By Paulette Cooper
Shackles and laryngitis—two words that normally do not go together in the same sentence. Unless, you are a woman who has been shackled to keep you from speaking and letting your voice be heard as when laryngitis renders vocal chords silent. The woman who has had the most profound influence on my life is not just one woman. It is every woman who has no voice. Every woman who is not allowed to speak, every woman whose voice is silenced by imposed laryngitis. The woman with heavy iron shackles around her ankles, whom I met in a village near El Fasher in Darfur, has come to embody all those silent women for me. I held her as she cried for the life she wanted and would never have. She stands as a symbol for the world’s voiceless women. There are so many of us.
I grew up in an age and time when women did not have much of a voice. There were a few strong outspoken women, but I was not among them. Instead, I kept quiet, did what was expected, and “went along” with the prevailing culture of the day. Oh, how I envied those strong women their strength to do battle with the status quo. I settled for the idea that my options were to get married ASAP, and if I had to work, I could be a secretary, teacher, or nurse. Secretary won since I could not afford college. I did that later graduating from college the same week my older daughter graduated from high school. And still, my voice was silent. I did the one thing I knew to do.
I raised both my daughters to be that strong woman I wanted to be. I raised them to never “settle” for silence. I taught them to speak out for themselves and to graduate from college, to have a career, and to never be dependent on a man for their livelihood. It worked. The influence of the silent women has been profound in my life.
I have finally found a voice, albeit a small one. But, still it is one voice. I now speak for the woman in Darfur, who was shackled because she wanted an education. I speak for the countless women in the world who have been raped, tortured, and silenced. I speak for the children, especially for the infant who was tossed in the air and used as “target practice” by the janjaweed in Darfur. I use my once silent voice to speak for those who have none. I know what it is like to have imposed laryngitis. I am making progress in finding my voice. I thank the countless silent women in the world who are giving me the strength to speak out for them. Listen carefully, and you just might be able to hear one small voice begin to roar.
Contact Paulette at PBCoop [at] swbell [dot] net
