clambering up your isoceles of hope
your ash-mouth your greying corona I want to call you
dandelion. A glowing rebellion to those who call you for superstition.
I am waiting eyes squinted for the day when you will blind me - extract the self
from the doubt: become light become red become dawn become aurum.
Aurum.
Au.
After challenging, there will be clear space for you to refill. A blank canvas ready for self-definition.
This requires curiosity and imagination. It is a continuous journey.
Often the word imagination is treated as something to be associated with childhood that is a frivolous thing. However, I am aware that my imagination is skill. I have the ability to see an alternative reality and share that with others.
This poem pays homage to my dad and his wonderful obsession with alchemy - making gold out of base metal. I strive every day to become a better version of myself. Use the things that have been handed to me and turn them into gold.