Once there was a girl who was instructed not to talk.
This girl was given an assignment to write a paper on what freedom meant to her. She was going to have to read it to her 60 of her classmates. And she chose to talk about her voice. While she was nervous about it, she knew the subject of her paper was more important than her anxiety.
The administration sent a very late email to the girl’s parents letting them know the subject was too raw to let her read in class. (Most likely, they knew the mom would march into school if they let her know in advance, like she’d done before.) But the girl didn’t need her mom to help her with her voice anymore. For she had found it.
The girl used her voice to appeal to the teacher and tell her how important it was she be allowed to read the paper, because it was a very important subject. And because she was adamant, they realized having her write a paper on freedom without allowing her to freely share, was hypocritical, the girl’s wish was granted. Here is what she wrote:
What Freedom Means to Me
Voice. So many times people are scared to talk about sexual assault and if it hashappened to them, but I’m here to say, speak, use your voice. We have it for a reason and I have the freedom to talk.
Freedom is like being blindfolded and being scared to take a step forward, fear hangs above you but when the blindfold falls off, you see a big blue sky, and bright lights smiling upon you. This year I was sexually assaulted by a boy. At first I was scared to tell anyone since I blamed myself for not being stronger. I went into a blanket made of misery. I told my friends eventually, while bawling my eyes out and they assured me none of this was my fault, and they urged me to tell my mom, who I’m very close with. We went into the school and told the story. Of course we came empty handed since “there wasn’t enough proof”’ or “I didn’t look distressed enough” or anything else the school threw at us. I went into a big depression through this whole situation. I tried to kill myself twice, I constantly hurt myself, I felt that I was covered with darkness and would never see the light, but I was very wrong. Now I realize I wasn’t the one to blame for it all, I became stronger through this experience and realized how much this unfortunately this happens to so many girls.
Speak, be loud, scream it! Tell someone and take care of yourself. I still have to see this boy in the halls every-so-often but at least it isn’t as bad as girls who get raped by their boyfriend over and over and have to live with him. I plan to help out people and make sure they talk if they have been sexually assaulted. In the Preamble it states “establish Justice.” This is what I want to happen, for enough proof or some way of him knowing this isn’t okay. The blindfold covers light and happiness until shredded into pieces and finally reveals a beautiful sun rise.
Freedom is giving your voice even if nobody wants to listen. So I encourage anyone that has or is going through something similar to tell and talk and let it all out, to not blame themselves and if the world doesn’t listen, I will.