Last Tuesday, I took my children to see Clementine Ford at the Embassy Theatre here in Wellington. Of all the wonderful things she said, one particularly stuck with me:
"Once I found my big voice, I had to use it."
I felt goosebumps, as I pondered what it means - to find your big voice, to feel confident in it's value, and to use it without apology.
I've always had a big voice, but for a long time, I turned down it's volume. "Sssshhh" I told it. "You're too loud. Too much. Too troublesome. You won't 'get anywhere' if you say things like that. People won't like it. It's unprofessional."
I'm not doing that anymore. And neither should you.
All across this great nation, clever, passionate people are shrinking. They're dimming their light as they try to conform to workplaces, social structures and relationships that don't serve them, lest they cause discomfort.
Shrinking comes under many labels: Professionalism. Being nice. Fitting in. Being a good parent. Being a good friend. Being a good leader. Being a good worker. Getting ahead. Getting along.
No matter what we call it, we avoid ruffling feathers, and we put other people's comfort before our own integrity - and it's time that stopped. The people you are protecting don't need your protection. They need your gifts. They need your insight. They need your lived experience, your opinions, and your contribution. They need your voice. Your big voice. They might not like it, but they need it.
It isn't an easy road, finding your voice - and it isn't easy to use it, either. When you do, you risk backlash. At its worst, you risk gaslighting and ostracism. But you're not on your own.
In Te Ao Maori, strength is found in singing*. The volume and harmony of many voices, when they unite, becomes a force more powerful than any solo vocalist can achieve alone. Conflicts are resolved, causes are championed and belonging is felt.
Now, I'm no conductor, and I certainly can't sing (though I will take you on at Singstar any day of the week). But I'd like to hear your voice... and I'll be your backup singer. When we elevate the voices around us, we create a chorus of change. A cacophony of resistance. A sound that becomes too loud to ignore.
I don't want you to be silent. It's time to use your big voice. If you're worried your voice is too quiet, and you need a megaphone: let me know. Tell me your story, ask me your questions, and while I can't answer all the wonderful replies that I get to this newsletter, please know that I read each and every one of them, and that you are being heard.
*Note: I learned about the power of song in Te Ao Maori quite recently, from an incredible young woman who is facing gaslighting at work. I wrote about her experience, and what it means to be professionally gaslit, in this article. You should read it.
“My voice is strong and imposing, and my legs are powerful enough to hold up its weight. I wake up every day assured of my right to not only participate in the world as an equal part of it, but to loudly reject the narrative that keeps trying to tell me to pipe down, fold in, shrivel up, simper, apologise and slink my way through life so as not to offend or upset anyone with the complicated, beautiful mess that is me. I have fought the odds to get here, empowered by the knowledge that every single woman who has come before me has fought her own battle in order to survive. We fight like girls. This is how we prevail. And this is why we're still standing.”
― Clementine Ford, Fight Like a Girl