‘Being perfect is an offence to the arts’

Emma Cooper-Williams has a way with words; I remember her from high school as a singer-songwriter. When I ask her what her relationship is with words, she says it’s not just the words that put the power into effect. “All the power sits with the person who’s communicating it,” she says. 

“Bringing your whole self counts for so much more than thinking you have to bring something specific.” 

Cooper-Williams is a self-described busy person who enjoys wearing advocacy and listening hats. She’s an observer, a disabled person and a creative person who has found spoken word as a way to process “the shit we have to live with in this world”. For her, disability activism has no grounding without thoughtful processing. 

Though she sometimes finds it easier to describe experiences outside of her own, spoken word has helped her consider and represent her own lived experience. It’s been an exercise of knowing how she’s feeling and being honest about it. Spoken word was something Cooper-Williams dabbled in as a university student while seeking community. After joining some workshops, she knew this was how she wanted to figure out who she was in the adult world. 

She had previously tried it a couple times at school feeling that maybe she wasn’t good at it or there was something lacking. But she reflects now, “I’ve learned that it’s not about finding just the right words, or to have perfect words. The reality is, it’s so imperfect, and I think being perfect is probably an offence to the arts.” 

Cooper-Williams says “challenging human elements with human elements” is really useful for activism and she wants those who give spoken word a go to feel empowered, including those from d/Deaf and Hard of Hearing communities. “Learning about how to do that, we need to hear people’s experiences,” she says. “I want people to feel like we’re there learning from them as experts in their own lives and in their own craft.” 

Emma Cooper-Williams tends to write about disability, energy or specific life events. Here’s a piece by her, called Energy Comes in Many Forms. 

Energy Comes in Many Forms

Spoons: some of us with disabilities and chronic illness measure our energy in

spoons

Cleaning the bench takes a spoon

Wash my face, dress myself, prepare some kai - three spoons

My spoons are my energy, and my measuring cup

My spoons weren’t made for you

You can’t tell me what I have the energy to do today

Energy comes in many forms

Have you ever experienced a period of grieving spoons you once had?

Things were still tough back then

But it’s true, and hard to pretend that we are not fighting for peaceful energy

Energy comes in many forms

Carrying on takes courage today

I don’t like telling myself I have to,

But unfortunately I believe that I have to carry on with so few spoons

So few that I could easily lose

Energy comes in many forms

If energy comes in many forms, then what path can I take so I can learn how to

respect mine?

I want to be enthusiastic, finding energy in belonging and connecting

If energy comes in many forms, will a breath see me through?

Will a breath be enough to remind myself to respect my spoons?

This winter, Emma Cooper-Williams and Talia Stanley are co-facilitating a series of spoken word workshops for tāngata whaikaha with The D*List. Registrations are now closed but keep an eye on our Instagram or subscribe to our newsletter, The D*List Delivered, to stay in the loop with events and workshops.

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