Giving a Voice to My Ignored Words and Hidden Talents

Recently, I was on Zoom for one of my creative writing classes (sorry to bring up the dreaded program that we have dealt with too much lately). As many humanities and social science majors will know, a lot of class time is dedicated to discussion.

I remember we were discussing someone’s poem and I knew I had the perfect comment that would add to the critique that someone earlier had mentioned. When I finally mustered the courage to press my spacebar and unmute, I was cut off by another voice. I receded back into silence. When I got the opportunity to share a thought without interruption, it was later attributed to someone else in the class. I could’ve unmuted once more to correct the person, but is it really worth the effort? Wouldn’t doing something like that make me look like I was full of myself?

It got me thinking-- this happened even before COVID. There were times when I said something and it stood out to people, but then they’d always forget who said it (keep in mind, I’m usually in classes with fifteen people or less). Most of the time, I just shrugged it off and headed to the library to meet up with friends afterwards, attributing the mishap to the fact that it’s common to forget people’s names when each person is hellbent on sharing what’s on their mind. Some days though, it gets me a bit frustrated because clearly, my thoughts count for something, but my identity beyond the thought belongs to oblivion.

While I’ve never talked about these emotions directly with anyone, I can’t help but feel that there are many of you who feel the same. You walk around, make a funny joke, only for it to be overlooked-- or maybe you work on the entirety of the group project only for the other “members” on your team to say “great job” to each other and not to you. 

I remember the feeling getting even more intense when I graduated high school: one of the proudest moments of my life because I graduated as the Valedictorian of my class. 4.86 GPA, despite dealing with a personal tragedy my freshman year, moving away from my childhood home, and working at a small boutique through most of high school. While I got so many “congratulations” and warm wishes from friends and family, it is the hurtful comments that stick with me the most.

“Wow! Congrats… I didn’t even know you existed though! No offense or anything, I just thought that maybe since we went to a small high school that I would at least know you.”

“Who’s the Valedictorian…? Her…? I don’t even know her name.”

“Of course she got Valedictorian-- all she does is study!”

I’m dead serious-- these are some of the comments I received moments before I gave my speech. It was a bit heartbreaking in all honesty because it detracted from all the support and admiration I had from people like my best friends and even some of the classmates that had taken the time to get to know me. All my hard work, pride, and dedication despite my trials and tribulations fought with the petty backhanded compliments as I threw my cap into the air. 

As a culture, if we’re not downplaying our own successes and accomplishments, we’re often degrading the achievements of others. Look to the social media pages of upcoming artists and small businesses, as we call them “one-hit wonders” or “fads that will soon fade out.” We’re forgetting that these are people who had to overcome so many struggles to finally express their joys and passions freely. Many of those who are putting themselves out there probably went through long periods of time where they debated in even sharing their passion projects with the world. Our harsh words have the potential to put them back in a place where they refuse to share their potential ever again.

In hopes that I can better help others and myself understand more about how our thoughts are important, I am reminding myself to be conscientious of the fact that many people are at different points in their journeys with their self-esteem and comfort with self-expression.

Proudly, I would say in the past few months I have gotten so much better at sharing my opinions with people. I’m relishing in the fact that so many friends I’ve made recently are noticing that I’m coming out of my turtle shell. I’m shedding my reservations because I’m realizing that they no longer serve me, but I’m equally encouraging those who are still shy that they should move at their own pace. I’m telling people about pieces that I’ve recently published, and I’m no longer holding back on reposting my poems onto my Instagram story. On the days when the negative threatens to make me small, I don’t let it deter me from admiring the progress I’ve made.

Yes, we live in an expanding universe, but in reality, we don’t interact with the entire universe all at once. Our experience is confined to our world, which is big and overwhelming in its own right. It makes sense as to why sharing our feelings, our thoughts, and our identities are so hard-- we feel as if the whole world is watching. However, we can take smaller steps before jumping into the big pool of sharing our stories on Twitter, such as facilitating a positive conversation with someone who is excited about our success and happiness. Let’s acknowledge the days that were hard to get through in a way that makes our achievements glow even more than they would have if it was handed over easily.

For far too long, our world has been dead set on indulging too heavily into modesty that we have gotten to a point that we associate our ambitions with the deadly sin of pride. While humility is certainly admirable and appreciated, we have the power to be humble and open up about our skills. In fact, real humility isn’t hiding our talents like it’s a curse, but rather discussing them with others in hopes meaningful interactions take place. 

If you’re going to take anything from my honest and raw ramblings, may it be this: Do not be afraid of gradually growing into confidence because even though we’re in a big pond, there’s room for us all to take our place.