Olivia Gatwood - When I Say That We Are All Teen Girls
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- เผยแพร่เมื่อ 22 ม.ค. 2018
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Olivia Gatwood, performing at Icehouse in Minneapolis, MN.
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What are the qualifications to be in your slam?
But why didn’t you write your grandma back??
"What is more teen girl than not being loved, but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb and call yourself full?"
If this isn't me...
I love this so much
Alexandria Pearce she said it right as I read this
SHE DRAGGED ALL OF US I-
How weirdly similar we all are at the core huh...
You and me together
This poem healed something I had left over in me.
hang1iderswing underrated post.
Finally something that uses teen girls as a good thing. I’m sick of being “over dramatic” and “petty”
Teen girls drive language, teen girls have experienced and felt more than so many men. Don't be discouraged just because you're a teen girl, you are more than they will ever be
"What is more teen girl than not being loved, but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb and call yourself full?"
When I say that we are all teen girls,
what I mean is that when my grandmother called to ask why I didn’t respond to her letter,
all I heard was, “Why didn’t you text me back? Why don’t you love me?”
And how can I talk about my grandmother without also mentioning that
if everyone is a teen girl, then so are the birds-
their soaring clicks, their squawking throats.
And the sea, of course, the sea, its moody push and pull,
the way we drill into it, fill it with our trash,
take, take and take from it and it still holds us each time we call its name.
What is more teen girl than not being loved,
but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb
and call yourself full?
What is more teen girl than my father’s favorite wrench,
its eternal loyalty and willingness to loosen the most stubborn of bolts?
What is more teen girl than my mother’s chewed nail beds,
than the whine of the floorboards in her house?
What is more teen girl than my dog Jack,
whose bark is shrill and unnecessary,
who has never stopped a burglar or healed on command,
but sometimes, when I laugh, his tail wags so hard it thumps against the wall.
Sometimes it sounds like a heartbeat; sometimes I yell at him for talking too much,
for his messy room, sometimes I put him in pink-striped polos
and I think he feels pretty; I think he likes to feel pretty,
I think Jack is a teen girl.
And the mountains, oh, the mountains,
what teen girls they are, those colossal show-offs.
And the moon,
glittering, and distant, and dictating all of our emotions.
My lover's tender but heavy breath while she sleeps is a teen girl.
How it holds me,
and keeps me awake all at once.
How sometimes i wish to silence it,
until she turns her body and the room goes quiet and suddenly i want it back.
Imagine, the teen girls gone from our world, and how quickly we would beg for their return,
how grateful would we be then,
for their loud enthusiasm and ability to make a crop top out of anything.
Even the men, who laugh their condescending laughs when a teen girl faints at the sight of her favorite pop star,
even those men are teen girls;
the way they want so badly to be big, and important,
and worshipped by someone.
Donald Trump, teen girl, and his tiny tweeting hands.
Pluto, teen girl, and her rejection from the popular universe.
And my father, a teen girl, who insists he doesn't believe in horoscopes
but wants me to tell him the best traits of a Scorpio.
I tell him, "We were all just teen girls", and my father, having raised me,
recounts the time he found the box of love notes and condom wrappers i hid in my closet,
all of the bloody sheets, the missing socks, the radio blaring over my pitchy sobs.
The time I was certain I would die of heartbreak
and in a moment was in love with a small, new boy.
And of course, there are the teen girls, the real teen girls.
Huddled on a subway after school, limbs draped over each other's shoulders,
bones knocking and awkward wind chime,
and all of the commuters, who plug in their headphones to mute the giggle, silence the gaggle and squeak, not knowing where they learned to do this, to roll their eyes and turn up the music.
Not knowing where they learned this palpable rage, not knowing the teen girls,
who are our most distinguishable professors,
who teach us to bury the burst, until we close our bedroom doors and then cry,
with blood in the neck, foot through the door, face in the pillow.
The teen girls, who teach us to scream.
👏 I've been looking for a text form of this poem for ages tysm👏
Gracias amigos
@@grethidlegend8698 May O offer a correction (and apologies for being "that person")? The dog heeled, not healed.
And thank you so much for typing this out!
"The real teen girls huddled on the subway after school, limbs draped over each other's shoulders, bones knocking an awkward wind chime and all of the commuters who plug in their headphones to mute the giggles, silence the gaggle."
"Teen girls, who are our most distinguished professors. Who teach us to bury the burst until we close our bedroom doors and then cry with blood in the neck foot through the door face in the pillow, the teen girls who teach us to scream"
What I plan on living by as a teacher when teen girls are struggling in my class.
And then people wonder why so many teen girls, myself included unfortunately, went through that stupid "not like other girls" phase. Y'all taught us to be like this and then mocked us for being this way.
I am currently living my last year of teenagehood. This keeps making me realize I didn't appreciate it enough.
Same here
She has a great one called “girl” that’s for all ages
Loona
Olivia Gatwood, the greatest poet of all. I love everything she writes
True
This poem healed a part of me that I didn’t know was broken.
"Even the men who laugh their condenscending laughs when a teen girl faints at the sight of her favorite popstar. Even those men are teen girls, the way they want so badly to be big, and important, and worshipped by someone."
Man as a kpop fan this speaks volumes. People really think hating on us makes them cool.
finally!!! the root of hating kpop/its stans is simply racism and misogyny
Idk how she can just write stuff and when you look at it it doesn t look like it had emotion and then i m all in tears and i don t understand how a line abt a dog in a pink sweater makes me CRY like a baby
I'm a high school teacher and I ADORE this poem, my teenage kids are really amazing professors.
as a teen girl, this poem makes me so amazingly happy.
PLEASE buy her book...it is absolutely amazing. My favorite piece is "Like Us" and I hope she performs it sometime. The first poetry book I ever purchased but I don‘t regret it one bit!
Anna Spi she performed it at her TED Talk!!
Amy Cregan Aaaaaah you just made my life a lot better! Thank you so much for letting me know!
What’s the book called?
Sometimes I just put this poem on repeat because I can't get enough of it. Olivia Gatwood has an incredible ability to romanticize the women who are often disregarded in our culture and dispel myths of unreal, romanticized women. So powerful.
"What is more teen girl than not being loved, but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb and call yourself full."
This speaks to me so deeply. I want to be appreciated and loved so much that whenever someone shows me the smallest bit of kindness or seems to like me, I consider myself happy and say that everything is wonderful just because people aren't horribly mean to me. It is so sad that people want to feel loved so much that they create narratives in their heads and convince themselves that they're happy when they're really not.
Teen girls get a bad rep, which is so sad. I adore how Olivia champions them in an earthy, playful, raucous kind of way. Bravo!
This is perfect timing! Lindsay Ellis just posted a video called Dear Stephenie Meyer about the hate revolving around the Twilight books / movies and how a lot of that comes from the disdain we have for teen girls. I highly recommend it for those who liked this poem.
Sly Bacon lindsay ellis and olivia gatwood, two of my favorite people :)
Honestly I was just thinking the same thing! I just finished watching her video and caved in to watch this poem and my gosh does it make you feel things. :P
Olivia just understands
why am i tearing up at the dog part
my name thor me too
its on Spotify for anyone interested..
I really needed this today. Thank you, Button Poetry. Thank you, Olivia. You inspire me.
This is literally the best, most underrated poem on this channel, like, ever. It gives me chills every time I listen to it and aH it's so gOoD
Olivia makes me so happy!! Oh my gosh, what a fantastic writer-- human in general
This poem is so important
This always makes me cry
Her poetry is so beautiful
I get chills from the way she can put words together that you wouldn't expect and its bold and beautiful and damn
this poem always makes me cry
Ahh I love both of her performances. Olivia and her poetry are a blessing!
I'm glad i found this, thank you button poetry and Olivia, i will sure wait for more from you! :)
"Not knowing where they learned this palpable rage." EXACTLY! Anyone will shit on teen girls for just existing and don't even give it a second thought
so beautiful made my poetry binge on a Friday night amazing, thank you!!!
I always come back for this one. I have her books and I love rereading them, but there's such a beauty in hearing Olivia Gatwood perform. Thank you, Olivia, for writing this and sharing it with the world. And thank you, Button Poetry, for creating and continuing this platform.
When I say that we are all teen girls
What I mean is that when my grandmother called to ask me why I didn’t respond to her letter
All I heard was
”Why didn’t you text me back?”
“Why don’t you love me?”
And how can I talk about my grandmother
Without mentioning that if everyone is a teen girl
Then so are the birds
Their soaring cliques
Their squaking throats
And the sea,
of course the sea
It’s moody push and pull
The way we drill into it,
fill it with our trash,
Take and take and take from it and still
It holds us each time we call its name
What is more teen girl
Than not being loved but wanting it so badly that you accept the smallest crumb,
And call yourself full
What is more teen girl
Than my father’s favorite wrench,
It’s eternal loyalty and willingness to loosen the most stubborn bolts
What is more teen girl
Than my mother’s chewed nail beds,
Than the whine of the floorboards in her house
What is more teen girl
Than my dog Jack
Whose bark is shrill and unnecessary
And has never stopped a burglar, or heeled on command
But sometimes when I laugh,
His tail wags so hard it thumps against the wall
Sometimes it sounds like a heartbeat
Sometimes I yell at him for talking too much, for his messy room
Sometimes I put him in pink striped polos and I think he feels pretty
I think he likes to feel pretty
I think Jack is a teen girl
And the mountains, Oh the mountains
What teen girls they are
Those colossal show-offs
And the moon
Glittering and distant and dictating all of our emotions
My lover’s tender but heavy breath while she sleeps is a teen girl
How it holds me and keeps me awake
All at once
How sometimes I wish to silence it, until she turns her body,
And the room goes quiet and suddenly I want it back
Imagine,
The teen girls gone from our world
And how quickly we would beg for their return
How greatful would we be then,
With their loud enthusiasm and ability to make a crop top out of anything
Even the men
Who laugh their condescending laugh
when a teen girl faints at the sight of her favorite pop star
Even those men are teen girls
The way they want so badly to be big,
Important and worshipped by someone
Donald Trump, teen girl
And his tiny tweeting hands
Pluto, teen girl
And her rejection from the popular universe
And my father, a teen girl
Who insists he doesn’t believe in horoscopes,
But wants me to tell him the best traits of a scorpio
I tell him
We were all just teen girls
And my father having raised me
Recounts the time he found the box of love notes and condom wrappers I hid in my closet,
All of the bloody sheets
The missing socks
The radio blaring over my pitchy sobs
The time I was certain I would die of heartbreak
And in a moment,
Was in love with a small new boy
And of course
There are the teen girls,
the real teen girls
Huddled on the subway after school
Limbs draped over each others shoulders,
Bones knocking an awkward windchimes
And all of the commuters
Who plug in their headphones to mute the giggle,
Silence the gaggle and squeak,
Not knowing where they learned to do this,
To roll their eyes and turn up the music
Not knowing where they learned this palpable rage
Not knowing the teen girls
Who are our most distinguished professors,
Who teach us to bury the burst
Until we close our bedroom doors and then cry,
With blood in the neck
Foot through the door
Face in the pillow
The teen girls,
Who teach us to scream
She is my biggest inspiration... I want to write poetry when I get older... She is also probably my FAVORITE female poet of all time
This was stunning. Loved every line.
I've been looking for this for like 2 months and it just showed up in my reccomend
Years later, I still find myself coming back to this poem.
She is absolutely brilliant!
I’ve probably listened too this too many times.
beautiful!!
I love this.
So good!!!
This is stunning
This is amazing❤️ As a teen girl, I understand this so much
This... Is...
You know what, this thing doesn’t desrve words, it deserves unworded appreciation...
Thank you so much for stopping me from doing something i would regret
I love this
Yep. This hit it on the dot.
Yes.
i cant get enough of these
if she wrote an autobiography i'd be the happiest person alive
Oh wowwww
gracias a la hermosa persona que puso subtítulos en español
I am in love with her words, always
ahhhh, making me feel things. being a teen girl has never been made so beautiful. thank you Olivia❤️
God I love every single one of her poems.
i could listen to her poetry forever! 💗
Olivia!
W O W 💯🎇
I'm a simple person. I see Olivia, I click.
good way to be
If this doesn’t fill you with feelings then I don’t know what will.
Awesome! ❤
Every time I listen to this I always have tears in my eyes.
So so brilliant
Great job olivia!! 😍💕😍💕
the fuck i LOVE THIS
Question. When referring to her dog Jack and dressing him up And thinking that he feels pretty, is she saying that in a good way or the bad way? Personally I took it as people trying to over feminize teenagers girls without giving them proper space to exist and figure out what they want in life. What did y’all think?
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Already watched this on slam find but watching again because it's Olivia
Olivia Gatwood is officially my favorite female poet.
Ishaq Al-Zaeem I really liked her duo poem Rape Joke
Yeeeeeeeeesss thank you Olivia. For your voice, that moves me before your words do ❤️
I love love love it !
So obsessed with her poetry.
omg i love this
One of my favorites fucking ever
Then so are the birds
♡
I own this book and it’s amazing 😫
Love 💓
I love herrr
I cried
❤️
God i love her so much💜💜💜
AMAZING
Love it
Wow !!
Does anyone know if this poem is published
Olivia is absolutely fkkkin amazing
❤️❤️❤️
What is more teen girl than reading your poem on your cell? 😉💗
Repost?
"donald trump, teen girl, and his tiny tweeting hands"
Olivia😍
WHEN I SAY THAT WE ARE ALL TEEN GIRLS
by Olivia Gatwood
When I say that we are all teen girls,
what I mean is that when my grandmother
called to ask why I didn’t respond to her letter,
all I heard was, Why didn’t you
text me back? Why don’t you love me?
And how can I talk about my grandmother
without also mentioning that if everyone
is a teen girl, then so are the birds, their soaring
cliques, their squawking throats,
and the sea, of course, the sea,
its moody push and pull, the way we drill
into it, fill it with our trash, take and take
and take from it and still it holds us
each time we call its name (walk into it).
What is more teen girl than not being
loved but wanting it so badly
that you accept the smallest crumb and call
yourself full; what is more teen girl than
my father’s favorite wrench, its eternal loyalty
and willingness to loosen the most stubborn of bolts;
what is more teen girl than my mother’s chewed
nail beds, than the whine of the floorboards in her
house?
What is more teen girl than my dog, Jack,
whose bark is shrill and unnecessary,
who has never (once) stopped a burglar
or heeled on command but sometimes
when I laugh, his tail wags
so hard it thumps against the wall, sometimes
it sounds like a heartbeat, sometimes I yell at him
for talking too much, for his messy room,
sometimes I put him in pink, striped polos
and I think he feels pretty,
I think he likes to feel pretty,
I think Jack is a teen girl.
and the mountains, oh, the mountains,
what teen girls they are, those colossal show-offs,
and the moon, glittering and distant
and dictating all of our emotions.
My lover’s tender but heavy breath while she sleeps
is a teen girl, how it holds me and keeps
me awake all at once, how sometimes I wish
to silence it, until she turns her body and
the room goes quiet and suddenly I want it back.
Imagine the teen girls gone from our world,
and how quickly we would beg for their return,
how grateful would we be then for their loud
enthusiasm
and ability to make a crop top out of anything.
Even the men who laugh their condescending laughs
when a teen girl faints at the sight of her
favorite pop star, even those men are teen girls,
the way they want so badly to be big
and important and worshipped by someone.
Donald Trump -- teen girl and his tiny-tweeting hands
Pluto-- teen girl, and her rejection
from the popular universe,
and my father, a teen girl, who insists he doesn’t
believe in horoscopes but wants me to tell
him about the best traits of a Scorpio,
I tell him, We are all just teen girls,
and my father, having raised me, recounts the time he
found the box of love notes and condom wrappers I
hid in my closet, all of the bloody sheets, the missing
socks,
the radio blaring over my pitchy sobs,
the time I was certain I would die of heartbreak
and in a moment was in love with a small, new boy,
and of course there are the teen girls,
the real teen girls, huddled on the subway
after school, limbs draped over each other’s shoulders
bones knocking, an awkward wind chime
and all of the commuters, who plug in their
headphones
to mute the giggle, silence the gaggle and squeak,
not knowing where they learned to do this,
to roll their eyes and turn up the music,
not knowing where they learned this palpable rage,
not knowing the teen girls, who are our most distinguished
professors, who teach us to bury the burst
until we close our bedroom doors,
and then cry with blood in the neck,
foot through the door, face in the pillow,
the teen girls who teach us to scream.
So, where are the poems about buttons?
😂😂😂
Wow can I be her