The Moth - The Moth Radio Hour: Hear Me Roar

Episode Date: June 15, 2021

In this hour, stories of female strength. Mothers you don't mess with and women, who stick to their guns (and goals). This episode is hosted by Moth Artistic director Catherine Burns. The Moth Radio hour is produced by The Moth and Jay Allison of Atlantic Public Media. Hosted by: Catherine Burns Storytellers: Kathleen Turner, Cola Rum, Rhonda Williams, Rhonda Sternberg, Chantal Lyons, Amanda Gorman

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slash Houston to experience a live show near you. That's theMoth.org forward slash Houston. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Catherine Burns. This time, stories about feisty women, women taking charge, making changes, and standing up for themselves. We'll

hear about a frustrated housewife in Great Britain, and a southern mama who's had it with her son. And then young poet Amanda Gorman finds courage while auditioning for the Lion King. If the voice of this first storyteller sounds familiar, it's because you've probably heard it before. Kathleen Turner's career spans many decades. She's known for her iconic voice, beauty, and presence, and as someone who stands up for herself and others. The story was recorded at a live performance at Alice Tully Hall at Levensoner for the

Performing Arts in New York City. Here's Kathleen Turner, live at the mall. What evening. I was sitting at my kitchen table in the flat I was staying in London. I was reading the front page story of a British tabloid. I was in London to play Mrs. Robinson in the play The Graduate. Now the story, which was the front page story, was about a woman who was washing machine broke down. And so she called repairman. And he came, but without any kind of tools or equipment. And so she asked, why? And he said, well, I had to be sure there was a problem first, didn't I?

So they made an appointment for the next day day and he came back with the wrong part. So, they made an appointment for the following day and he never showed up. She called and he said he was on another call and he wouldn't get there that day. So, finally, the next day, he pulled up in his truck and she told him that she had to run out for a few errands but she'd be right back. Why didn't he pull the truck up into the driveway to get it, keep it off the street and he did that. So she drove around the block and she pulled up inside behind the truck and she informed him that he would not be leaving until the washer was fixed. I thought you go girl. Now why this was the front page story I've never quite been sure.

The production company had given me a lovely flat in South Kensington. The top two floors of a four-storey brown zone. And the third floor had the kitchen and living room, dining room. And the fourth floor, the top floor, had three bedrooms. Two were in the front facing the street. And a window seat ran along beneath the windows, and the third was in the back, facing the gardens, and that was my room.

Well, I brought along a young assistant named Jesse, who'd never left the country before. I thought of my door some good. In any case, she didn't seem to be adapting as well as I had really hoped. And she kept telling me that she was hearing strange noises in the apartment, in the flat. And I would listen, and I wouldn't hear anything. And I'd sort of say, OK, you know, OK, of course, it must be something. And one night I got home from the show,

and she was almost hysterical. And she said, all right, she figured it out. There was someone on the roof. So I called the police. And they were very nice. And they came, and they went on the roof, and they came down and informed us that, no, there was nothing on the roof and they came down and informed us that no, there was nothing on the roof.

So one night I was sleeping and she came into the room shaking me, waking me up and saying, you have to come, you have to come now! So I rushed into her bedroom and yes, yes there are strange noises and they seem to be coming from the window box, the window seat. So I got a fireplace poker and I pride up the top of the window seat, only to find dozens upon dozens of happy pigeons making their home. Oh, well Jesse slept on the sofa downstairs that night. And the first thing in the morning, I call the Kensington Borough, yeah, and they give me the Department of Wildlife or something.

And I try to tell the woman, you know, that what's going on. I said, no, no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. All the pigeons in or out. I said, they're in. That's the problem. Oh, no, no, sorry, we only do out. So I called an exterminator and he showed up and guess what? Without any tools, without any equipment. I asked him why he had nothing with him and he said, wow, I have to be sure there's a problem first, no, I just called because I felt lonely. Well, he took one look and agreed that yes, it needed exterminating. So he would come back the next day with all the means to do so.

Meanwhile, Jesse and I were to empty those bedrooms of everything movable of. The mattress, the bedding, the pillows, the clothing, everything, means to do so. Meanwhile, Jesse and I were to empty those bedrooms of everything movable of. The mattress, the bedding, the pillows, the clothing, everything, anything we could move, had to come out so he could fumigate, which we did. And the next day, he didn't sew up. And I called him and he said, well,

we said, I'll live in Emma Smith. And I said, yeah. We said, well, the said, I'll live in Emma Smith. And I said, yeah. We said, well, the bridge is closed, didn't it? I said, there are seven others. Well, I'm getting pretty upset now, huh? So I call the production office. And I tell them, I'm not living this way. I'm not living with a bunch of pigeons in my house.

So you need to help me. You have to do something about this. So the doorbell rings, and it works. This young man, clearly an intern, with a butterfly net. with a butterfly net. So I called the producer. And I said, here's the deal. Either you clean out my flat, or I'm on a plane back to New York.

But meanwhile, tonight, Jesse and I are going to go to the most expensive hotel I can find in London. And you will pay for that. Well, sure enough, that place got cleaned out. And when I went back and they proudly showed me the empty, cleaned window seat boxes, I said, this is great, thank you. I said, so I guess. I guess you found the hole. And they said the hole. I said, yes, where the birds come in? Oh, yeah. Now, the play was a great success in London, and so the producers said, well, okay, now we go to Broadway.

Now I don't know if all of you know this or anybody, but there is a scene in the graduate where Mrs. Robinson stands naked for 23 seconds. I said no. No, no, no. Americans are so screwed up about sex. We are such hypocrites. I don't need that shit. So I do go on a tour of another play. I got a script that described the lead woman as 37, but still attractive. Well, that really pissed me off. And so I called the British producers and said, guess what? We're going the Broadway. And so I played Mrs. Robinson on Broadway, fully nude at 48.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! But the best part is, um, were the letters I got from women my age. I will never forget, I think the one I love the most,

was a woman who wrote to me, I have not undressed in front of my husband for 10 years, and I am going to tonight. LAUGHTER APPLAUSE Among Kathleen Turner's numerous accolades, our golden globes for romancing the Stone and Pritzies Honor and Academy Award nomination for Peggy Suga married, Tony Award nominations for Katana Hot-Tin Ruth and Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf,

and two Grammy nominations. She's also the best-selling author of the memoir, Cinder Self-Roses and the book, Turner on acting. Kathleen was a delightful collaborator. Before every show we do a big group rehearsal at the Moth Office. During the rehearsal for her show, one of the other storytellers was a bit nervous and struggled to get through his story. All of a sudden, Kathleen jumped out of her chair and encouraged her fellow castmate to just shake it out, go ahead, shake it out! And so we all stood up and we shook it out.

We sat back down and he was able to finish his story. It felt like magic. Coming up, a producer fights to use her own voice in her movie, a grandmother contemplates buying trendy jeans, and a young man from Atlanta gets a verbal smackdown from his mama. That's when the Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Katherine Burns.

In this hour, we're talking about women owning their own power. We're turning now to our Atlanta Story Slams series, a repartner with Georgia Public Radio, with a love letter to his powerful mom, here's Cola Rum. around. John Gory Jr. High Basketball Court is what we congregated. A napahedad menagerie or habitual mama rule breakers. Teenage maternal law transgressors from the hood. Routing recalcitrants from the slums who only respected the reasoning in our mother's

rules if they were backed by the ride in their hands. In other words, we would them loud ghetto kids that regularly needed our hands as worked. And every few days one of our mothers would come to the park to bolster their actuality. Her distant approach being trumpeted with the loud forewarning of, here come your mama by some snidey nose kid on a periphery of the park, which was seen the target individual into panic, and everyone else anticipating laughter, at his imminent beat down from breaking one of his mama's rules.

Or we laughed in the north-roab screens when John John's mother took an extension cord to his hide for cussing out sister Anne at the corner church. We how'd in the fit of cackles when childy boys mama went out with her purse for stealing money out of her purse. I was the snidey nose kid on the periphery of the park who yelled, Baudi, here come your mama.

Before Miss Davis marched into the park and reinforced her rules with an old school army belt. Vorius was our line, spectacle hungry juveniles, were dark sense of humor, who viewed the ass who things of our peers as free entertainment. Now, even though I was a contemporary and held intimate knowledge of the wrong, I did hold one distinction over my fellow mama rule breakers. My mother had never come to the park, because my mother was

different. My mother was too cultured and civilized to discipline me in public like some section 8 Hoodrat. At least that's what I thought. Until that faithful day when God let me know that air was quintessential to my existence also. I was sitting on the park bench with my friend, Gargamel, listening to run DMC on his boombox. When I heard it, resigned through the air

like the calling of some exotic ghetto bird. Cola, here come your mama, which I didn't believe until the entire park, who had turned towards the direction of the voice, slowly turned back around instead at me with sadistic greens on their faces. That said, it's a balfon diamond. I still didn't want to believe it until she entered the park with slitted eyes,

purse lifts, and clinched jaws, hence the face of a woman who was about to whoop a child's ass. She didn't have a belt or purse or an extension call. Straps didn't work on me. At 13 years old, I was already six, too. But my mother was six, three. And took up pound of flesh with four arms and elbows. She said, didn't I tell you to quit leaving my kitchen dirty whenever you cook,

because that's how you get roaches. When the road roaches came out of her mouth, then Thai-asena, the crime appeared in my mind. An open container of pancake batter on the countertop. Floured it real on the stove. A half-eaten pancake sitting in a plate of maple syrup left sitting in the sink. That's a grocery store for roaches. I wanted to tell my mother I didn't clean up because I had to get to the park to hang out with the fellas.

They needed me. But I looked into her eyes and saw the laws that government mama ruling force men. And I knew that the ass whooping coming was none negotiable. So I decided to break another one of her rules, which was don't you ever run from me. Hey, the decision was simple math.

Two ass whoopens at home was a lot more palatable than one in the park. And she must have saw the decision in my mind because she abruptly attacked. I counted her attack with a fake to the left and a spin to the right. She counted my count on the left forums wing, which I ducked up under, then took it to the house

as the entire park exploded in the laughter. Yeah, I was a bitch-wool mama rule breaker who only respected the reasoning of my mother's rules if they were bike by the rod in her hand. A transgressor maternal law who had determined on that faithful day that the rod that my mother used would be administered in private. Thank you. Kola Rahm is a poet, spoken word artist, writer and novelist from Jacksonville, Florida,

who has lived in Atlanta for the past 25 years. She's published two Gothic comedy novels. We asked Kola if he had any further thoughts about his strong mama after telling this story. He writes, another black mother who didn't tolerate her unruly child. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ Now we're going to hear a story from our Denver Story Slam, where we partner with KU&C. Here's Ronda Williams. As part of my day job, I make riveting, action-packed, sexy, institutional films. I'm talking those films that your company forces you to watch about compliance, security,

and fraud. So, on my last project, they asked me to do the voiceover for the movie. I'm known for delivering. I'm known for coming in under budget. And if I did that voiceover, I was gonna save a big chunk of change because I wasn't gonna pay for voiceover talent. I didn't really care if I did the voiceover one way or the other,

but I'm known for delivering. So I said, okay, sure. Now they picked two of the four voiceover talents, but they said who we really wanted you. So I said, I'll talk to the director. I'll let you know. So I emailed the director, and I say to him, they loved the film. They have a couple of graphical edits that they want to make,

and then they picked these two of the voice-over talents. But their top pick for the voiceover is me. I got an email back almost instantly, and he said, glad they liked the film. The edits shouldn't take that long, just send over the artwork, about the voiceover. In my professional opinion, this project requires a professional voiceover talent.

Somebody who's going to bring the spirit and energy to this project. But ultimately, it's your project, so we can talk about it. I thought to myself, oh, he probably thinks I'm trying to fulfill some bucket list thing. He's just doesn't know, I don't really care one way or the other. I just got to deliver, and I'm bringing this project in under budget. I'll just call him. So I call him Mike. And I say, hey, yeah, about the voiceover.

I mean, the project team just wants me to do it. I just want to deliver. Either way, it doesn't matter to me. I'm going to go with your recommendation one way or the other. This is a five minute conversation. And in that five minute conversation, he tells me three times that I'm not a professional voice over talent, three times in five minutes.

First time he said it to me, I knew he was just telling me his professional opinion. Second time, Lilla Noah. Third time, I thought, what the flaxo! You know what? I don't even care about making this thing, but now here you say,

I can't do it, or I can do it. And you know what? I'm gonna do it. And you know what? I'm gonna do it. And you know what else? Where I do it? I'm gonna make you drink a big cup of shut up. That's what's gonna happen.

That's what's gonna happen. That's what's gonna happen. That's what I say. But what I say on the phone is. That's what I say. That's what I say. That's what I say. That's what I say. My, the project team wants me so let me know when you book the studio and then I'll

be there. So the day comes to do the voiceover and I arrive at the studio and what you need to know is everything that's happened has been through email. Nothing has been face-to-face. So this is our first face to face. So I come to the studio and he says, hey, I know that voice. Glad to meet you. I say, it's good to be here. And I remind him about that five minute conversation where he told me three times that I wasn't a professional voice over talent. I say, you know, you told me three times. I wasn't a professional voiceover talent.

I say, you know, you told me three times. I wasn't a professional voiceover talent. The first time, you know, I knew what you were trying to say, second time I was a little annoyed. Third time I thought to myself, you know, he's right. So yeah. I have a friend that does voiceover, so I worked with her and she helped me work out my script. And she told me a couple of tips I can do. And then you know what else you told me doing that conversation. You said, oh, I don't know. Maybe you have some hidden talent. Well, I do.

You know what, Mike? I sing. And to sing, you need to do breathing exercises. So I work with my voice coaching. I do a couple of breathing exercises. So I'm ready to do this. If you want to do it right now, let's just go in the booth. He says, you know, I didn't mean to offend you. I mean, you have a nice voice. So why don't we just do a read through? I go, yeah, let's do the read through. So we do the read through and that's just basically, I'm just reading the script and he's coaching me, hey can you say this, you know, a little more force, hey can you say this a little softer. And then we walk over to go do the booth.

As we're walking over to go into the booth, he casually says to me, yeah you know professional would like knock this out in 15 minutes. Again with the professional. Here's the thing, when I worked with the professional. Here's the thing. When I worked with the professional, she let me know. The projects like this, for the size of text that I was going to have to read, those usually come in under 16 minutes.

And then after 60 minutes, people start getting nervous. So there you go. 15 minutes, 60 minutes. She told me I was more than competent to be able to do this in 60 minutes. So we go into the booth. And the engineer is trying to work through some things, get things ready, he's testing, hey, Ryan,

can you say a couple things? So I make sure my instrument's here working, he goes, you know what, I'm not getting everything. Can you just keep talking? I said, sure, I can just keep making some sounds. So I sing. And the director looks and he's like, hey, you're pretty good. And I was like, oh, thanks.

So then they say, OK, we're ready. And so I read that text. And I do it in under 30 minutes. And then my friend had also told me that I was in the unique position, that I was not only the client, but I was the talent. So when I came out, that I had the opportunity to tell him what I liked and what I didn't like. And so I came out and I told him exactly what I liked, what I didn't like, and it was in the can. Here's the thing. When I look back on that experience, that's one of those things that,

you know, in corporate America, we would call a learning opportunity. So here's what Mike learned. You don't know on first, if somebody's capable. And what I learned is that champions embrace the challenge. Champions don't skip the steps. They do the work. And champions, they don't back down.

They stand their ground. And so the next time somebody comes at me with, you're not a professional. I'll be ready to serve them a big cup of shut up. And so the next time somebody comes at me with your Nana professional, I'll be ready to serve them a big cup of shut up. That was Rondo Williams. Ronda is a communication manager in the financial services industry who volunteers her time at her church's food bank and still dabbles in voiceover work. After the events of this story, Ronda worked with the director on the project for another group at her job

and he couldn't help singing her praises and recommending that they use her as a voiceover talent. Good man! Often being a strong woman means taking risks. This next story was told by another woman named Ronda. It was recorded at the Housing Works Bookstore in New York City, where WNYC is a media partner of demand. blue jeans, and I hate getting blue jeans because I always feel too fat and I hate having to deal with the sizes and going to a bigger size and all that kind of stuff. So I go into the gap and I pick out a few pair and I go into the dressing room to try one on or to try them on. And the first ones I try on, I happen to look at it and they're a size smaller than I usually get and I thought oh this is a mistake, but let me

try them on anyway and I put my leg in the first one and I thought oh shoot they're ripped, they're torn at the knee. So I thought, well, I'm going to try them on anyway, just in case they fit, and then I can get another pair without the tear. But then I put my left leg in the other one, and I say, well, that's torn at the knee too. How could this be? And then I said, oh my God, these are ripped jeans. This is what the kids get. I'm 73 years old, I can't have ripped jeans. However, they fit, and they fit in the smaller size,

and they felt good, and I felt a little sexy, so I said, well, so I said, well, let me go look at them in the mirror. So I go out into the three-way mirror, and I'm looking at them, and I say to the sales guy who was this young, adorable guy, probably 22, 23 years old. He was perfectly dressed. And he said, they look good.

And I said, but I'm 73 years old and he said there's no aged as the style you can do it and I said but Rip jeans what will my friends say and you say he says you tell them it means freedom so well freedom is okay so I'm looking at them I said, look, I can go get you another pair. I can get you the same genes that without the rip and I'm thinking, but God, what if they don't fit and then they're the smaller size and all of that. And there's a piece of me that actually wanted the rip genes, but I didn't know what to do and this other saleswoman was there. And she said, you know, maybe you need to start small.

And I said, what do you mean they're as small as I can get? And she said, no, no, I mean, just a little rip, you know, a little rip at the top, not the knees. That's kind of advanced ripped jeans, but a little rip at the top would be good. So I said, no, no, if I do this, I'm going all the way in. So I looked at the guy and I said, you know, your grandmother wouldn't do this.

And he said, oh, my grandmother would do this. And I said, really? I said, and I'm looking at him. And I thought, well, maybe his grandmother is like 50. And I said, so how old is your grandmother? And he said, she is 75. And I said, 75, and she wears ripped jeans. And he said, yes.

And she's gorgeous, stunning. So I took them. And there's a PS to this. I feel that even if I feel I'm really a beautiful person on the inside, sometimes it's just okay to be vain. Thank you. She's a psychologist in private practice and teaches in the city college. She's currently writing a play about seniors living well. We ask her how actually wearing the jeans out into the world felt. Ronda shared that she loved wearing her ripped jeans.

She wrote, I wore them happily. Spins and jeans are the best. I wore them in the city college. I wore them in the city college. I jeans out into the world felt. Ronda shared that she loved wearing her ripped jeans. She wrote, I wore them happily. It's been so fun. My younger students thought I looked cool.

While friends, my own age said, good salesmen. I answered, yes, but not in the way you think. I believe then and still believe that we connected. The deep got me and the he spoke from his heart. Coming up, a woman struggling with arthritis decides to swim the English Channel, and the young Amanda Gorman auditions for the Lion King on Broadway. That's when the Moth Radio Hour continues. I believe in Merkel. It's a camel, oh, you sex with me. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts

and presented by the Public Radio Exchange, PRX.org. and presented by the Public Radio Exchange, PRX.org. This is the Moth Radio Hour from PRX. I'm Katherine Burns. In this hour, we're hearing stories about women who left their comfort zones behind. Like our next storyteller, who comes to us from our London Story Slam. Here's Shontal Lianz live at the Moth.

Everyone wants to make that parents proud, right? My dad is a marathon runner, and I was a couch potato for most of my life until I was 23 when I took up running. I hated it at first, but I stuck to it, and I started to realise why my dad loved it so much. I decided that just like him, I was going to run Marathons. The only thing was that for a while I had been feeling some pain in my hips and my back and the running made it worse. So I went to the GP and I got tests and I was told that I had something called Ankylosing spondylitis, which I found out was a type of arthritis, and it's genetic and it is degenerative. And actually before I want to go any further I want to rewind back to when I was 13 years old and I was on a summer holiday in New Yorker with my family.

One morning I was sleeping in, as I usually did, and my dad went out water skiing and he had an accident. My dad was run over by a speedboat and the propeller cut through most of his left arm and he was saved and the arm was saved but we didn't know if it would ever work again. a'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r fforddd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r fforddd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r ffordd o'r f But fortunately, no one is more stubborn than my dad. So even though the nerve was too badly damaged to be fully repaired, he found ways around it and he did go back to work. And years later, when I was diagnosed with arthritis, I was terrified. I was so scared of the word degenerative and knowing that for me recovery would not be an option. I had to say goodbye

to that vision of that final sprint down the mall in London. I actually had to give up running completely because my body couldn't handle it. But I thought about my dad and how after the accident he had just flowed around all the obstacles in his path. He worked so hard to get back to where he was before his accident. And I was sure that just like him, I could adapt. So after I'd given up running, I got into a swimming pool. And I didn't enjoy it at first, but I stuck to it. I got stronger and I got faster. I got to the point where I was

overtaking most of the men in the fast language, which was amazing. But I still wished that I could do something as incredible as runner marathon. It was this ache that I just couldn't let go of. And then just this year, in January, I found out that there was a charity called Mae'n gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'r gwaith yw'n gwaith yw'n gwaith. Mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwaith, mae'n gwadyn ni'n ei'r ffeld yn mynd i'r ffeld yn mynd i'r ymdyn ni'n ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn feld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn feld yn ffeld yn ffeld yn feld yn in the roughest sea that I have ever swam in. The waves just threw me around. I kept swallowing salt of the support boat next to me. It looked like it was either about to crash down on me or I couldn't even see it. And I couldn't swim fast. All I could do basically was not drown.

And I wish that at that moment, I could say that at that moment, I thought of my dad and everything he'd been through and I knew I could do this. But to tell the truth, all I was thinking was, oh my God, this is dangerous. Why don't they call this off? So after that hour, which they let me finish, I got onto the boat feeling like a bit of a failure.

But the team went on, we were allowed to go on, and a few hours later, it was my turn again the third time and France was close And just before I went in the boat pilot came out and he said to me that if I swam hard I could beat the tide and land the team in France But if I didn't then the tide would turn and it would take us another two or three hours to get there When I hit that water, I was exhausted, but I knew that this was the final sprint. So while I was swimming, dawn broke,

and it lit up the coast for me. But that coast never seemed to get any closer. No matter how hard I swam, and I tried so hard, and I didn't believe that I would make it. I actually felt sure that the tide was already taking me away. And then I saw the sea bed under me and I kept swimming until I could put my feet down and I walked onto that beach in France. And after I got onto the support boat afterwards, I took a selfie with a glass of champagne

and I sent it to the family WhatsApp group. And my dad didn't reply to say that he was proud of me because he doesn't like writing or saying sloppy things like that, but he didn't need to. Because I know more than anything that I am my father's daughter. Thank you. Thank you.

APPLAUSE That was Shontal Lyons. Shontal is a writer and environmentalist living in Bristol, England. She still swims in cold water when she can convince herself to. She says that swimming has continued to be a powerful medicine against her arthritis. To see photos and videos of her epic swim, go to themoth.org. While there, you can call our pitch line and leave a two-minute version of a story you'd like to tell. Have you ever pushed yourself mentally or physically? We'd especially love to hear from the women out there.

The number to call is 877-799-Moth, or you can pitch us your story at themoth.org. In college, I spent a semester studying abroad at Oxford University. And I studied abroad there, in part, because I never would have gotten into it, if I applied normally. But I got into the study abroad program and went overseas and was so excited to study at Oxford. And it only took me a couple of days to realize how out of my element I was. Everyone was studying systematic theology and historical philosophy. And I was there to study creative writing.

And I didn't really know what I was doing. And I started to feel really intimidated all the time. And one day I was walking in class and saw a flyer for the Oxford men. Hockey team, ice hockey team. And I grew up playing ice hockey, our high school team won a couple of state championships and I thought, gosh, I want to go try out for this team. The only problem was I had only played on girls' teams and this was a men's league. I didn't know if I could cut it. But I tried out and I made it because the Oxford men's hockey team was full of people who were

much smarter than they were athletic and I fit right in. And so we started playing games and we lost. We lost Germany, we lost France, we lost the leads, and we lost the Manchester and we lost everybody. But the very last game of the season, the very last play of the game, I got a break away and I scored the winning goal. And we all went back to the locker room to change and to celebrate and someone walked in with a great huge case of beer and said it down at my feet. And so what's this for?

And he said, you know, we have a tradition. And you didn't know about it because you're new and we've never won a game with you. But we won. And someone is declared man of the match of the winning team. The person who contributes most to the victory. And you, Courtney, you are the man of the match. So everyone else wrote publishable papers about brilliant things. But no one else, that semester, was man of the match. So everyone else wrote publishable papers about brilliant things, but no one else that semester was man of the match.

The Oxford men's, like a hockey team. Remember, you can tell us your own story at the Moth Daudor. For our final storyteller, we have poet Amanda Gorman. Long before she won the heart to the world with her poem at the January inauguration, she was at just 19, a Moth Grand Slam champion. We were thrilled to see her stun the world with her gorgeous poem, The Hill We Climb. A nation that isn't broken but simply unfinished. We, the successors of a country and a time were a skinny black girl descended from slaves

and raised by a single mother, can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one. The amazing single mother, she mentioned, is the driving force of her grand slam winning story from Boston, her partner with PRX and WBUR. Here's Amanda Gorman, live at the mall. I'm going to be a mighty king, like no king before. Everybody look left, look right, everywhere you look,

I'm standing in the spotlight. These were the words that I repeated to myself as I walked into the LA audition room. 100 other girls were trying out to be nulla on Broadway, New York. The air smelled of Hollywood and desperation. It was crammed with these monster mothers and the savage children. You have no idea. These kids, or like little demons, they'll step the foot out to trip you.

They'll be doing pureettes around just to show off. Randomly just do a back flip because they can. Whatever. And walking in, I was just really glad that I would never be like that. And that most of all, my mom would never be like one of those crazy, loco stage moms. I walked in, and I remember her saying,

man, don't worry about it. Just have fun and try your best. And I remember, you know, being in the corner, I have my name on my back, doing my dance moves, stretching, getting it on, and a mother walks a bike and she goes, that's cute, but it's not Amal Chennai. Yes, my mom snapped. She went, hell no, I know that lady didn't say that to my daughter. The lion of the king grew out.

All of a sudden it was just no lions drawn. Yellen nasty comments at the other girls like, mm-hmm. I'm sure you other white girls didn't get the memo, but Lion King takes place in Africa. You can't learn melon and honey, okay? Can't do makeup for that. I'm in the corner trying to pretend that my mom isn't my mom, and my twin sisters there,

she's there, not really for emotional support, but just to let me know how much I can fail. So she comes at me, she's like, yo Amanda, I know you're nervous to like audition because like you have a speech impediment in everything and like in auditory processing disorder and you look like the black girl version of vessel brand. But just have fun and be yourself.

My mom said, move out the way. You can have fun when I have my one-way ticket to New York City. Mom, what about being myself? Being yourself won't get mommy. I mean, Amanda, To the Lion King. Amanda, come over here. There's something you need to learn. You need to put yourself out there.

So when you see the casting director, tell him you've already menstruated. You're post-pubescent. You won't grow. You'll look nine for forever. And if that doesn't look out, you can always know, acts like a monkey walking your hands or something crap like that. And they make castles as Rafiki. I am trying to kind of hear what my mom says, but also stay sane. And I remember closing my eyes and just feeling I was so close to my dream.

In my head, I saw myself loud and proud on a stage in front of a crowd, proving that a girl who's black and skinny and geeky and had a speech and pediment could make it to Broadway. Finally, after a little bit, they call my number. I walk into the audition room and in my head I'm reciting the lyrics. I'm gonna be a mighty king, like no king before, I'm working on my war, trying to be heard, but these words don't sound right. Could I ever be in the spotlight? And I'm there in front of the casting director,

and I remember my mom told me, so I said, yo. Good news. I've already had my period. So this has, hi, as I'm going to get, I can stay null for a really long time. If you know what I mean, what I cannot imitate his face, I'm not going to try it. And then I tell him, you know, I know I just sing that little mighty King song by have other stuff in me. No, it's a man. Is that my hee-sa-ma?

And then I heard my mom's voice in my head telling me to pull out all the stops that it was came to us. And this was worst at the moment. voice in my head telling me to pull out all the stops that it was came to us and this was worst at the moment. I should, you know, walk on my hands with something and like act like a monkey. So I do not lie, I stepped back. And walked on my hands out of the audition. And I was waiting there with the other girls, everyone's so tense, the monster moms are pushing people out the way so they can hear.

And they start listing the names of people who get callbacks and I'm so excited. And they haven't called my name yet and the casting director comes out and says thank you everyone for coming, that is all. And I remember feeling so broken by what was supposed to be my big break and my mom came over to me and said you know know, it's okay. You tried your best. You're always going to be a nala in my heart. And part of me was so glad to know that I would never be like one of those girls who made it to Broadway because I would still make it here. I'd still make it to now. Being loud and proud in front of a crowd on a stage. Well, I know I am a mighty king, mightier

than before. I might be working on my war, but look left, look right right here I am tonight in the spotlight. A man to Corman is the youngest inaugural poet in US history, as well as an award-winning writer and graduate of Harvard University. She's written for The New York Times and has three books coming out with Penguin Random House. Seeing Amanda in her full radiate glory on stage at the inauguration, gave me hope for our country's future. One that I hope will be marked by a rise in female leadership

and strength. I'm in my early 50s, but I know so many brilliant women in their late teens and 20s and I love thinking about the world they're going to create and lead one day. So as we close out this hour of stories, buying about fierce women, let's hear from Amanda one more time. The new dawn balloons as we free it for was always light, if only we're brave enough to see it, if only we're brave enough to be in. [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO MUSIC PLAYING [♪ OUTRO That's it for this episode of the Moth Radio Hour. We hope you'll join us next time.

This episode of the Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Catherine Burns, who also hosted and directed the stories in the hour. Co-producer, Fiky Merrick, Associate Producer Emily Couch, Additional Grand Slam Coaching by Maggie Sino. The rest of The Maw's leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Sarah Austin, Genes, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Cluche, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Inga Gladowski, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Aldi Kaza. Mals stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers. Our pitch in this hour came from Courtney Ellis of Mission V.A. Hill,

California. Our theme music is by the Drift, other music in this hour from David Groosen, Jimmy McGriff, Hot Chocolate, Rabbit Rabbit Radio, Andrew Bird, Joss Lynx, and Fabio Doe Nassimento. You'll find links to all the music we use on our website. We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts. The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, and presented by PRX. For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us your own story and everything else go to our website, themoth.org. own story and everything else.

Go to our website, themoth.org.