Every month, it stands out as a bold curiosity on the Black Cat's schedule: "Mothertongue: Women's Spoken Word $5 Backstage." The inevitability of it showing up each second Wednesday has been an unshakeable truth for the past seven years.
Mothertongue, in adherence to its mission statement, commits itself to nurturing an empowering atmosphere where women "use their voices, art, talents and skills to build a just and inclusive community."
The rules are pretty simple for these hosted open mic nights. Don't trash your ex on stage, but if you must, change the names to protect the innocent. "We invite a drama-free atmosphere," said AU alum and GWU professor Bonnie Morris during her role as emcee and academic advisor for the group's September reading.
Drama, as it turns out, can be a very particular term. While no soap opera-esque huffs play out, the emotional unraveling of female sexuality, humor, politics and, above all, feminism dangle like marionettes among the women who puppeteer their prose with softness and aggression racing side by side. All secrets are pledged to be safe in the swirl of vivid hushes and emotive white noise.
Many active in Mothertongue are openly gay or identify as transgender. But there is no sense of counter-culture exclusion or rank and file standards among any of the circle's faithful.
"This is definitely an inclusive place," said regular poet Terri Knox, known for her verse's soft sensuality. "I come and go, and it's nice, but I think it's also nice to have a different type of audience each time."
The majority of profits from Mothertongue events go straight back to the national and D.C. feminist community through different women's charities and artistic groups. Kate McIntyre, program administrative specialist for The D.C. Coalition Against Women's Violence, correlates her organization's alignment with Mothertongue to her own personal experience.
"I had been to a Mothertongue before, and we thought seeking [the participants] out would definitely work best for us," McIntyre said.
The reputation of Mothertongue, however, extends far past the realm of generosity. A featured speaker from out of town is typically brought in among the local poets to read a selection and then sell her works. "They know of us and they contact us through our poet liaison Michelle Sewell," said AU alum Natalie Illum, an original Mothertongue member as well as current board vice president.
But personal contact also plays a vital role. October's featured poet, Becca Cooper, a self-proclaimed femme dyke who doubles as a fourth generation Pennsylvania steel worker, met Illum in San Francisco. Cooper's treatise on working class family struggles in Wal-Mart America compelled Illum to bring Cooper's talents to her native D.C. stage.
Oct. 19 marked a celebratory atmosphere for Mothertongue. Not only were they bumped up to the Black Cat's main stage to celebrate seven years of existence, but original and founding members also returned.
Co-founder Karen Taggart helped devise Mothertongue around the Seventh Street Pop-Stop (now the Cyber Caf?) after seeing Sisterspit, a traveling road show of feminist music, poetry and performance art. "We had just seen them and we thought we could do it D.C. style," Taggart said. Reflecting on the endurance of her once upstart group, she admits she didn't think it would last long, mentioning a period when many original members fell out of touch. "I think it will be around as long as it's needed, though."
As Illum and Sewell shared emcee roles last month, they brought up Mothertongue's standby poets, those who had stayed with the cause for considerable periods of time. The night's festivities were meant to benefit Off Our Backs, one of the country's longest running feminist publications, and Rock GRRRL, a collective that supports revolutionary art.
As a preface to her own poetry, Illum spoke candidly. "With an operating budget of $600 or $700 a year, we give away four times that much," she said. Continuing on a personal note, she looked down at the stage. "This is my home where I learned to be a poet and a person."
If fortunes for Mothertongue continue as they have for the previous seven years, many more women will no doubt be able to nod their heads with the same empathy.
