I’ve been struggling over how to write this for months now.
Why is the Summit important to me?
Sounds like a simple question, right?
…for myself, it isn’t.
I attended my first Summit in Chicago in 2003, my second in New York in 2007, and helped organize the last one here in the Bay Area in 2009. For the past eight years, thinking about the Summit has always felt like a tidal wave swelling inside of me.
Why?
Because for so many reasons, the Summit has reminded me of how strong I not only can be, but indeed am.
My 21st birthday on a stage in a Chicago theatre in front of 200 people…I’ve replayed that night in my mind over and over and over again, trying to keep hold of every single detail so that when I feel like nothing, I can remember that I am worth a whole lot more.
I will never forget how nervous I was, dry heaving as the poet before me wrapped up their performance. I will never forget the rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” sung to me by everyone in the audience when Kelly called me on stage. I will never forget thinking to myself”These people have no idea” as I stood there and smiled. I will never forget hearing those in the front rows cry along with me as my hands shook and voice trembled, eyes glued to my paper. I will never forget the old friends I came with and the new friends I made crawling on stage after to hold me and gather around me backstage to put me back together when I had utterly and honestly fell apart. I will never forget concentric circles on stage after, everyone healing with me as we sang together: “Ikalat muna, pass it around.”
For myself, that is what the Summit is about: passing “it” around. “It” being this identity of community and responsibility for one another – more so than creating, practicing, and perfecting our craft of poetry and spoken word (really, they’re just vehicles, another way for us to be human) – the Summit is truly about building and growing with and for each other, from the ground up – heads high, eyes skyward, raw, and revealing – because in the words of June Jordan: We are the ones we have been waiting for.
The fact that no one gets paid to organize the Summit, the fact that we are not a 501(c)3, the fact that every two years a group of people dedicate two years of their lives to ensure the Summit happens again for those anxious to return, but more importantly for those who desire to be introduced… This selflessness, solidarity, connection, and interconnection; this tidal wave of emotion that I am sure I am not the only one who feels – this is why the Summit is important to me.
The Summit is recognition – love and history made manifest. The Summit is resistance against the blunt truth that in this world – not only for human necessity, but politically, socially, culturally, and economically in pursuit of real deal revolution-making – we are nothing if we are without each other. For myself, most importantly, the Summit is a reminder and dedication to the fact that though individually we are indeed strong, in each others arms we are even stronger.
Kristen Sajonas, 2009 Summit organizer, sometimes-poet, all-the-time community organizer, wannabe kultural worker.

