Releasing Our Voices: Sing Sisters!

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Dodoma Federation: The Sejeseje group of the Tanzania Federation of the Urban Poor, composed of mostly poor women living in slums, celebrate the purchase of six acres of land in Dodoma, using their own savings, before they start building their houses. Dancing, singing and drum music are always part of such celebrations.

For too long the literal and figurative voices of women have been silenced, and now many of us find ourselves wrestling our tongues free day by day. The voices I speak of are not just sounds rising from our throats, but actions driven from our core, ideas inspired by our spirit. The embodied feminine principle has its own  rhythm, sound, texture– a unique quality often stereotyped as meek, when in fact, receptivity, passion, intuition, innovation, and intensity tend to be the characteristics of the empowered feminine. The world is aching for the voices of women; it is time to claim our voices and heal the planet with our song.

Sometimes the silencer is men, sometimes other women, but more often than not, the silencer is our own selves. Many of us women were raised by women who were just learning that they had voices, but had not yet learned to use or value them. Perhaps we were never told explicitly that women need to hold their tongues, not be so radical, not be confrontational, but the implicit instructions were to be subservient, silent, and passive. To a greater or lesser degree we have internalized these teachings demonstrated by our well-meaning mentors and now find ourselves struggling against our own internal advisor. 

Collectively, we are beginning to truly re-define womanhood, find our voices and use them. The process, however, is volatile, precarious, and somewhat intimidating, both to ourselves and others. As I have watched this process in myself and other women I have noticed that there tends to be a rhythm to the awakening voice. 

First, we stutter. The stuttering may or may not be our literal voices. Often it manifests as an offered idea couched in apprehension and self-deprecation:"This probably sounds crazy..." "It would probably never work, but..." Sometimes this manifests as a women not being able to construct a sentence. If we were able to look inside her head though, we would see magnificent ideas and dreams clouded by an internal advisor's voice whispering, "Don't sound too smart," "That makes no sense," "Don't sound too confident." Figuratively, a woman stuttering looks like projects begun, but not completed, or dreams un-manifested: the stones are arranged in a circle, the kindling is propped for burning, but the fire never comes and the dreamer begins to freeze to death in the absence of her untended passion.

Perhaps the fear of dying scares us, or the frustration of squelching our own ambitions finally gets the better of us. Whatever it is, we can stand it no more and we scream.  We scream at the internal advisor and the external oppressor. We scream to release it all. Eventually no amount of discouragement can keep our thoughts and ideas from erupting; and just like an awakening volcano, the scene can be volatile. Again, the screaming may be literal or something similar:  aggressive remarks, forceful insistence of our beliefs, relentless confrontations. The screaming may also look like radical actions: cutting off or dying our hair, taking dangerous risks, or over-indulgence in alcohol or some other escape.

When the dust settles from the explosion of repressed ideas, thoughts, and dreams, we begin to speak. Gently, we lie the internal advisor down to sleep; we put flowers on her grave; we thank her for her attempts to protect us and save us from a dangerous world. We then begin to reason things out with others who are finding their voices.We may write to hear our own words, or paint just to feel the medium under our brushes, we may dance to feel the pleasure of our bodies, or we may plan a new business. Slowly, we learn to listen and talk with confidence to ourselves and others. Vague ambitions begin to formulate and manifest gracefully and certainly; we begin to put one foot in front of the other to realize our dreams. The hysteria dies down, and the woman refreshed and released begins to allow the passion and direction of the universe to guide her gently, fluidly like a mountain stream.

And as we open ourselves to the universe, we find that our speaking voices begin to be inspired. Yes, it is our voice rising from our lips, but the sound erupts delicious, and attractive... we find ourselves singing! Our voices are our own, but fused with the divine. Our words resonate, sparkle, inspire; our actions bring joy, healing, and hope to a world in despair, pain, and dis-ease. A singing woman pierces through the cacophony of this world and reminds her daughters, her sons, her lovers and her sisters of the divine world from which we come. A singing woman heals the poisoned waters, nurtures the raped earth, protects the animals, and empowers the children with her sweet vibrations. She sings a new song into the hearts of her daughters. Her sons respect her. Her partners revere here. And as she sings she finds it echoes through her thoughts, words, and deeds. 


Sisters, release your voices and sing! Gradually, as each woman finds her voice the world will begin to harmonize, the planet will be made anew, and we will all realize heaven on earth. 


"Of course! the path to heaven doesn't lie down in flat miles. It's in the imagination with which you perceive this world, and the gestures with which you honor it." ~Mary Oliver (from the poem "The Swan")