Today we’d like to introduce you to Claire Collins.
Claire, please share your story with us. How did you get to where you are today?
I’m here by grace & sheer determination! I have always been fascinated with language, the ability to still a room of strangers with just your voice is some kind of superpower. Perhaps because my father was a pastor and all of my formative years were spent soaking up the charisma of prosperity preachers and tent revival magic, I found myself in awe of the sacred nature of performance; to make a group of strangers laugh at the same time, cry at the same time, that is magic. I have long understood the power of the spoken word. I consider myself lucky to have discovered my passion at a young age. I was nine years old when I made my debut performance at Spotlight Theater in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where I would go on to perform in over twenty plays, including the longest-running play in the USA, The Drunkard. I lived and loved there from age 9 to 15, my first kiss was a stage kiss! I love getting a new script, repetition, nights with a highlighter pen, being the first one off book. The theater is my first love, where I learned to play for the sake of exploration, without fear of failure.
I found acting to be an out of body experience, one where I could transform space & time & myself. I love developing a character, staying present with the process. The first time I had an out of body/ in character experience I was thirteen years old and I was relishing in making little kids cry as the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. I was getting so deep into that character that I went backstage after a scene and didn’t recognize myself in green paint & prosthetics. I realized it wasn’t even about being in character, it was about being present. It was about showing up for a world that you created & living in that world. It was a pivotal moment, experiencing performance that transcended the self. I had no idea that was the first time over a lifetime that I would experience that, the first time that I would get lost in who I was and realize I was creating a world. I approach all forms of creating as sacred.
Art has been my salvation. When I was bullied in school, I turned to my notebook. I didn’t fit in but I knew who I was, I was an actress, a poet. But that didn’t matter, the bullying got worse. On the first day of eighth grade, a girl punched me in the face and I spent the whole day in the principal’s office while he begged her to apologize to me. Things got out of hand and unfortunately poetry couldn’t save me. At the tender age of fourteen, I dropped out of school & went to stay with my aunt in Washington state. That is where I found my voice, full of passion, strong & unwavering in spite of it all. That is where I found my safe place on stage. That is where I discovered spoken word poetry and fell in love.
An excerpt from my forthcoming book, Skin:
“Here you are, doing things that make you feel dizzy & lightheaded & you are seeing things you have never seen before; evergreens & the Pacific. Your uncle drives you to your first open mic, at Stuart’s in Bellingham, WA & you are wearing black and panicking, you are dimpling crescent moons into your forearm, you are way out of your comfort zone. But here you go. This is the first time you say your own words, not Dorothy’s or The Wicked Witch, but your very own words and people like it. They love it! It makes your stomach churn when a woman echoes the words “speak it” during one of your poems and for the first time in 43 days you feel at home. Like you’re at church and she just shouted Hallelujah & the pastor just summoned the choir. Only this was a poem. This was church, this was home. “
Poetry has carried me far, allowed me to change myself and the world in innovative ways. Poetry got me through the bullying, the subsequent eating disorders, the addiction. I wrote myself out of every plot that attempted to destroy me. I had plenty of reasons to give up, to settle, to believe the bullies & that voice that insisted I would never be thin enough, perfect enough. It’s easy to numb your pain, to dull your senses, to follow, to consume.To believe what everyone says. But I’m a creator, not a consumer. I always came back, to the sacred act of creating, to the poem, the monologue. I continued to speak truth, I continued to speak life, to create worlds.
In 2013, I was living in Tulsa, Oklahoma and lucky enough to be teaching poetry to high school students through an amazing program called Louder Than a Bomb. I even got to return to the school where I was bullied & tell my story & teach poetry! I found myself being the person I needed when I was younger. I had one of those full circle moments (you are lucky if you have a few in your lifetime). I knew I couldn’t stop there. I want to do big things, bigger than me, bigger than us.
I believe it is our duty to use our gifts to contribute to the world. So, when I heard a staggering statistic; that the state of Oklahoma incarcerates more women than anywhere in the world, I decided that I would do what I could with my gifts. I started going to David L. Moss Criminal Justice Center and teaching poetry, guerilla style. It’s kinda crazy how it started. I just did it. I think we find ourselves feeling helpless against injustice in this world, but I’ve found that when we act outright, not against injustice but towards justice, towards healing, towards being the hands and the feet of love- no one can stop you. I had momentum too! I started working with Ellen Stackable, a high school English teacher who was interested in tackling this issue. We developed a curriculum and got the course approved.
Poetry had helped me get free from so many things & I wanted to share that gift, that freedom, that door within to the sacred. This passion opened many doors for me and lit my path. The flame grew, we started to get other volunteers- even the correctional officers commented on the positive effect the program was having! There is nothing more magical & powerful than empowering someone to use their voice, to speak life in a desolate place like prison. In 2014, we became a non-profit organization that I named Poetic Justice. Since it began, over 1,750 incarcerated women have been a part of the Poetic Justice classes.
Being able to serve others in this way, to empower them, shifted my perspective on life. I felt a freedom in putting aside my own concerns & doing something bigger than myself. I felt fulfilled and purposeful but had all but given up on my dreams of acting. Acting seemed like a vain pursuit in light of my altruistic aims. I just hadn’t considered it much. But, it’s funny how destiny works, no matter how far you stray, I believe your dreams will find you. In 2015, I was working with Poetic Justice as a teaching artist. A friend had sent me a casting call for a feature-length film in OKC, I thought, “Why not?” and submitted. I went to the audition a week later. It was two hours away and I was honestly just happy to have an audition, an opportunity to act. I had to improvise a fight with a partner in the audition and I don’t remember what I said but when I walked out of the audition the whole waiting room had heard my ‘argument’ and was applauding! I didn’t realize it then but my whole life was about to change.
I was cast as the lead in a feature film by acclaimed Australian director Amiel Courtin-Wilson. We began filming in OKC later that month and I once again slipped into the vulnerable magic that is acting. I felt as if I had been reunited with my first love. I quickly became immersed in co creating this world. Filming was intense as aspects of myself, my story became merged with the character. I was able to expand & flow & trust the process and I ended up improvising most of my lines. Improvisation is very revealing in itself, and then playing a barely fictionalized version of yourself…that’s just crazy. It was an exaggeration of the most difficult aspects of trauma I had dealt with in my life leading up to that point. The abuse, anorexia, addiction. I had the insightful experience of not merely exorcising my demons, but dissecting them, adding them to a character and acting them out in an extremely cathartic experience. And here I was in the middle of Oklahoma getting to tell that story, how each twist & turn still lead me home. Nothing evolves us quite like love and art. Each film, each poem, each project is a new depth of understanding & wisdom. I’m looking forward to the film’s premiere this fall.
Has it been a smooth road?
Nope. Just as my childhood dreams were coming to fruition and life in Oklahoma seemed to be alright, I found myself fighting for my life. In 2016, I was the victim of gun violence. A robbery gone wrong nearly cost me my life, but my fighting instinct saved me. Two of my attackers were caught and sentenced to life in prison. I could not close my eyes for months without seeing their faces. PTSD warps time and space, causes me to panic when I’m safe. But I survived, I survived, I survived. I’m a whole, holy miracle. I have survived something that I shouldn’t have and I’M STILL HERE. I get to watch the sunset & read poetry & eat ice cream & LIVE but I still contend with a brain haunted by violence. Survival is surreal.
I got a second chance at life, at everything. I decided that it was imperative that I continue on the path and pursue my dreams. And while not everything happens for a reason, I’m clearly still here for a reason! I came so close to losing it all, I count each day as precious and I set an intention to live life fearlessly and on purpose. It was tough to leave Poetic Justice, the organization that I had poured my soul into, but when I left I was leaving it in the hands of a dozen other women who shared my passion. I realized that I had indeed created something much larger than myself. I decided to leave my hometown and I moved to Atlanta in 2017. Sometimes we just need a safe place for our dreams to come true.
I work not to be a victim but to take what has happened to me and convert it into art. We can all be creators, we just have to consume less. I create art that reminds us of our humanity, we all experience heartbreak, grief and joy, this life is a mutual experience, a gift.
As difficult as it is to live with PTSD, I know that there isn’t a version of me that gives up, or gives in, ever. I fought to be here and I’ll savor every sweet, magic, tragic moment I inhabit.
So, as you know, we’re impressed with Poetic Justice – tell our readers more, for example, what you’re most proud of and what sets you apart from others?
Poetic Justice offers restorative writing workshops to incarcerated women emphasizing voice, hope, and power to change. Our students use transformational communication skills to lead restored, meaningful lives.
We use restorative writing workshops to help women who are experiencing incarceration find a voice, hope, and power to change. Our program has been featured on CNN Heroes, Huffington Post, NPR & more.
I am seeking to evolve my career as an actor as well as begin Poetic Justice classes in Atlanta. I am primarily a performance artist in the discipline of theater and film and am looking for a progressive environment and collaborators to merge both disciplines.
Let’s touch on your thoughts about our city – what do you like the most and least?
I love how friendly people are, like genuinely nice. I least like the traffic because it makes it harder to be nice!
Contact Info:
- Website: theclairecollins.com
- Email: dopepoet@gmail.com
- Instagram: @theclairecollins
- Other: www.poeticjustice.org
Image Credit:
Alexia Moore
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