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It is so real. Chapter 1.
blog by Tonya Maria Matthews


It is five days post my 11-day poetry-storytelling blitzkrieg in Washington, D.C. and I am not fully recovered.

Ever tried to explain to somebody that you are exhausted from reciting poetry? People look at you sympathetically and purr about how "cool" that must have been; how much "fun" you had; and "oh. yeah. you must be tired" – but they don't really mean that last part.

But anyone else out there living a double-life, or even the synthesis of two lives, knows exactly what I'm talking about. No man can serve two masters. But Gen X tries really hard, don't we?

Thankfully, the new world order provides opportunities for synthesis, decreasing some of the stress of the double-life approach. Working in the educational non-profit sector has bridged the gap between my PhD and my drive to use it to educate, rather than lecture to, the masses. Furthermore, if you can find one of those almost hip, first-adopter bosses psyched by the idea of living vicariously through a diva vice president, you can even put "spoken word artist" in your job description.

So what's so tiring about all that? It's supported. It's paid. It comes with trips to DC and readings with American poetry icon Sonia Sanchez (who even remembers your name) and health insurance. It even makes you seem more human to your staff. Where is the strain in all that?

The mental shift.

The mental shift from idealistically practical management vision to a vision of practically idealistic empowerment is huge. Re-read that line. Carefully.

Consider these past two weeks as case study… My trip to Washington was part of my role as scholar-advisor to the Smithsonian Folklife Festival.  This year, the Giving Voice: The Power of Words in the African American Community component was not only being curated by the Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage, but also by the National Museum of African-American History and Culture (set to open on The Mall in a few years) whose liaison to the festival was John Franklin, as in son of the John Hope Franklin.

John Franklin and I have a relationship that dates back to my poet-life in Baltimore working on a major storytelling-poetry project for AARP, and a revived relationship in my work-life via the Freedom's Sisters exhibition that Museum Center built and hosted during our 2008 exhibition season.

So that's how I got on the advisory committee. Yes. That "who you know" thing works in the non-profit, save-the-babies-not-the-stock-market world of us tree huggers, too.
I up'd my work-life role of scholar advisor to synthesis-life role of scholar-advisor-performer through well-honed poet-life hustle skills. Rule #1: Always know how to talk yourself onto a stage.

Tired yet? Well, breath deep and grab a power drink because at that stage the real work hadn't even begun.

It isn't simply that this project required 8 months of pre-work advising the festival in conjunction with my daily duties at Museum Center. It isn't the fact that I did my first ever single-day turnaround – flying in at 6am for a full 10-hr work-life day and then flying back out that evening at 8pm to resume poet- and synthesis-life full throttle. It wasn't even the mad DC subway dash to Macy's (yes, Macy's) for a suit and heels required for an impromptu White House meeting on accessibility in the arts.

It is the mental gymnastics that will tire you out. Fundamentally, managing vision through a company – be it profit or social sector – is about competing in your realm to achieve greatness, irrespective of the impetus being arrogance or beneficence. Conversely, cultivating empowerment through art is about acknowledging every person's right to sing kumbaya loudly and giving them the tools to do so in the absence of competition for perfect pitch.

Granted, the gold standard in business is ethical, humanistic management and the pinnacle of art requires disciplined application of craft, but fundamentally we are talking about two very different personas through which you can interact with the world.

Can you imagine me slipping up? Can you see me in a staff meeting beaming with pride, tears of joy rolling down my face, as I rush to hug my Director of Public Programming for his artful balancing of the Culture Fest budget? Perhaps, you can draw a mental picture of me pausing between poetry sets to create a SWOT analysis of a moderately successful open-mic night and suggesting the emcee consider a Meyers-Briggs approach to managing wayward rappers.

This is not left brain-right brain. This is middle brain trying to prevent matter and anti-matter explosions… until we get a critical mass of double-lifers on the rocket ship. (And that's in addition to trying to figure out how I cover-up the afro from 9 to 5, and hide the cuffed Claiborne suiting after dark.)

No question about it: The folk festivals, open mic nights, and underground think tanks across the country are fascinated by my ability to translate across worlds and consider it a valuable asset to mission and movement; conversely, CEOs and executive leadership teams consider my synthesis of double-lives a marketable asset that may ultimately allow dominance in service to non-traditional and 21st century audiences and consumers. It's good to be loved. And has the makings of an awesome resume.

But, this kind of shifting is tiring. Requires constant awareness and mental vigilance. It also requires difficult choices about who to be and when. Radical shifts in language and posture are called for in rapid succession. There are even times when you are expected to convey both existences simultaneously. This is a lot of work. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

So when you blog back, comment or stop me on the street – and I know you will because you've read all the way to the end – tell me about your double life. Tell me how you are or are not choosing to create synthesis and survival mechanisms. Tell me about the double life you are thinking about creating. Because you know us avant-garde, next gen, double-life synthesizers: we're always looking for new tips… and new lives.