Cotton Candy and Revolutionary Rides: The Moth Radio Hour

Once a student develops their story and voice, they can show up more authentically in the classroom, their relationships and beyond.

“Which is why we developed the Moth Teacher Institute.”

A annual conference that brings together educators who want to use the Moth storytelling techniques in their classrooms and communities. The programming features live storytelling, panel discussions and hands-on workshops to help find, shape, and tell your own true personal stories. To learn more and apply, visit the Moth.org/edu. .org/edu. This is a music for your ears. How do you manage to get a copy of a real help? Start a test for one of your own promonat.

On shopping.de/record. for only €1.9.20 or nectarines. The one Kilochale for only €1.9.80. In a decade there are many other animals in their old Nordwiljale, and furthermore, easy to find and enjoy.

All the best! Good for all! I'm your host Sarah Austen-Geness. At the month we come together to connect through personal stories. The month has over 500 public events a year, where everyday people stand on stage should tell their true stories.

In this episode a bold bike ride in Yemen, shaking a tail feather in Harlem,

and our first story by Lutheran pastor from Denver,

Nadiah Bolzweber. Nadiah told this in front of a sold-out crowd of 2,700 at a Moth Mainstage in Oregon, where we partnered with Portland Literary Arts. Here's Nadiah live with the Moth.

I'm not what you would call the biggest fan of church, which can be awkward since technically I'm a Lutheran pastor.

“My dislike of church I came by honestly,”

I was raised in a very strict conservative Christian church, where there was just a whole lot of rules and very little fun and no possibility of actually getting to be my whole self. And so when I felt the call to go to seminary, I thought you know what I want is to start a church from scratch

that could be very few rules, a whole lot of fun, and everyone gets to be themselves. So in 2008 I founded a congregation called House for All Centers and Saints.

And the amazing thing about being able to start a church from scratch

is you don't have to worry about being conventional, so you can just make shit up. So if the very first thing you want people to see when they enter in the church is a velvet painting of Elvis, crying that says Elvis,

welcome to you to House for All Centers and Saints, you can do that. And if you don't really want to do a blessing of the animals, but you want to do a blessing of the bicycles, you can do that.

“And if you want to take over the basement of a bar,”

quarterly for an event called Beer and Him, you can do that. And we did all those things, and that's what started to get the attention of my denomination. And I was so excited to get an email that said, "We want to invite you to give the keynote presentation

at a pastor's conference. We really want you to share your expertise. The thing you need to know is I didn't graduate college until I was 36.

I had never been an expert in anything.

And when I went to seminary, I was so old that they called me a second career student,

because it implied at a first career.

I did not. But the difficult part of starting a church from scratch

“is that you have to start it from scratch.”

And so my denomination gave me a little funding to get going, but all they cared about was how many people came and how much money did you bring in. And it started to feel like every Sunday, I was throwing my own birthday party and waiting to see who liked me

enough to show up. And then I was like, "It's not supposed to be about me. It's supposed to be about God." And then I felt worse. And it was rough.

We would have maybe 50 people on a Sunday, but during the summer, the numbers just start getting really low. And we ended up not getting more than 35 people

on a Sunday during the summer.

And so the day before, I was going to Chicago to keynote that pastor's conference as an expert. I found myself single-handedly trying to get a cotton candy machine in the back of my Honda.

And my back was hurting.

“And the reason is because I just come from Costco,”

and I had lifted all these cases of soda, and enough burgers to feed like 80 people, and an industrial bag of Doritos, and I'd put it all in my Honda. When I realized, "Hey, we've got to try and get people back."

I remembered that there's this really quaint tradition in the Lutheran Church called Rally Day. Rally Day is when you're trying to get all the families back at the start of Sunday school after everyone's been traveling through the summer.

And so you have like a little carnival for the kids.

And we didn't have any kids, and we didn't have Sunday school, but I was like, "Fuck it, we're having Rally Day." (audience laughing) And so I ended up setting everything up.

I made cool flyers. I texted everyone in the congregation. I was so excited to get all these people back to really get a lot of people. So I put the sodas on ice,

“and I put out the napkins and little circle,”

and it was all fancy, and I got all the burgers ready, and I put out a collection basket for donations, 'cause it costs like hundreds of dollars for all this stuff, and it's just easily recuperable with that many people. And so I was doing so much work

and that I didn't actually go into the worship space until about two minutes before the service was supposed to start. And I'm walking up the stairs at this hundred year old church building, and I'm so excited to see everyone.

I see the sun coming through the stained glass, and bouncing off the 26 people who came. (audience laughing) 26. (audience laughing)

20 fucking sex. (audience laughing) And I didn't know what to do, so I quickly pivoted, turn around, went downstairs like I'd forgotten something,

but if I'd forgotten anything, it was definitely my goodwill towards humanity. And I went into the women's room, and I literally knelt on the peeling of an olium, and was like, dear God,

I hate all those people who didn't show up so much, (audience laughing) that I'm having a hard time appreciating the people who did show up. (audience laughing) And as you know, I have to start a worship service in two minutes.

If you could like, you know, remove this resentment, like rip out my stony little heart and replace it with a human fleshy beating one again. I'd really appreciate that. Amen.

(audience laughing) So my desperate prayer helped enough for me to get going, get the service going, and then the prayers that people were beautiful and that helped too, because JP prayed.

He was glad he got a job after six months of unemployment, and Clarice was like, I've been off heroin for a year, and then someone else was praying for their aunt who had breast cancer, just the realness of that helped as well. And so about 20 people stayed,

and there was a group of my parishioners who were like grilling up all these burgers that we had for like 80 people. And they're like, we should just take them down to Triangle Park to like feed some hungry people.

And then this other group of my parishioners were making cotton candy, and handing it to every single car that stopped at the stop sign by the church. (audience laughing)

They were having a blast. I was busy doing what I call the resentful cleanup, where you're trying to mask how disappointed you are, and I was like hastily trying to get everything cleaned up. And one of my parishioners, Stewart,

looked at me, he said, "Pastor Nadia, are you okay?"

is he has an official role at church as the Minister of Fabulousness, and he's like the church drag queen. And the reason is because, (audience laughing)

is because like when we were doing our first stewardship campaign,

which is like a fancy church word for fundraising, and Stewart's like, "Oh, I know." We're gonna sell t-shirts, and on the front, it's gonna say, "This shouldn't freak."

(audience laughing) And then on the back, it's gonna say, "So you better tag bitches." (audience laughing) So if you don't have a church drag queen,

I'm just saying, "Get busy." We're creating one. But anyway, so Stewart goes, "Pastor Nadia, are you okay?" And I did that thing where you tell a half truth.

I was like, "Well, my back's really hurting." And he looks at his partner, Jim, and our friend, Amy, he goes, "Jim, Amy, we're gonna pray for Pastor Nadia right now,

and I thought the hell you are."

(audience laughing)

“But sometimes you have to submit to a blessing.”

(audience laughing) I just remember the Colorado sun and his big drag queeny hands warming my black clergy shirt and them praying over me. And it sounds bonkers now,

but I swear what happened is it felt like those muscle spasms and my back went from being like fists to being like open palms. And it like released. It was beautiful.

And I thanked them. And then his partner, Jim, said, "Pastor Nadia, would it be nice to have some help cleaning up?" And I said, "Yeah, it really would.

Thank you." And a couple seconds later, Jim goes, "Well, what do you want me to do with this?" And he held up a completely empty donation basket. (audience laughing)

Now I hated all the people who didn't come. (audience laughing) And I hated all the people who did come. (audience laughing)

“And also, I had to get out of there pretty quick”

'cause I had a very early flight in the morning because I had to go be an expert at a pastor's conference. (audience laughing) It was probably midnight when the resentment

and anger and self-loving left my body enough to fall asleep. And two hours later, I was jolted awake with what I can only describe as a bitch slap from the Holy Spirit.

(audience laughing) I jolted up in my bed and I go, "Oh my God, I missed it." Like, I had back pain all day. And then after they prayed for me, I didn't for the rest of the day.

And I didn't even notice. And I didn't notice what a blessing it was for people to pray for their pastor. I usually praise for them.

And I didn't notice how amazing it is

that hungry people got warm burgers. And that all these strangers inexplicably got free cotton candy at the stop sign. (audience laughing)

I was so wrapped up in my expectations not being met that I missed everything that did happen.

“So the next day, the next afternoon I'm in Chicago.”

And I'm going through this PowerPoint presentation for the pastors and they're loving it. And I'm like blessing of the bicycles and the Elvis. And I tell them like, "Every year on Reformation Day, we do a selling of indulgences bake sale

and they're laughing." (audience laughing) And then I tell them how, "At House for all sinners and saints, we have what's called an open table,

which means everybody without exception is invited to receive bread and wine at communion. And how we have this young queer girl who's been a year in our community and having this open table

and she traveled to Michigan to visit her parents and I get this phone call from her on a Sunday morning and she's weeping. And I'm like, "Baby, what's going on?" She goes, "I meant my parents' church

and they're doing communion. And I can't take it." And she was just like destroyed by it. And I talked to her for a bit. And I said, "Do you mind if I share our conversation

with some folks at church tonight?" And she said, "That was fine." So I tell some of the people at church about Rachel and without skipping a beat, Stewart goes, "We'll just have to take her communion

to the airport when she gets home, I guess." (audience laughing) And so at 9 o'clock at night on a Tuesday, 10 of us show up to Denver in our national airport with bread and wine and like a chauffeur sign

that said Rachel paid her a child of God. (audience laughing) So I'm telling him this story now they're crying. And I thought, "Well, if I think church should be a place for your whole self,

I should tell them the whole story." And I took a deep breath and I said,

just because I felt like a failure." And I told him the whole thing, the cotton candy machine, the healing, I didn't notice, the bitch lab from the Holy Spirit, the cotton candy, everything.

And the coolest thing was that lunch later, they didn't treat me like an expert. They treated me like a sister and a colleague, and they regaled me with stories of their own failure. And it was so beautiful because we felt like connected.

And what I've always wanted my whole life

is to feel less alone. And it's great to be dazzled by people's virtues and for experts to just stun us with how amazing they are. But that never makes me feel less alone. I only feel less alone when people share their failings

with me, their mistakes, their misconceptions, their jagged edges.

“Because I think those jagged edges of our stories”

create enough texture on us that it allows us to have something other people can hold on to. Thank you. [Applause]

[Applause] That was Nadia Bull's Weber. Nadia is the founding pastor of House for All Saints and sinners. She's the author of several best-selling memoirs

and lives in Denver, where she says, "I continue to write about my personal failings for the benefit of my fellow spiritual misfits." She's pretty sure she hasn't consumed cotton candy since 2009.

To see photos of Nadia and the congregation

with that cotton candy on the first rally day,

go to themoth.org. [Music]

“In a moment, lessons in parenting and writing on two wheels”

with women in Yemen. When the moth radio hour continues. [Music] The moth radio hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

[Music] Very good. [Music] Cool. Exactly.

[Music] This is the moth radio hour. I'm Sarah Austen-Geness. Our next story is from Audrey Pleasant, and she told it at a moth night

that featured outstanding stories for my community engagement program. Here's Audrey. [Applause] Tommy.

Tommy Johnson. That was my humiliation. I mean, at the age of 13, how could you be so humiliated? Let me not get ahead of myself.

“You see, I was going to a church, right across the street”

for me.

That was at 140 first street in the Harlem

between 70 and 80. They had a center down there that we used to go down the dance. My dance step, side to side, shuffle.

Side to side, shuffle. Regardless of what type of music it was. [Laughter] And I would go there, and I'd sit on the side where the young ladies would sit

that didn't get a chance to dance too much. And I would sit and sit. And this young man, by the name of Tommy Johnson, would come and ask me to dance. I'd get up and I'd follow him out

to dance floor like the moth to flame. And we'd get out there, Tommy would do slides, turns, splits. Bend over and shake a tail feather. And I would do my little favorite step.

Side, side, side. Because of what he did, I would side, side, side, side, that was my movement. Well, Tommy did this so much. And I got tired of it.

I mean, I really got tired of it. And I went home one night after being humiliated, and I laid on my bed crying, and thinking about Tommy and his splits, and his turns, and his bent noise shaking tail feather.

I said, I could do this. I could do this. I got up off that bed.

Got my belt out of the closet,

put it on the door knob, taken it up, closed that door, and I started doing me some slides. Almost tripped over my own foot, but I still did my slides,

“and I bent over and I shook a tail feather.”

I even did the little twirling. Then I did the half split. I couldn't do the whole split of both, but the half split was suffice me. And I kept this up for a whole month.

I mean, I would eat, I would stop me, yes. I would stop and go to school, and I had to go to school, but my mother would not have that. And I come back home,

do my homework, have my dinner, go to my room, and I do my little dancing, I practice in practice and practice.

I had one night the door,

the closet door came open, I bumped my head, but I just shook that off, and kept right on dancing. And I even practiced doing a headstand, bumped my head again on the floor,

shook that off, and tried it again until I got it. Like I said, I did that for a whole month, till I felt I had it together.

And then one night, one Friday night, and six o'clock, I got dressed, and I went down to the center.

And I sat in my single spot.

“Now I don't know who time was dance with what I was going,”

but I guess he was dance with somebody. But I sat in my same spot, waiting, just waiting,

for him to come over and ask me to dance.

True to form, here comes Mr. Tommy Johnson. And I got up, and I followed him out to the dance floor. Now, when you get out to the dance floor,

if you're really doing something spectacular, a crowd would gather around you. Let it crowd is there to help you stay inside the circle, to let the person that's on the fantastic dancing, do their thing.

And if you're not dancing too good, you try to get out of that circle, you can't go nowhere. You got to stay inside that circle, and then do it the humiliation.

Well, Tommy had asked me to dance again, and I was inside the circle. And he was doing his splits. He was doing his turns. His slides.

I mean, he had to go on on, he was sliding all over his face,

“and then bending over and shaking the tail.”

And I let him go right ahead. Go ahead, slide to more. Do split. Shake a tail feather. And he even got up like he was riding a pony.

I said, yeah, go right ahead. Go right ahead. And I got tired of looking at him, doing all his slides, and everything. And I stood up to his face,

and he stood there with his mouth wide over. [laughter] Looking at me all wide, I don't bug out. And I showed him what I could do. I showed him my slides.

And I mean, I slide. You can think I was Jane Brown. [laughter] I was sliding so good. And I showed him how I could bend over and shake a tail feather.

[laughter] And I went and did me a half split, which I could do. Get it pretty good too. And he just stood there,

looking at me with his mouth wide open all buggy eyes like he was. [laughter] He tried to walk out the circle. [laughter] But they wouldn't let him out.

[laughter] They came in tighter and it forced it. And that made me more determined to do my slides. My shaker tail feather. And I even did like the pony too.

[laughter] Show him how I knew what I could do. And then when I tried of him, I slid up to his face again. [laughter]

Who am I kids? [laughter] Let him know that hey. You ain't got the all like that. I got me a little bit of a two.

And I walked out of that circle. Now, I can go back to the center for a while. And I didn't know what happened to Tommy Johnson. But anyway, when they I was walking down a hundred and fifty-three, between seven and eight dad and no,

the power of the eight was found there. And then across the street there was a store called a breakfast shack. And they were playing some news. I mean they were doing down. And it was one of James Brown's records too.

And I just something just came over me. I started dancing. Next thing I knew I had a crowd of people around me. And I just showed off even more about it. And this man stepped out of the audience.

And he said, "You know what mess you should be at the pile of the 80?"

[laughter] He said, "I'm serious." He said, "Here."

“He said, "Come here this time and on the state."”

I took the paper and I said, "Well, I couldn't lose.

My mate gained something." And on that day and at that time, I went to the Apollo theater. And they had a group of performing up there called the coasters. And the lead singer was Speedo.

He would come down and interact with the audience. He would take the mic and he would pull it to somebody. He said, "Whoa." And then he put the mic to the somebody's mouth. And they said, "Nothing."

He went to the next person. "Whoa." He got nothing. He came to me. He said, "Whoa." "Whoa." He jumped back and looked at me and grabbed my hand.

And he pulled me up on the stage.

And that's the first time in my life.

“I had never seen anybody do the twist on one leg while they got the other leg.”

It stended in front of them. Well, I couldn't do that. So I did the best thing I could do. And it's truly my posterior jumping up one at a time. And he took off his shirt.

But when he went to take off his pants, I screamed. I ran off the stage. I heard him got back to my seat. This usher came down with a flashlight. He was shouting in my face.

I said, "Oh, God, did I do something wrong?" He said, "Mist, come here." And I got up and I went to him. He said, "The manager wants to see you." And I thought to myself, "I'm going to get put out of the theater."

They're going to put me out. They're really going to put me out. And I paid the coming here. But I went up to the manager, "Brave." Very brave.

“He said, "Are you working with me with me?"”

I said, "No, sir." Now, hey, I'm 13 years old. And he said, "Would you like to appear here on stage with the courses for the rest of the week?" Was I?

Yes. He said, "You'll get paid Friday, just like they do." I said, "Thank you." He said, "You wouldn't have to go to the stage every show, but be here every day."

And I was full of phone. I was here every day. I went up on the stage, I'm going to time. And one time I was up the other stage, and who made an appearance with James Brown himself.

I said, "Wow." Did I really did something? I did my slide. And I had trained myself so well that I could do the slide, making it a figure eight.

He looked at me and he said, "Wow, little mama." That became my stage name, little mama. And from there, I went to the Carver ball room, the ringing sound spoiler, the autobahn ball room, the baby grand, the smallest paradise.

And I did my slide. And my bento wish to take a tail feather. I even did the slide. And I stopped doing my little side the side. That was off the hook, no more doing that.

I know what I'm doing that.

But to see, I never knew what happened to Tommy Johnson.

But deep down in my heart, I thanked him for humiliating me the way he did, because it made me more determined. And I mean, I was determined to throw him that I was not going to be a little step, step, step, step, step. I was going to show him something.

And I showed him. And I showed the one that helped me back in that circle that I could do something. Hold him back and let me do my thing. Wow, mama got a brand new bag.

[ Applause ] That was Audrey Pleasant. Audrey is a poet from the Bronx. And she wants you to know she can still shake a tail feather. You can find out more about our community engagement workshops,

where we craft and develop stories with veterans, nurses, and neighborhood groups by going to the moth.org. While you're there, you'll also see a photo of Audrey in her star-studded gown on stage at the moth. [ Music ]

when the moth radio hour continues. [ Music ]

“The moth radio hour is produced by Atlantic public media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.”

History that doesn't suck is a legit, heart-hitting American history podcast told through entertaining stories. As we approach America's 250th anniversary, now might be the time to go back and learn how we got here. With more than 200 episodes, you can binge your way,

take it by decking, defining event to defining event from the founding end of the 20th century. Join me, Professor Greg Jackson, for History that doesn't suck, an Odyssey podcast, available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is the moth radio hour, I'm Sarah Austin, Janes. Bushra Alfusell tells our final story in this hour.

It takes place in 2015 in Sanat, Yemen, during a three-day ceasefire with Saudi rebels, but that doesn't mean that the city is safe. In fact, her choices in this story garnered a lot of outside attention and put her at risk.

I called Bushra to have her set the stage for us. You said you were the golden sheep at one point I just love that phrase, "What kind of a kid were you?" Well, I was quiet, but I also was a rebel. I remember when I was five years old,

my mom started to teach me Arabic stories,

and the boys would always go with their fathers,

and the girls would always go to the kitchen and cut, so I was asked, "Always ask for my mom. Why the hell the girls are not going with their fathers?" So that was my start as a golden kid.

“And how was that received by your mom and your dad?”

Well, that was the norm. Like the boys goes with the fathers, and the daughters goes with the mothers and clean and make sure they have food and cooking, clean and take care of the house. But the boys would go outside with the fathers, and you know, have fun.

So, but I was like to go out with my father. I was with the college. The daughter-father girl, what's that phrase? And so when this happened, did they, could they have seen it coming?

Was this within your character to step out in this way?

Oh, yes, my mom, she always used to freak out every time I bring any sentence

towards a woman's right. And so, was this the first war you had lived through? Unfortunately not through the history of Yemen.

“We always had civil war, but this was the first time we had air strikes.”

And was it just a dangerous landscape? With air strikes, we just didn't know how to deal with it, because there's a bomb coming from the sky. So, we don't know which areas are safe, and which was not.

So, everybody was locking their self inside the houses, so the street were empty. For context, this story takes place in 2015, when Bushra was 27 years old. Live from the Moth main stage in Los Angeles,

in a collaboration with Public Radio Station KCRW, here is Bushra, Al-Fusa. One of the nights in 2015 in Sana'ai Yemen, I used to live at my parents' house, and it was around 12am,

and it woke up, and I felt my bed was shaking. I get out of my beds, and I heard a huge explosion. And I saw my dad standing on my bedroom's door, screaming, telling me, to go to the basement. I run to the basement, and I saw my mom and my two siblings.

There was no electricity, and there was no internet. An hour later, the internet was back, so I went to my Facebook, and I see Saudi coalition started to bomb Yemen. My parents were really scared,

because we never been bombed in Yemen.

We always had a civil war, but we never been bombed. We never experienced an air strike. So, me and my parents decided to stay at home, and try to keep safe.

But two weeks later, I started to get depressed, and I wanted to go back to work. At that time, I used to work at a UN agency, and I was a freelance photographer. So, I had a fight with my mom

that I want to go back to work,

But at that time, Sanaa was controlled by Yemeni rebels, and it was under a siege as well.

“So, we didn't have any fuel in the country,”

and it wasn't the first time that we had a fuel crisis.

So, a new, for more to get fuel from the black market, a new to which point, and which street, they're just standing with gallons of petrol. So, I decided to go to the black market, and to buy a gallon, which cost me that day,

from 80 to 100 used to cost $15 to $5. So, so happy I got the fuel, and I took my car the next morning, and I decided to go to the office. I started to drive, and I looked up,

and I started to see men are biking. And I was like, okay, this is, I felt happy because people are trying to find alternative ways, and it's not very familiar that bikes in Yemen, to be honest. And it reminds me, as well, about my childhood,

where me and my older sister Sarah, we used to bike in the old city of Sanaa,

“which used to be safe, and people were open-minded.”

And while I was driving, I would look at the other side, I started to see women are waiting for public transportation, fully covered from head to toe, holding a very heavy grocery plastic bag on their heads, under a very strong set.

And it reminds me about why I can't bike anymore. So Yemen is one of the most patriarchal country in the Middle East, and it's not forbidden that women could, couldn't bike, it's not against the law, and it's not against the religion.

But it's against the society, and against the traditions in Yemen. And as much as I ask myself, as I had to get more angry, why I couldn't continue to bike.

So I started to talk with my friends, what about we start to bike. And then I decided just to create a Facebook page, called Yemeni Woman Bike,

“just to see what people are going to react about it,”

and to create a platform that I could just suggest about women biking in these crisis. So people started to like that page, and I was happy that people started to talk about what if women could bike in Yemen.

And at that time, the Yemeni rebels were having a negotiation with the Saudi coalition for having a ceasefire for three days. And I was like, okay, if I'm gonna bike,

I'm gonna bike in these three days. So I did a Facebook invitation, inviting Yemeni Woman, come and join me for a ride bike.

And then the problem is, again,

Yemeni is not Amsterdam, we don't have bikes. I can't just go to the street and rent a bike. So I was like, okay, around 100 girls,

they signed up that the Guinness 10th is a campaign. So I decided to call friends and family and everybody, neighbors who's gonna lend me their bikes. So on me and my friends, I decided to run five bikes, which is amazing.

So I remember that night, I was so nervous, because I didn't know what to expect. It's so dangerous. Anybody could shoot us.

There's no government is present at that time. And to be honest, even if the government was there,

they would never protect women.

So, but I was like, I have to do it. So that morning came at 6am. I woke up. I wrote in my Facebook. It's a revolutionary day.

And I hired the bikes at the back here because I didn't tell my parents. I was always the golden sheep in my family. So I just hired them. And I took my card.

My dad's for a car. And I just jumped them inside. And I just went. And then I chose this huge highway in Yemen. And I knew it was dangerous,

but I wanted us to be very visible for everybody. And I just want everybody just to see us. But that street was destroyed because there was before they bumped that street. So there is rock there and there.

But I ignored all these facts.

“And I just put the five bikes next to me.”

And I was just waiting. Holding my camera. And I thought that, okay, I'm crazy. Maybe nobody's going to show up. It's just going to be me.

But I look up. I saw my friend. And I was like, that's great. Two of us is amazing. And then I look up.

Then my other friend came. I was like, I can't ask for more than that. Three of us is amazing. And then I see two ladies are walking from the checkpoint to where does.

And she came and introduced herself. She's like, hi, this is me and my daughter.

We can't support the campaign,

but we don't know how to bike. That was the cutest thing I ever saw in the event. To be honest. So I was so happy. And around five minutes,

we gathered 11 girls.

“And everybody just thought it to take the bike”

and take the turns. And everybody was so happy. And I was trying to take photos with my phone and my camera. And the girls told me, please don't show our faces.

And I respected that. So I was like taking photos, but not showing the faces. And it came my turn. And as I said, we were like, a long way by.

So I pulled out my idea. I got on the bike.

And as soon as I started to bike,

I started to feel the breeze into my scarf and to my body. And I went back. I felt like the turmoil that I was just biking. And I was so happy.

I completely forgot that we were under a siege or controlled by Yemeni rebels or being bombed with the Saudi coalition. And as well, there was like men were driving through

with their cars and screaming. They were crazy.

“Or go back to your home and all these nasty words”

but I completely blocked them out because I was so happy. And I just felt the moment of freedom at that moment where I was biking. So for two hours we biked.

Everybody left. Everybody was happy. And I was so excited. I shared some pictures to my friends. I was like, what do you think?

And I returned the bikes. I went back home. And as soon as I stopped in, my parents were standing there, telling me, what should I?

What did you do today? Did you bike? I was like, no, I didn't bike. I just bought a graph. I lied.

People are knocking the door and people are calling us. There were so mad. But I just loved to my room. I was like, I just forgot a graph.

That's it. So I went in and I checked my Facebook. And I started to receive all these phone calls and messages. What have I done? Where is my dad?

Why is they're not controlling me? People are starting to knock the door. Asking about my dad, what have I done? Was I creating a war in a wartime? And I met a bad influencer for the Yemeni girls.

And all these messages that they said that if they ever saw me biking, they're going to just beat me up. So it was very intense. I just closed the phone. And my dad's ignored his phone calls to

and he didn't open the door for anybody. Next morning, my mom decided to take us to my older sister's house because it was so intense. And we went there, I had a nap, that afternoon. And I was listening, I heard that my mom, she was laughing.

So went down, I went to the backyard. And I saw my mom is trying to get on the bike, trying to balance. And our backyard, like nobody could see us, is fully covered. And that was like a silent solidarity for my mother, without no words, which was very, very cute.

And then my sister came and she was telling me luck at her Facebook. I started to look to the photo. And then there's this Yemeni girl who posted a picture while biking in Yemen underneath it, saying,

"In solidarity with Yemeni woman bike." And then while I was crawling more down, I started to see Yemeni woman in Canada doing a campaign in solidarity with Yemeni woman bike. And then I scroll down from Canada, from Egypt, from New York,

from DC, from London, from all over the world,

that have been posted posting in Facebook

“and hashtagging in solidarity with Yemeni woman bike.”

I was extremely happy. And I felt like, "I'm not that crazy girl." And I showed my parents like, "See, your daughter is not crazy." We have the right to bike. And it's true that this had been since five years.

And unfortunately, the war is still going on. And the Yemeni rebels are stronger. And there's no rights for women in Yemen. And it's true that we were just 11 girls, including myself.

We were biking. But it felt a moment of freedom. And thank you. [applause] That was Bushra Al-Fusail.

Bushra lives in New York now. She spends her time organizing in the Yemeni American community. She works in property management. And she's still taking photographs.

Here's Bushra again. Do you think women are still biking? No, unfortunately not. As I said, they're controlling more of the city. Control more of the country.

And women are being more scared. So do you think that the bike riding was worth it? Yes, definitely yes. Because the amount of the Yemeni woman that I got support after the campaign and that they know this is possible,

but not under the rebels, definitely not. But they know as soon as they're not controlling the city, this is an option for them to bike. But right now, as long as they're there, unfortunately we can't.

It's like Taliban and Afghanistan. But you think the mothers and the daughters remember this day and know that at some point it could happen again. Definitely that's one mission that I'm going to do. And remind the people that one day under it,

you know, controlling these rebels and under the air strikes of Saudi coalition, that we were able to do it under three days of troops,

but one day you never know.

You just sound like such a badass,

“because it doesn't sound as dangerous as I think it actually want.”

Do you just have nerves of steel or like how dangerous was this? Well, it was so dangerous thinking about it today. But at the moment, I didn't think about it because I was afraid of him going to stop myself from doing it. I was really panicking because I was responsible for the gross

who was going to come in. And there was a big huge possibility that will be shot, where we'll be beaten, we will be kidnapped. And this is what I'm seeing today from the rebels that the controlling center, this is what they do for women,

especially outspoken women like me or anybody try to challenge them. So definitely doing this, I was like, I was risking my life and risking other people, but we didn't have anything to lose at that point,

like either we're going to dive from air strikes or from these people. So I decided at least, you know, doing whatever I want to have, that's my right. And when you think this is your right, you're not afraid, like you're willing to challenge

whatever it needs to go out and you just do it. It's incredible, incredible, incredible. And can you describe some of the beautiful photographs

“that the photographs related to this historic event?”

Well, my favorite photo is the one that comes with the background of the mosque, but I love taking pictures while the girls were getting on the bike and just riding the bike. And you know, seeing their abayas are just flying at the back of their bikes.

So I never, I never imagined that I would see that at all.

So I was seeing that I felt like I was in a dream. [Music] Bushra al-Fusail. [Music] You can see Bushra's photographs

from this historic day at the Moth.org. Do you have a story to tell us? You can picture your story by recording it right on our site.

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[Music] That's it for this episode. We hope you'll join us next time. [Music]

“This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me,”

Jay Allison, and Sarah Austin Genes, who also hosted

and directed the stories in the show along with Katherine Burns. Co-producer is Fiky Merrick, Associate Producer Emily Couch. The Moth's leadership team includes

Gina Duncan, Christina Norman, Marina Cluchet, Jennifer Hickson, Jordan Cardinaly, Caledonia Cairns, Kate Teller, Suzanne Rust,

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While stories are true, is remembered in a firm by the storytellers. Our theme music is by the drift. Other music in this hour is from Epidemic Sound. Podcast music production support from Davy Sumner.

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