It's 6 PM at Metro and teens pack the seats and balcony. They dance to a DJ’s grooves, clap their hands, and greet friends with ecstatic embraces. They are not there to attend a concert of a famed music star, but to hear the voices of their peers.

At the finals of the 5th annual Louder Than a Bomb slam poetry festival, it is the youth who desire to be heard—and to feel the power of the spoken word. The evening is the culmination of 18 rounds of competition that have taken place over the past week at the Hot House and Columbia College, featuring 350 competitors. Tonight, young people will step up to the mic to compete for a chance to go to a national spoken word event in San Francisco.

It's minutes before the event begins and Michelle Mbekeani (15), a first time competitor, is starting to feel a bit nervous but excited. She became a fan of spoken word after a friend brought her to an open mic night. "I felt very inspired…and I wanted to inspire other people." In her poetry, she likes to focus on her personal experiences in a humorous, yet sometimes serious way. She often discusses her feelings of isolation as an African-American young woman. During her performance, she speaks with pride about her "3D" body shape.

Expressions of personal trials are the primary topics of the night. As solo poets (or "indys") take the stage, each lets loose a cathartic and passionate poem that allows the audience to see a little part of his or her soul. Recalling how the possibility of peer judgment and stage-fright plagued many of my friends as teens, their performances display an amazing amount of self-confidence. Poets speak of sexual assault, sex addiction, and sexuality; politics, parents and patriarchy; religion, rights, and racism; drugs, disease, and death. Though the topics were heavy, the engaging performance compelled the listeners. With staccato speeches, defiant stances, and emphatic gestures, the young poets demanded their audience’s attention, and we listened with open ears.

Five judges held up signs bearing scores at the end of each poem. Whenever the judges gave scores below 9.0, the crowd would yell out "Listen to the poem!" in protest. The winning team was P.F. North, with their haunting poem about the spread of cancer and disease. Michelle and her group placed second. During the night, the media snapped pictures, teens cheered each other on, and adults sat in stunned awe.

 Kevin Coval co-founded this event through the Young Chicago Authors organization. As a part of the Writing Teachers Collective, a group of writers and writing teachers, he and his colleagues believed that they could use the rising popularity of the poetry slam and spoken word to bring the youth of Chicago together. Coval says that after September 11th and the tightening of anti-loitering laws, teens needed an outlet to vent their fears and frustrations. Workshops began, and the first Louder Than a Bomb kicked off with 12 teams in the basement of the Chopin Theater. This year, the festival sold out  Metro and has become the largest teen spoken word festival in the country. The efforts of Coval and his cohorts have had a long-term effect in Chicago schools. "Some schools don't even have a basketball team, but they have a spoken word club," he says. He hopes that the spoken word movement will influence the direction of the school system. Instead of relying only on traditional means of learning, Coval hopes teachers will say, "Let's look at our own lives. What can we learn from them?"

The Louder Than a Bomb festival not only allows for teens to express a multitude of feelings, thoughts and opinions in a creative manner, it also shatters the stereotypes of youth apathy and lack of awareness. These teens are brave, self-assured and strong in their convictions. In short, the youth of Louder Than a Bomb blew this reporter away.

For more information about Young Chicago Authors, go to youngchicagoauthors.org.