From the time I brought home Gerald, my brand new son; my daughter, Aila was protective of him. Bringing extra blankets to his bouncy chair, food to his exersaucer (no wonder he was a chubb) and standing at his side while he lay on the couch if he had a fever. Having them 19 months apart was hard on Glenn and I but man was it worth it for the love they now share.
So, it’s not surprising when last year at school he was being bullied during recess and Aila tried to come to his rescue by soliciting the help of the supervisor. But she was shut down. Gerald’s behaviour was dismissed as “he’s just being a boy” and Aila's 7-year-old concerns fell on deaf ears. My teary daughter needed help having her voice heard.
Has this ever happened to you? Were you lucky enough to have an advocate? Someone who could articulate your needs? Luckily for Aila, she has a Mom who can.
Finding my voice.
That is my comeback mantra.
Being silenced has been a part of my history and so I have actively stood against issues that are meant to keep us restrained - trauma, abuse, fear, hate. It’s probably why I developed my skills as a Public Speaker. Its definitely why I started this blog. I want to be the voice for those who may not have one or are looking for words to resonate with. My mission was Connection. And then Coronavirus hit and I went silent.
At first, I thought I was just overwhelmed. My husband barely made it out of Africa before they closed the borders and the airport for his deployment leave. While we have perceived it as a blessing and are grateful, it has meant that he has been laid off without pay until International travel resumes. At the same time, his heart is with his mates who are essentially trapped on base for months; unable to support their families during these times of uncertainty. Lockdown and isolation across the world for these men doesn’t mean that the bombs buried underground go inactive.
It has meant a deeper career shift for me too as I became a grade 2 and 4 teacher - and not a good one either! I never desired homeschooling as a career and watching my kids say a premature goodbye to their teachers and friends as they headed into isolation brought me to my knees. We work hard to balance mental health and the incessant emails to coordinate meetups and assignments and new technology. Bless teachers, man… Normalcy can’t come back fast enough.
But then, when I started to breathe and to think about you and us; I realized why this silence means more. I have been speaking for a while now. Motivating people through pain and helping them find that “push”, past the point where they usually give up. I write speeches and teach classes but instead of filling the air during this time, I knew I had to quiet my old life to get ready for this new one.
I’m now asking,
Why are our voices so important?
It’s not THE words that we speak. It’s HOW we speak. I don’t just want to fill up space. To take up precious air and time… time that we can’t get back. I want to connect with you and also teach you how to share your story. I want to reach down into that heart space and be real. To talk about the silent spaces.
There are so many places you can go online and face to face, so thank you for coming here. I am honoured to be the place you found. This isn’t a coincidence. You are meant to be here.
And now for the next step… I need to hear your voice too. Whether it be an email, a response to this blog, or by joining me on Facebook and Instagram. You didn’t find me to read these words, you found me to connect. So let’s get our voices rising! Let’s start a movement of Breaking Silences!!!