This series voices ladies in our community who inspire and passionately serve. Elzette shares the importance of staying true to your calling and passion. Her gift is to use words to give others a voice. You were also created to bring something unique to the table; ARE YOU READY?
Finding my voice; writing what I’m like
(Apologies to Mr Biko)
By Elzette Boucher
Radio Creative (copy writer) & Maanvrou (wannabe performing poet)
Hallo there, pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m the ‘moron’ who writes the ‘clever lines’ to peddle products. You know, to get you to buy things you don’t need with money you don’t have to impress people you don’t like (stole that one from the Fight Club guy, Chuck Palahniuk).
Yes, there is a person such as myself. The copywriter. Usually stuffed away in a little broom closet (my office is quite spacious and sunny at least) literally typing through keyboards, boxed in by briefs and bookings.
Now, it’s already paragraph three, so you must be wondering: what does this have to do with finding a voice? Well, having to give so many people voices each day, it’s quite easy to lose your own, or even worse, never have the opportunity to develop it.
I’m not talking vocal exercises here (we’ll leave those for Adele and Beyoncé), I’m referring to that innermost part of your soul that sometimes wants to explode from your chest. That part yearning to be expressed because you’re either just so happy (not usually the case), you’ve had an epiphany or because some kind of injustice or hurt has touched your soul.
It’s crucial that this sacred part of us does not get silenced, especially by ourselves. Don’t be your own hater; there are enough of those out there already.
I first started writing poetry in high school. Teenage angst does that to most of us. I started out in English because that was what I was reading most of the time. But it was mostly a bit contrived.
It was only at varsity where I began exploring my mother tongue, Afrikaans.
One of my friends gave me a set of fridge poetry and my writing experiments started midnights, plonked on a pillow in front of my little bar fridge in res. Led by random selections my thoughts and emotions flowed unfiltered unto the cold, white metal.
My writing became more ‘real’, completely honest and raw. But I dared not show anyone, yet.
As I fell in and out of love, learned all too many valuable lessons and gained myself some ‘real’ life experience, I suddenly felt the need to scribble all the time. I no longer needed the little magnetic words to guide me. Soon there were lines on everything from my notebooks to container lids.
But still, I did not share (not with too many people anyway).
Fast forward to a career as a journalist, stint as foreign English language teacher and now copywriter and creative at a radio station. I wrote a few columns for a blog, made notes for poems on my phone and entered some competitions, but mostly only what I was required to for my nine to five job.
It was only when I started posting my work on an online poetry forum that I realised that my voice could also speak for someone else. My most famous example was a poem that I wrote using Schizophrenia as a metaphor for how a person can become estranged from oneself due to beliefs or doubts. I received a comment from a person living with the disorder that they appreciated the understanding and support.
Many years passed before I started performing my work. I was watching someone else perform at a reading and I ‘received’ an idea for a complete show, then and there. I was determined. I started compiling my works into a script.
When the opportunity presented itself, I joined a performance group. This eclectic mix of like-minded individuals enabled me to create honest, endearing experiences. Because I’m still a bit shy, I perform my work through a character I created. Someone, who is still very real, but can speak freely with fewer consequences.
And, honestly (and please don't take this as boasting), after each show, someone always comes up to me. Many times not to compliment necessarily but because they felt compelled to share. Some say they’ve always felt the way I described but never had the words; others feel freed and empowered that someone had the gall to say the things I did; and even (this has happened more than once), that they felt I was speaking directly to them, that my message was just for them. And there I thought I was just yammering on. Maybe words are magic. Maybe that’s why you need to say something while you swing a wand – we learn this from any Harry Potter movie.
And now I'm convinced, because it's been proven time and time again, that it's necessary to respond to that so-called 'little voice' inside yourself, because it might not be so small to someone else. It might be as subtle as an encouraging whisper or even an invasive resounding shout to call to order.
So, it's been a long journey for me to find my truth, speak my peace and share the message.Not all will listen, not all will shower you with adulation. You might be brushed off, ignored and disregarded. But the voice will keep calling. It starts with you giving it a listen.