Voices

Voices--and I'm not talking about the numerous ones in my head.  Okay maybe in some ways I am talking about them.  There are so many voices coming at us everyday.  There are voices that tell us who we should be, what we should do, and what the world expects of us, and then there are voices that tell us not to listen to those voices.  The world tells us to speak up and the world tells us to be quiet. The world tries to dictate our voices, to have our voices sing in harmony instead of harmonizing.  (Harmony/Harmonizing)

Recently I was told, "You need to claim your voice.  You don't have to hide behind mine to claim your authority, to state what you think."  There was power in that gift given to me, and if I'm honest I was also frustrated and maybe even a tad angry.  I started thinking about claiming voice, and I also started thinking about how often structures, institutions, and families work so hard to keep our voices silent. There is so often the message of "claim your voice" but not at work if it differs from the boss, "claim your voice" but not in school if it isn't the answer that's going to get you the A; "claim your voice"  but not if it reveals family secrets, "claim your voice" in the church but not if it disagrees with others or if it stirs things up, basically "claim your voice" unless it's going to make others uncomfortable, unless it's going to make others squirm, unless it's going to cause discord in the song the world wants to hear.

For days I thought about this conversation and what it meant for me (okay, for days I have obsessed about this conversation.)  I have thought about why I don't claim my voice--y'all are thinking, "Really?  You talk all the time." But talking and claiming voice are not always the same thing.  I couldn't let this go, so I did what any good, obsessive person does, I brought the issue to my therapist (have I told you how wonderful she is?--and by the way she has a deep abiding faith that I find refreshing and life giving.)  I went on and on about this until she stopped me and said, "What happened to you that made you not use your voice?  When is the first time you felt silenced? What is it your afraid of happening if you do use your voice?"  Oh man, I so didn't want to go there.

The details aren't important, but what I learned from these early experiences is that using my voice can cause misunderstanding and that misunderstanding can result in shame which leads to hiding and to silence.  I learned not to trust myself and to always assume that people will misunderstand me, that they will think the worst of me.  There have been many times I have had a conversation with someone, perseverated in my head about something I said, and called them to clarify only to find they don't even remember what I'm talking about (and now they do think I'm nuts!).  I finish many sentences with, "Does that make sense?"  I also learned that I can be hard to take.  I remember a bridesmaid luncheon when someone I loved and respected shushed me and said, "You're too loud, no one wants to hear it."  I am loud-I prefer to call it exuberant or full of energy, but it is loud.  Those words spoken at that luncheon have resonated in my bones for over 20 years.  (Perhaps some people are thankful; can you imagine how "exuberant" I might be if that hadn't been said?  Ye Gads!!!!)  The truth is, for some people it is too much, for some people it is overwhelming, annoying and flat out obnoxious.  The fact is that using voice also has a responsibility--a responsibility to use it appropriately, yet what often happens is instead of teaching or guiding others to use their voice appropriately we just silence it.  It's faster, easier and immediate--let's face it we are a society that wants  effortless, immediate, and pain free results.

A few days after the above conversation, I had another one with a friend.  She was telling me about a situation in her life.  It's her story to tell but I was so in awe of how she had let her daughter use her voice, how it was causing some difficulty for her personally but how she remained steadfast in allowing her daughter her voice despite her own discomfort.  I so admire this woman.  She allowed her daughter to use her voice; she encouraged her daughter to use her voice, and she used her own.

Two days ago one of mine had an incident happen on the basketball court.  He (so that narrows it down to two) said something to the coach, and the coach misunderstood.  He was pulled from the game and then a conversation continued afterwards based on what the coach believed he had heard or on what he believed had been the intention of the conversation.  Chris told him, "You have to go talk to him.  You need to explain what you meant."  And y'all know the crazy person in me wanted him to text the coach that night, "FIX THIS my head and heart were screaming!  Don't be misunderstood, being misunderstood is the worst thing that can happen to you. People won't like you."  (and that's a whole other story)  Yesterday morning I reminded (threatened) him to talk to the coach with these words, "If you don't Daddy will."  He came home, and I asked him if he'd talked to him.  "No, and I'm not going to.  This is my choice."  BAM!! Right upside the head it smacked me.  I was trying to control his voice, trying to control his relationships, his reputation.  I remembered my friend and her grace, her amazing parenting--how she allowed her child to use her voice and she dealt with her own discomfort by herself as an adult.  It hit me, sometimes teaching our children to use their voices also means allowing them to make a decision contrary to what we would do and to support them through the consequences.  (I suspect he won't get much playing time in the next game a fact he fully understands but still chooses, but I will still be in the bleachers cheering the team on.)  Sometimes allowing our children to use their own voices makes us uncomfortable.

Teaching our children to use their voices is so important and so difficult.  It is allowing them to make decisions (age appropriate of course), but if we don't do it, then they will be in their 40's having someone ask them why they don't use their voice; they will spend many years not singing their songs for fear that their voice doesn't fit with the song of the world.

So I think about voices--what does it mean to claim my voice, and just as importantly what does it mean to allow others to claim their voices?  It means being okay with chosen silence; it means not being afraid; it means listening to, really listening to other voices and finding the beauty in them; it means learning to sing with other voices not necessarily the song the world is already singing. Maybe by using our voices, by claiming our own authentic voices the song will change and all our voices together will create the song the world was meant to sing.

PS--I do recognize (and I came to this all on my own!) that writing and this blog is my way of practicing in a safe space using my voice.  Thank you to all who read it, who respond to it, who challenge me and who affirm me.