Between Shouting and Silence
As a general rule, I try to not speak for others. Even though I’m the Band’s resident diva, I append statements to sentences like, “…if that’s okay with you,” and so on. But there are a few places where I speak for others.
One is for my brother. After his accident nearly 16 years ago, Brad doesn’t communicate in typical ways. Brad communicates in more subtle ways; facial expressions, finger gestures, hand squeezes, and hugs. (And yes, he uses THAT hand gesture too.) But folks who don’t see him often aren’t tuned into what he’s saying. They see a disabled person who can’t perform tasks on command – and they think that means that the metaphorical lights are not on upstairs. This is patently untrue.
When my mother and I are around Brad, we constantly act as interpreters for him. We see the subtle eyebrow raise, the resistance or compliance to a request, the finger signals, the wrapping of his arm around you for a hug, the grateful gaze as he looks at you while you’re spending time or taking care of him. We tell the nurses, doctors, and other care providers what he’s “saying”. If we did not do that, he would have no voice. And that’s unacceptable. So, I gratefully do it whenever I can. And my mother has dedicated the last 16 years of her life to doing exactly that, and will continue to do so as long as she lives.
The other place I speak for others is for my children. Being various ages from 4 to 14, they have different interpersonal relationship skills and abilities to advocate for their needs and wants. Add in some neurodiversity in my family, and we all need a little help. This can manifest in Katherine (7) defending Bri (4), or Daphne (14) needing help from Dad and me navigating a conflict or misunderstanding.
But it’s not just for my loved ones. As a straight-passing, cisgender white female from a third-generation white collar family, I have a lot of privilege. With the current administration tearing apart DEI initiatives, attempting to erase transgender history and existence, and all the other acts of discrimination and destruction they are committing, my privilege and voice MUST be used in service to all the people who are being marginalized and disenfranchised.
I have a LGBTQ+ pride flag hanging in front of my house. I donate to places like this church, who is fighting for our Sanctuary Families, and my kids’ elementary school. When I can afford two, I provide two – to make up for someone who cannot. And I engage in hard conversations when someone else is unable to. We, as members of this society, this country, this world, and universe, have a responsibility to speak up in response to injustice, and act when and where we can.
Prayer: May we remember to listen for unmet needs and inequality. And may we use our abundance of resources, our strong, loving hearts, and our words to make the world a better place. Amen
Elizabeth Robertson
(see photos below)
