When Silence Is Violence

 

Our recent U.S. election has some questioning whether, when, and how to use their voice. Being vocal and standing up for what’s right and just can be dangerous when those who hold the reins of power call for retribution against rivals alleged to have illegally wronged them. During times such as these, remaining silent may seem the safest option.

 

Putting our own hands over our mouth

But it’s not merely a question of whether to speak or not speak, the election results also have some questioning the efficacy of their speech, its timeliness, and its audience. Clearly something is going wrong between the speaker and listener these days. If, in fact, there is a listener. Perhaps silence is good for a time—to listen, learn, reflect, and consider how to speak from a place of deeper wisdom.

We all know we have a right to remain silent—under certain circumstances at least. In many cases, though, it’s not so much a right as a privilege. Those of us who can blend into the dominant culture more easily have the privilege to remain silent whereas others may not. Those of color or “obvious” ethnicity, women with reproductive health needs, immigrants, transgender, gay, and queer people are increasingly denied space in which to remain silent. They are not simply left alone to be who they are. Hardship and oppression come for them. Silence is truly a luxury at such times.

Like “no justice, no peace,” the topic of my previous post, “White silence is violence” is a sentiment I first heard chanted at Black Lives Matter demonstrations on the streets of Ferguson and surrounding areas. Yes, we White people do have the privilege to decide whether to remain silent or confront our racist legacy. We enjoy the ability to value our comfort over the justice that others must fight for. Make no mistake, though, when we of the dominant race remain silent, our silence is violence.

Our silence results in a dearth of political will to create more equitable systems of all types. Our silence allows racist criminal justice policies to continue. It allows economic disenfranchisement to be perpetrated, and it allows underprivileged areas to continue being served by subpar schools that wouldn’t be tolerated in predominately White communities. Our silence affirms the status quo and makes it easier for the oppressed to be killed. Our silence is violence.

Unfortunately, the White patriarchal power structure within this country has only grown more powerful and emboldened since Black Lives Matter protests first erupted on our nation’s streets. A growing list of groups has become acceptable to other in increasingly strident fashion. Yes, let’s take a little time to reflect upon the why, when, how, and with whom of our speech. But let’s not remain silent for long. Our spiritual calling compels us to speak truth to power.

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This post is in the Power, Practice, and Peace series.

Find a running list of all posts in this series by clicking here.

  

Images

Courtesy of the author.

 

Copyright 2021 and 2024 by Mark Robert Frank