Speaking of Speaking

I stood alone last Saturday night,
alone in a crowd on the second floor of a retired Cigar Factory on 19th and Palm and listened to my first "speaking" session.
I walked in at close to the end, but just in time to hear the talent flow.
I realized just then, I HAVE NEVER SPOKEN BEFORE!
I have gone through my adult life and have never spoken before...

I whisper, I yell, I rage, I cry, I beg, and I apologize but I have never spoken.
I have been spoken to, spoken at, preached to, preached at,
and my responses have always been muted attempts at reconciliation,
at passivity, at please don't stress me out more than I already am; PLEASE!

Just hours before I stood in my own home, and held quiet while I was spoken to.
When I tried to speak, I was told to be calm, that I had no reason to get angry,
that this was just routine follow up to a report that someone made about my life,
that affected MY LIFE in ways that aren't pretty, that isn't nice, that wouldn't make me feel calm...
and my response was whispers, and diplomatic words, and ac·qui·escing to ones who held the power over me...
and I WANTED TO SPEAK! I WANTED TO YELL! I still want to, I AM STILL ANGRY!

but it has occurred to me in the still of this morning,
that if I had the opportunity to SPEAK, and I actually SPOKE,
I might never ever try to speak again.

dahlia holmes-scurry
3:36 am and still angry, and still crying, and still scared... on March 19, 2007