Voiceless

Last month, I wrote about the background of Day of Silence. This month, I’m back to tell you about the emotional effects of DOS, and my personal experience with the LGBTQ+ awareness holiday.

I arrived at school early on April 27th full of giddy anticipation. My lips were sealed, my heart was pumping, and I knew I would not be disappointed. My fellow participants and I met at a picnic bench near the school gate where we read each others’ lips in our best approximation of a normal conversation. We set up several jars for money and displayed our rainbow pins before selling them until the bell rang.

During advisory, my teacher explained DOS to our class. The only problem anyone seemed to have with it were some girls who complained about the participant limit. It’s been said before, and we’ll say it again (although I couldn’t at the time), this year, DOS is being tried for the first time at GALA. This was an experiment, and anyway, you will probably at least need some connection to the Spectrum Club to join in DOS in the future. Those people were soon shouted out of the discussion by my other classmates, however, and we all knew they had been doing it for the sake of disturbance.

I went through the rest of my day rather uneventfully, and in one way, not talking proved to be easier than expected: When we had a class discussion, I had only to sit back and look mildly interested. Now, that was nice.

At the end of the day I was working on a project on a Chromebook and was distracted when someone came up behind me and said, “Hey, Nusia, look at this!” Being a polite person, I turned around and replied, “What is it?” and was met with the most crushing feeling of utter failure. Now, I would have been able to forgive myself because we’re programmed to respond in this manner, and this was the first time I ever wasn’t suppposed to.  It was difficult, I understood that. But the person who had called me out, whose fault this was, pointed and laughed and made me feel terrible. If any of your friends ever join DOS, please, please, excuse them a few accidental replies. They are suppressing reflexes. It’s really hard.

At the end of the day I ran a meditation center at the Zen Fair. The silence was supposed to have been broken at Wellness, but because the hosts of the event were setting up, the Day of Silence participants still couldn’t talk. I was supposed to be giving a meditation lesson, and had become very stressed about how the booth would work. However, everyone who came in understood, and eventually a helpful substitute stepped in and led a breathing circle.

After school my fellow DOSers and I gathered on the field. We gathered in a circle and released the first sound of the day: a scream. Now, this was totally unplanned. One participant suggested it, and as we were all slightly hysterical, we agreed. That scream was the most desperate, frenzied noise I had ever made. I was stressed and I let it out. And it felt AMAZING.

I’m still a bit on edge from the whole ordeal. But it was totally, completely, a hundred percent an amazing experience. Everyone, everyone, should do this. I reached a level of understanding you can’t achieve without completely erasing your self-expression up to a certain level. I want all people to feel how I felt. You will understand so much more once you have done it.

By: Nusia Schoenholz, 2024 – Political Writer

Photo credit: Nusia Schoenholz