Like many people, I’m worried. Scared, even. This feels like the beginning of a new age, and not the kind I’d hoped my children would inherit. Since the first of the year, I’ve been doing a project: #20resistance20hope. It’s been my way of stepping up as well as taking care of myself.
What I’ve learned through this process so far is that I have taken democracy for granted. I’ve voted, but otherwise I haven’t worked to help maintain it. I haven’t stepped up, haven’t taken on the burden of the responsibility that goes along with the power of having a voice.
I have a voice.
Often I feel I don’t, because it doesn’t reach as far as I’d like, spark the kind of change I’d like to help instigate. The people who read my words, who hear my voice, are a handful of amazing writer-friends, my family, and literary agents. And you. Thank you for listening.
Through my small–and I mean small–acts of resistance and of hope, I’m learning that I do reach a few people, and that that matters. I don’t need a huge platform. Despite all my childhood dreams, I am not going to SAVE THE WORLD. But that’s okay, because that’s not the work I’m here to do–I’m here to save what I can.
Often I feel silence–by the enormity of events, by the volume of others’ voices, by my own self-doubt. I need to use my voice more, and I need to speak truth. It doesn’t matter how far it reaches–what matters is that there are others speaking truth, and we are legion.
I’m figuring out how to continue this project past the twenty days. I’d love your thoughts, and your company.
How are you using your one true voice?