Warning: This post discusses sensitive issues that may be an emotional trigger for some women.
I HATED WRITING THIS POST!!! I hated writing this post for soooo many reasons! My reasons for disliking this post are as follows: I had persistent doubts that folks wouldn’t be able to hear my heart and understand the critical point I was trying to make, I really dislike controversy and hated the idea of opening myself to attack regarding some of the subject matter but my primary reason is that it touches upon areas that are so very sensitive to some and can trigger emotional turmoil for others.
The title of this post is sure a strange one…don’t you think? As individuals the color of our voices matters greatly because it’s a reflection of our beliefs, our opinions, our desires, our thoughts, and our innermost aspirations. Our voices can either be bright, vivid, crisp, and unmistakable or they can be dreary, anemic, or faded. If our colors are pale, muted, dull, or indistinct it causes one to wonder if our voices were so subdued because we’ve lost them, or worst yet, were never able to truly find our voice.
As professional business owners the color of our voices matter since it speaks volumes of our ability to conduct ourselves confidently and with integrity in a competitive and, recently up and coming industry.
Will our own personal voices be what dictates our goals or will the voices that clamor for our attention be what directs the course and direction of our decisions?
Can I be trusted to hear the voices of fear, pain, frustration, disappointment, or indignation of my clients as we work our way through their hopes and expectations?
Can my clients rely upon my unwavering commitment to my standards, goals, and vision to undergird them throughout their journey? In this context I want the color of my voice to be clear, vibrant, pure, bright, and true. If I had to give a color to this striking voice it would have to be WHITE!
As a childbirth educator, birth and postpartum doula, and soon to be, sleep educator, I find myself much more poised to listen to the color of my voice simply because…
I am being entrusted with someone’s dreams…
goals are being shared with me in the hopes that expectant couples/postpartum families will be better equipped to reach them…
and I am being delegated as a sherpa, if you will, to help guide families as they navigate their way through important decisions.
Will I be faithful in my role, as such, or will the color of my voice be drowned out among all the others vying for the attention of my clients?
There was a time in my life that I had no idea I had a voice, much less whether that voice mattered. As the youngest of nine children my voice was too young to be of much consequence and you had so many other voices competing for attention that mine chimed in at barely a whisper. I was raised in a single parent home and the old adage, “The squeaky wheel gets the grease,” proved itself true in our home. However, as an avid reader I soon found my voice in the academic arena and was able to prove myself as one worthy of attention. I excelled in my schooling and kept my head low but during all of my growing years this was the only area in which I felt comfortable using my voice, albeit, faintly.
Our home, like that of any other large family, was a busy one. Mom worked endlessly to support all of us and while some of us were busy with school others ran the streets of the Bronx, where we grew up. As I said earlier, I had a more academic bent so that’s where my efforts went while those of my siblings went in every direction from deliquency to sports and from truancy to illegal drug use. Unfortunately for most of my older siblings, before my parents separated, they had spent many years living in the same house as my violent and alcoholic father, whose voice could be called nothing but RED! RED WITH ANGER, RED WITH DRUNKEN RAGES, RED WITH ABUSE AND RED WITH BRUTALITY. After too many years of my mother and siblings suffering at the hands of my father, my oldest brother found the color of his voice by fighting back, literally, or running away. He lived on the streets for months at a time to get away from our home. After years of looking out for her younger siblings my oldest sister established her commanding voice that, to this day, all of us give due respect to. She cooked for us, kept house for us, changed many a diaper for us, and looked out for every last one of us and HEAVEN help any of us who decided to buck her.
Regrettably, our home was touched by that evil vice of molestation that seems so prevalent these days. Some were scarred for life by those in and outside of our home. And not only did we not have a voice but those who should/could have heard our voices chose to not hear. I don’t bring this up to cast guilt upon others…they’re well aware of what they are. But I raise the issue to, hopefully, lift the banner of awareness that can help others find their voices in a wicked world. I am one who advocates for having the uncomfortable conversations with our children about those who will seek do them harm. I’ve had the dreaded and awkward discussions with my children in the hopes that they will not fall prey to the vermin that are all around us. In the midst of those somewhat tense moments and embarrassing silences I am hopeful that If I teach them how to use their voices and promise that I will LISTEN to those voices, I will, prayerfully, keep such evil at bay. Growing up in a family where you risked a beating of the severest kind should you speak “out of turn” I certainly don’t want my children to fear that their voices will be trampled, or, perhaps, worst yet, IGNORED!
As a young married woman of barely 22, with one child and another on the way. I soon found myself in a very interesting position. My husband and I were hired to be houseparents in a maternity home in Philadelphia where we were now responsible for anywhere from 4 – 9 pregnant women, some older than we were. I was forced into a position of advising, supporting, advocating, and counseling with these women and, by virtue of it being utilized more, my voice became a little more practiced and colored.
Understand that just a couple of years prior to taking this position my voice was barely audible. I was hardly 21 and just about to deliver our first baby. After 4 nights of prodromal labor my body finally kicked into active labor and was in the hospital ready to deliver our 8 lb 9 oz. son when the doctor performed a full episiotomy, which I was not made aware, nor, obviously, gave consent to. Furthermore, he also decided to employ the use of forceps, which, according to my husband, in the course of utilizing, drug my bottom down the hospital bed. My son was born with multiple bruises on his face, forehead, and temples while I was left without the proper use of my personal parts for weeks afterward.
In the capacity of my role as a houseparent I interacted with our many volunteers one of which I will call, Vivian, whose voice, if I had to choose a color, I would say it was BLACK. She was tall, beautiful, elegant, and stylish..all of the things I was not. Vivian worked for the Philadelphia Department of Social Services in a supervisory position and when being told that one of our young pregnant mamas was being denied benefits she was clearly eligible for, the voice of Vivian clearly showed itself as the black it could easily become. In her own words, Vivian confronted the lazy, incompetent, and unprofessional intake worker that we had been butting heads with and was “livid.” That was the first time I realized that livid could be classy, competent, and capable, all of which I admired her for. Needless to say that situation was soon resolved.
In my business I want to be known as exceptional, professional, compassionate, and honest. I am a stay at home mom but I am also a momprenuer, a woman of industry, and a highly trained maternal expert, and I want my clients to see me as such. How I conduct my business, those whom I serve, the manner in which I serve them, my demeanor with other health care providers and professional acquaintances, etc are all a reflection of THE COLOR OF MY VOICE. As I work with expectant families I want to convey to them the importance of finding the color of their own voices. I want to impart them with the confidence whereby they can say, “Never mind the voices that clamor around us…this is the course of action for us!” I would consider my job as having been done well if, while informing themselves of the multiple choices around them, they can disregard the urging of others as they forge their own path. As we explore the options of health care providers, birth facilities, breastfeeding, pain management, vaccines, circumcision, comfort measures, etc, it is my hope to convey to my CLIENTS THAT THEIR VOICES ARE WORTHY OF BEING RAISED AND HEARD! This is what can be accomplished by the power of using our collective voices. Will we end all of the injustices we’ve seen in the world of birth? Absolutely not. But, perhaps we can see a few less moms railroaded into a C-section, maybe we can decrease the number of forced repeat C-sections, possibly increase the number of VBACs, reduce the amount of high intervention births, or help a few clients have a fully satisfying birth experience.
Let me leave you with a final note. I am a Christian, homeschooling, conservative mom of 13, who became comfortable heeding the color of my own voice to the point of being able to have 8 home births, 7 of which were unattended. I don’t make a huge point of drawing attention to this fact but it is what I am. As I have grown accustomed to the color of my voice and have taught my children to learn to identify their own voices, they have become self-assured individuals with their own goals and dreams. My oldest son, 27, is married, owns his home, has 2 lovely children and became a self-employed contractor by the age of 18. He began working full-time at the age of 15 while completing his home education in the evenings. My next son, 24, is also married, worked outside the home since the age of 16 while finishing high school, and by exhibiting the financial discipline of few I know, was able to put a $30,000 deposit on his first home and is doubling his monthly mortgage payments in the hopes of paying his 30 year mortgage in less than ten. My third son, 21, is pursuing his dream of developing his skills in video and sound production by interning at an Arizona based ministry where they encourage making a powerful and positive impact on society. My daughters, 21 and 17, are still at home following their interests, one pursuing her Master Herbalist Certification and working part-time, and the other developing an online business selling homemade health products (soaps, salves, lip balms, etc). I have an 18 year old son that is working full time as a carpenter while completing his GED and is a volunteer at the local fire department. He is also a self-taught mechanic who, helps to keep our family’s six vehicles in good working order along with all of our outdoor power equipment and he also takes on outside work of the same. With his carpentry training he can basically build a house from ground up with the help of his older brothers who all excel in their carpentry abilities. Why am I bringing all of this up? Yes, I am a proud mama to an amazing crew of kiddos but that’s not why I bring it up. I bring it up because it speaks to the idea of what children can accomplish if they learn to value their voices…if they’re given the space in which to exercise their voices…if they’re given choices and are made to realize the choices they make matter…if they’re instilled with the confidence to be the champion of their own voices.
In closing, let me leave you with one of my favorite passages of Scripture. As I walk this path living life before my family, friends, clients, associates, and professional acquaintances this has become my motto and battle cry. I can do no other!
“He hath shown thee , O man, what is good: and what does the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly before thy God?” Micah 6:8
