It was the early 70’s when my mom became a whistleblower. In her position as bookkeeper, she saw some things that she considered questionable. After a period of close inspection, she discovered her boss was complicit in the mishandling of funds. She took her complaint to the regional office. Her boss was reassigned in another state. She lost her job.
Years later when I was in a similar situation I went to my mom for counsel. Leave it alone, she said. Silence.
My husband has named my side of the family the Loud Family. Yes, our volume often exceeds acceptable levels but we aren’t just loud with volume.
We are a family of women who, at times to our detriment, speak up and speak out.
There was another time when the outcome of my aunt raising her voice changed the course of events for the better.
It was early November, with an expected 6 weeks to go before giving birth to our first child, who was due at the end of December. My aunt took one look at my swollen belly and said, “You’re not going to make it to December.”
I shared that information with my doctor. Because we gave action to our voices I was prepared for the November 18th arrival of a full term, healthy girl.
Raising our voices seems to be the default mode in women in my family. We’ve raised them in the pulpit and the carpool. But that hasn’t been the history of women in general.
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Living In Graceland 