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As teenagers, we may think of poetry as synonyms of old and useless, and reading it may seem monotonous. When we read a poem, we must have problems with pronunciation and comprehension of it. Although when we hear it, we can experience a new way to approach the poem.
I came from Cuba, where the Internet is not an option to make poems come alive, and the technology is deplorable because of the blockage held against the island. Cuba uses analogical radio and television as the only sources of entertainment, information, music, and podcast. That is why I want to address the radio podcast. Radio podcasting served as a platform to reach poetry.
Since I was a child, my grandmother and my great-grandmother used to send me to bed while a radio played a station that later turned into my preferred one. I have such a strong memory of that radio station was air casting from 8:30pm to 10pm, Monday through Sunday. The name of the podcast was Nocturne. I can recall when I listened to the voice of the narrator for the first time. It relaxed me, and I fell asleep because his voice was peaceful and pleasant. I was 10 years old when I listened to this podcast for the first time. Nocturne is a musical program supported by poetry. Every day of the week has its variety. For example, on Mondays is your night in love where you can listen to a mix of romantic songs and poems. On Tuesdays, they offered varieties of successes with the top hits. On Wednesdays, you can delight yourself with the successes of last night, songs of the 60s and 70s. Thursday is the night to record your favorite hits. Friday has a special program to have a romantic night with poems and songs that make you dream or recall. On Saturday, Nocturne has an exclusive podcast with the most popular genres of music for the youth. Sunday’s program comes with the most requested songs and poems during the week.
I have a strong memory of that podcast because my grandmother and my great-grandmother spread their love of poetry to me. I was born in Cuba in 2000 and raised by my grandmother because my mother was working and studying to finish her bachelor’s degree. My grandmother and I had a strong relationship spending most of the time together. She taught me her passion for poetry. The platform she used was Nocturne. She used to send me to bed every day with a kiss on my forehead after she synced the radio station for our daily doses of poetry and music.
The first time I listened to Nocturne it started with the saxophone part of the song ‘La Chica De La Valija Azul’ or the girl with the blue suitcase by Fausto Papetti. After a few songs, my favorite poem came up for the first time. “Being in love, my friends, is suffering time with ease. It is waking up one morning knowing the secrets of the flowers and the fruits”, – the first two stanzas of the poem with a sublime tone, having me hooked to it. It was relaxing and pleasant having poetry read by someone else because it made me encounter poetry in an intimate setting. The narrator’s voice and the podcast itself allowed me to go beyond the poem and made the poetry world more approachable. This podcast included a discussion about the context of the work and the author that goes beyond just reading a poem out loud. Hearing a poem interpreted by someone else broke down some boundaries between me reading the same poem on a piece of paper. With only 10 years, I could fall in love by just listening to that poem. I murmured the poem after I heard it. “Being in love, my friends, is finding the perfect name for life. It is discovering the words needed to face death”, – I explained to the trees in my backyard, quoting the poem I just listened. The butterflies also had to listen to me telling them that conquered was my shadow of solitude.
One day, my grandmother found me crying when I discovered through the same podcast the narrator committed suicide, which meant not being able to daydream again in my backyard talking to the trees and butterflies. I thought I would never fall in love again with poetry without his voice interpretation. After two weeks, I regret myself for stopping to listen to this radio podcast when my grandmother confessed to me the poem ‘Being in Love, My Friends’ was also her favorite one, and that she enjoyed the way the narrator interpreted it too. She said that he drew emotions and images beautifying the poems with his voice. We felt sorry for his death, but we could not resist another day without our habitual mix of poetry and music. That was part of my media diet already!
“Being in love, my friends, is contemplating the reason for the wounds”, – I said to my grandmother using verses from our common favorite poem while turning on the radio.
I am almost nineteen years old now, and I moved to the United States for two years and nine months ago. The Cuban Radio Station that I grew up with has been hard to find, and I received the devastating news that the program is not air casting anymore. Thanks to the YouTube platform I can listen to those old podcasts which I used to daydream with, and it is still bringing back those childhood memories that I am not willing to let go. My grandmother and I are not close anymore because we live in different countries and communication is a barrier for what used to be a strong relationship. Overall, Nocturne podcasts are still the light that makes us wonder and be nostalgic, but passionate about poetry.
Looking back to those childhood memories I can say I am grateful to my grandmother for spreading her love for poetry using radio podcasts, for making those years unforgettable, and for sharing such as unique passions with me. I am proud of being a teenager who loves poetry and who do not think of poetry as synonyms of old and useless. I am glad radio podcasts served as a platform for me to reach poetry and it helped me to overcome most of the obstacles that kept me distantly from the poetry world. My children and my grandsons have to know about my passion for poetry and Nocturne, the musical program enhanced by poetry. YouTube will be the platform I will use to play my favorite radio station, so they can acknowledge how my childhood was.
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