Conversations with Assetou Xango

Today we’d like to introduce you to Assetou Xango.

Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
Poetry gave me flesh. Before I knew it, I spent my days haunting my own body.

The first time I read a Spoken Word piece in front of a crowd, it was a poem I had written about someone in the audience. A doughy-eyed, thick-headed boy I had all but fallen in love with. For 3 minutes, I could look him in the eyes and say, in perfect pentameter, all the things I could never find the words for when we were alone. This is the most power I had ever had. This was the only place where I made the rules, where my truth resounded uninterrupted.

He, of course, had no idea the poem was even about him (you remember I called him thick-headed, no?), but it did not matter. His hearing was not the magic of the thing. The power of that moment lay nowhere but in my voice, in my body. I walked home barefoot, screaming at the top of my lungs, “THIS IS MY PASSION, I HAVE FINALLY FOUND IT!”

I was not wrong. To this day, I find myself again and again through my own words. Connecting with 3,000 people at once as if we were sitting 1 on 1 at the kitchen counter. Exchanging stories, showing scars, and feeling seen for the very first time.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
Of course, it would not be a love story if not for the moments of rupture. Shortly after high school, I joined the poetry community in Denver. The constellation of venues surrounding this thriving scene quickly became my home and, not long after, my identity. No matter how far I traveled, they were my anchor. I needn’t be understood or held by anyone else. My heartbeat, my community, would be all that I need.

We have lived long enough to know that nothing last forever.

Not long before the pandemic, I had to leave this community that had been all I’d known since I was 17. I won’t get into the gory details, but suffice it to say: human beings are messy, and wounds cannot be healed in the same room as the weapon.

I lost everything that gave me purpose. I had to become my own anchor. I had to relearn what that 17-year-old girl discovered 8 years prior; all I need is inside me.

I am still in the process of reclaiming this truth. I am learning to define myself as myself, not in opposition or affinity to some external thing. I am grateful to be witnessed by others who are doing the same.

What do you like best about our city? What do you like least?
Love poetry, deep conversation, and sun showers. Dislike oppression, being misgendered, and cooking.

Contact Info:

• Website: assetouxango.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/assetouxango/
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/assetou-xango-b40146192/

Image Credits
TedXMileHigh (2016) and Karson Hallaway (2020)