It is, quite simply, a magical place. A universal womb that births each of our days. I’m talking about the shower. From the moment the nylon curtain is raised and you step onto the porcelain stage, your hot and cold background singers engage. You lift that soapy loofah microphone to your face and let your mighty bellow set this world ablaze with, “AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!” In that moment, you are a rockstar. A titan. An undisputed genius. Every single one of us shares this singular, universal truth: I sound freaking amazing in here.
But then a funny thing happens. The show ends. You step out of the shower, towel off the steam and the swagger, and you allow yourself to recoil back into your “inside voice.” The powerhouse baritone that was just shaking the tiles is now a timid tenor in the boardroom. The soaring soprano that was bouncing off the ceiling is now a hesitant hum on a Zoom call. We treat our authentic, powerful voice like a secret identity, one that can only be revealed in a 4×4 foot sanctuary of ceramic and steam. We let the world hear the Clark Kent version, while the Superman of our expression is left locked away, waiting for the next wash cycle. We walk into our professional lives having already decided that the person who was singing their heart out five minutes ago has no place here.
That recoil isn’t an accident; it’s a decision. It’s the moment we let our limiting beliefs take the mic. They are the hecklers in the front row of our minds, the critics we carry in our pockets. They’re the ones whispering, “Oh no, you’re not a storyteller, you’re a numbers person.” Or, “Your content is too dry and technical to be inspirational, that’s not your lane.” Or the big one: “You could never command the big stage, that’s not for you.” We let these false narratives get lodged in our throats, clogging the channel between what’s in our heart and what comes out of our mouth. We think our job is to deliver information, so we suppress the very thing that makes information transformational: our authentic, unedited, shower-singing conviction.
As a Grammy Nominated Spoken Word Artist Sekou Andrews, I’ve learned that the most critical part of a performance happens before I ever step on stage. It’s the act of clearing out that junk. This is the core of my work as a Motivational Poet and why some might call me one of the most inspiring communicators in the world. It’s not about memorizing lines; it’s about excavating belief. Powerful Spoken Word Poetry isn’t born from a script; it’s born from a soul that has evicted its squatting doubts. The best leaders and the top communicators understand this. They don’t just prepare their content; they prepare their spirit. They do the work to clear their own throats so they can give their message a clear channel to land with others. This isn’t just for a Spoken Word Artist; it’s for anyone who wants their message to do more than just inform, but to inspire.
So, how do you find your shower stage in a world full of critics? Before your next presentation, your next pitch, your next crucial conversation, take a moment. Find a quiet space—a hallway, your car, a bathroom stall—and do your own “sound check.” Remind yourself of what you believe. Reconnect with the why behind your what. You don’t have to belt out a power ballad (unless you want to!), but you do have to consciously unmute the voice that believes. This is the work I guide people through as a Vanguard Artist. It’s about understanding that you can’t deliver a leading-edge message if you’re trapped in a follower’s mindset. You, as the messenger, are the first audience member you have to win over. As the Grammy Nominated Poet Sekou, I can tell you that an audience can feel the difference between a voice that is reciting and a voice that is testifying.
Ultimately, engagement isn’t one big thing you do; it’s a thousand tiny moments of leaning in, and it all starts with you leaning into yourself. Your most powerful, persuasive, and authentic self is not an act you put on; it’s a truth you let out. It’s the person who sings in the shower without fear of judgment. Your job is to build a bridge from that porcelain stage to every other stage you touch. Don’t just bring your data, your slides, and your talking points to the meeting. Bring the unshakeable conviction of your shower solo. Because your vision is only as powerful as your voice, and that voice is just waiting for you to turn up the volume.
