There’s a thing my family
members said for years – father, mother, sisters, and me – when telling about a
situation that bothered us in some way but in which we kept our mouths shut: “I
could have said something!” A
continuation of the sentence was sometimes spoken, always implied: “But I
didn’t!” I don’t know if both our
parents came into the marriage with this phrase or if one of them got it from
the other, but they both used it all the time, and we, their daughters, learned
to use it, too. It was usually said with a little sniff of superiority and a
lifting of the chin, saying louder than words that, in not saying anything, we had taken the moral and spiritual high ground. I think the real truth is that we were too shy, too afraid to speak out, but we wanted to hide the fear in something that made us look better -- to ourselves, if to no one else.
So now, if some of my adult friends
today think I’m too much of a crank, this is my explanation: I spent too many
years of my life not saying anything,
letting ignorant or insulting or offensive or mistaken or hurtful remarks go unchallenged.
For too long, I unnecessarily gave ground. I
said nothing when I should have said something.
True, there are times when saying
anything is pointless and times when saying something once and then shutting up
is about all that’s worth doing. But there are also times, and there are
issues, when not saying anything
or shutting up too soon is the
worst cop-out possible. Listening is always important, but so, often, is
speaking out. And I do not want the inscription on my metaphorical tombstone
(probably the only kind I’ll ever have) to read: “She could have said something
– but she didn’t.”
8 comments:
Your comments are ALWAYS enlightening, Pamela.
Just saying.
Aw, shucks, Trudy!
Great post, Pamela!
Afriend wrote me an e-mail I want to share here:
“Enjoyed reading this, and your thoughts. It’s sometimes a bit hard to think of saying out loud what I might be thinking, and maybe I should try to temper my state of mind first of all. I think of one person I know who often says exactly what she’s thinking and the vitriol is difficult to hear. Not always, but she leaves anger and hurtful feelings, and a lot of discomfort.”
My response:
“I appreciate your thoughts, and I was thinking only this morning that there's another side to the coin: I certainly don't want to blurt out every thought that passes through my mind! Also, I often spend a long time writing a post for my blog, only to decide to delete rather than "publish." Finally, the wonderful e-mail composition option "save as draft" has saved my butt more than once!”
But then I went on:
“Actually, the friend who spews vitriol is someone who may need to hear from others the effect her words are having. That's the kind of thing best not passed over in silence, I'm thinking.
“But yes, tempering our own minds is always of paramount importance!”
This was e-mail from another friend, one who has known me and, to a lesser degree, my family for many, many years:
"Beautifully written, Pamela, and the imagined epitaph quite chilling (when you state it in the 3rd person it’s really powerful.) I remember your telling me about this family habit. I’d thought it was only among the women, who wouldn’t/didn’t/couldn’t stand up to your father, but I see it was a [family] practice.
"I have a friend who I consider the bravest woman I know, who was abused as a child and as a woman, and who always calls out abuse. I am highly unskilled at speaking out – when I try to point out wrongheaded beliefs or unfair comments and am answered with shouting or additional wrongheadedness, my mind goes blank because I’m often stunned, horrified or confused by what they’re claiming. I say nothing, and the other person thinks he/she has 'won.' I’m not good at thinking on my feet, and need time to collect my thoughts, by which time the moment has often passed. Still, it’s worth the attempt to 'say something.'”
I often feel as my friend does -- stunned, horrified, and confused. As women, too, we have been accused all our lives of being "too emotional," and memories of that criticism often hold us back.
I guess what I want to work on doing is to calm myself first, as much as I can, but then, even if the "moment has passed" -- as it so often does for those of us who do not think quickly on our feet! -- say, "I'd like to go back to something you said earlier" and then say what I have to say.
Great theory, difficult practice? True of so many traits I'd like to cultivate in myself! How about the rest of you?
I appreciate your posts when you speak up! All of us, well, some of us, hide our thoughts behind a wall of conventionality. But by sharing so deeply, we see inside!
Alexis, I think there's a lot to be said for convention. Does that surprise you? The conventional manners I was taught as a child called on me to respect everyone, not to engage in name-calling, and lots of other good stuff. One thing I wish had been made clearer was that I shouldn't let others get away with disrespecting me or others: that's when I see speaking up as crucial.
Here's something from an advice column in the Detroit Free Press on Dec. 5, 2014:
"Dear Miss Manners:
"At a church supper, I clearly heard an acquaintance say that all suicide is because of self-pity.
:Not only am I a mental health professional, but I have a personal history of suicidal feelings of my own...."
The incident had taken place "several months" before the letter was written to Miss Manners. That is, the writer didn't say anything at the time but was still haunted by having remained silent.
This is part of the reply:
"Miss Manners suggests quietly saying, 'I assume you've been fortunate enough not to encounter this situation.'
"Leave it at that. There are more effective ways to channel your desire to be an advocate than embarrassing individuals, which rarely works."
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