This I Believe-To Have a Voice

This I Believe- To Have a Voice

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I believe in equality

I believe in freedom

I believe in what cannot be seen

But most importantly,

I believe in having a voice. A voice that is able to flow and ebb, but still be heard. A voice that is not restricted by societal roles, by gender, by power, by influence. A voice that isn`t held back by cruelty, by pain, by fear, by the belief that you have no right to speak. The belief that you were given all you need to project your voice, even when the oppressor’s boot comes crushing down on your windpipe. The belief that to speak would mean to be suffocated by the judgement of those around you.

I believe in emerging from the ashes of a deathly fire. I believe in light. I believe that you were given speech so that you could build an armour out of language and hold it against your chest to fend off those who can`t see the beauty in the words you speak. I believe in stringing together a ladder out of the words and climbing up high out of a grave of oppressive silence.

I believe in the simplest form of speaking.

And it doesn`t have to verbal. Shown through hands that flow freely through the air, written down by glistening ink by the candlelight, choreographed in bounds and leaps, using the hands you were given to create something beautiful, something only you know the true essence of.

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When I was younger, my voice was locked away in a chest that I couldn`t find the key too. I would call in others to help me sometimes, my gestures frantic and wide. And they would saunter in. Head held high, voice so loud I had to clasp my ears tightly and close my eyes. They would look around my small room, maybe they would pick up this or that before putting it back down again. Maybe they would accidently drop something and when we searched together, sometimes they would “accidently” step on me as they looked high and I looked low. And when they couldn`t find it, they would shake their head, kick the chest a couple times in frustration and close the door behind them. Sometimes with a bang, sometimes with a whisper.

And so I searched alone.

But how was I to know that the key was inside my pocket the whole time? That when I sat knees curled into my chest, tears streaming down my face I started to give up on my search. That someone came barging in, without asking, and sat down beside me. That the first thing they did was not look around but rather realize that some things can`t be found unless you talk to the person who lost it. That a voice is given as a gift, and with the right amount of nudging it didn`t take much to find the key.

Everyone has a key.

So I believe in digging out the key from your pocket. I believe in sidestepping the broken glass, the teared down curtains, the mess littering the floor, and approaching the chest. I believe in closing your eyes and knowing that whatever happens you have the courage to open what was meant to be yours all along. I believe in embracing every part of the life you were destined to live. I believe in having your voice flow for the world, because the world has been longing to put you down next to all the other beautiful poets, scholars, and authors. I believe that any cloth that threatens to bound you can fall away if you stand tall and proud.

I believe in a voice that isn’t afraid to rise.

I believe in a voice that knows it’s destined to be heard.

I believe in a voice that moves and shakes the ground it stands on.

I believe in a voice that is true and passionate.

I believe in a voice that can never be restrained.

I believe that the world has been waiting on the tip about to fall into the unknown and that we must allow ourselves to fall just so we can rise again on the ground of something new and see a whole new life.

I believe that the greatest injustice is the voices that have been captured, bound, cut off, destroyed, so that those who believe they’re above can tread on your broken ladder. I believe every voice has a right to be heard.

I believe in having a voice, and this is mine.

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