On April 21, 2017, I participated in an event called the Day of Silence, organized by an association called GLSEN that supports the LGBTQ+ community within schools. Their goal is to create a safer environment for LGBTQ youth in American schools. The Day of Silence is in honor of LGBTQ youths who have been silenced due to bullying and discrimination, so in the fight against the hate, students rise up and spend the day in silence. That means no talking, no sound and no voice. My friends and I decided to take up the challenge in order to show our support for anti-bullying for LGBTQ kids.
The experience was alarming.
My silence began once I reached the bus stop. My friend and I rode the bus in silence. It was not as bad as I thought it would be, but then again, I was listening to music so I was occupied. The struggle began once we reached school. We ran into a couple of our other friends who were not taking the vow, and communicating was difficult to say the least. It was almost impossible. Only yes or no questions could be asked, and if something really needed to be answered, I would have to text that person. It seemed almost too silly at first, but as the day dragged on, I realized how hard it must be for people who were bullied and could not speak up about that.
For most of my class periods, I had to communicate through the Apple Notes app to ask my classmate to say "present" while the teacher took attendance. At one point, I had to use the washroom during class, but was unable to since I couldn't speak. It would've been to awkward if I had typed it out on the phone or got someone else to ask for me. The communication gap made me realize how dependent I was on the people around me, and it only made me think that at least I had these people to help me. People who were truly bullied due to their sexuality had no one to depend on but themselves.
When I was eating during lunch with my friends, my friends would try and provoke me to try and get me to talk. They would tease me to try to get me angry so I would yell at them. I have to say it almost worked. When I left the cafeteria for a few minutes, my friends took my phone and spammed it with pictures so that when I found them, I would tell them to stop. It was exhausting. It took everything in me to not say a comeback or a joke or join a conversation about K-Pop.
But more than anything, it was lonely and tiring.
I had to sit quietly and just listen to everyone. I had to listen to what everyone had to say, what they were feeling, what plans they had for the weekend, while I sat there, without a word. I wanted to talk so badly, but I couldn't. When I was in literature class, we went to see a play. It was by far the best play our school had put on, and when it was over, everyone was talking about it. Everyone except me. I wanted to talk about it, talk in excitement about the twists and funny parts. But I couldn't, because all I could do was listen to what others had to say. Even though I was with my friends, I still felt lonely, because I couldn't talk to anyone and no one had that much to say to me since I was unable to talk.
Is this what it felt like? To have no one to talk to just because you were a little different?
By the time it was 6th period, I was at my wits end. All I wanted to do was talk, but I could not. I would not. Not when this was something that thousands of kids around the world went through everyday. I would not give up this easily. We were supposed to work in groups, but I had no choice but to work alone. I was mentally done, so I plugged my headphones into my ears. My music was the only thing that would make the time pass by quickly. And finally, the next time I checked the clock, it was 3:27 PM. Three more minutes. They were the longest minutes of my life. When the bell rang, I don't think I had ever been so happy to open my mouth and hear the glorious sound of my voice.
I made my way to the bus and plopped down next to my friend who had done this silent challenge with me. We talked (more like complained) about everything that had happened that day, all the struggle and obstacles we were forced to endure, but it was over, and we had survived. But other kids in the LGBTQ+ community are still surviving in silence. It's up to us help them — to take part in protecting the LGBTQ youth from bullying. It's another stand against LGBTQ discrimination.
Let the silence end. Let's use our voices for those who have been silenced.
Because if not now, then when?
Want to help stop bullying against LGBTQ+ youths in your local schools? Check out GLSEN's annual Silent Day website for more information.