When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams

This is a book I dust off for a re-read when my heart aches in a very specific way. I devour it in one or two sittings and it consumes how I think and move through the world for weeks after.

It is a book about being a woman (and by extension motherhood and not-motherhood). It's about writing. It's about navigating a high-demand religion (specifically Mormonism). It's about stewardship of the earth and of people. It's about making a difference in ways big and small.

The beginning is arguably the most stunning of any I have read. The first seven pages are a punch to the gut in a way my aching heart recognizes when it feels alone and each time I read this book, it takes my breath away even though I know what is coming. I won't spoil it. Go get your own copy.

While I could write an entire blog post about each one of the themes this book touches on (and I think her chapter on abortion and Roe v. Wade should be required reading by every human being), the theme that stuck out this time was her discussions on finding your voice, and using that voice for good. (That being part of the actual title after all...)

The book begins with her mother's journals and follows Terry Tempest Williams's struggle to understand the meaning of their contents. Journals are often the first way we practice using our voice, and there is sometimes an expectation that they will be passed down and read by our kids and grandkids. Our voices can echo through generations.

As Williams struggles to understand what her mother has left for her, she reflects on her quest for her own voice: as a child, as a student, as a teacher, a wife, a daughter, a granddaughter, a woman. "Each of us has [a voice]. Each voice is distinct and has something to say. Each voice deserves to be heard. But it requires the act of listening."

"What needs to be counted on to have a voice? Courage. Anger. Love. Something to say; someone to speak to; someone to listen."

Part of finding your own voice and learning how to use it is knowing when to stop and listen. The voices around you are valuable in their own right - be they spoken, written, or silent. Given the current political climate in the US, the stories she shared about voices being silenced were particularly poignant and it was both comforting and horrifying to see how things haven't changed.

I love this linking between finding a voice and learning to listen.

Williams has been heavily involved in politics to support the protection of public lands and social justice issues. She tells one story where she testified before Congress on behalf of Utah public lands only to be ignored so blatantly that she called out her Congressman for his behavior. He replied "I'm sorry Ms. Williams, there is something about your voice I cannot hear."

I just can't help but think how many people have been screaming into the void for change over the course of lifetimes only to be told they cannot be heard.

What is it about a black or brown or young or female or LGBTQIA voice that makes it hard to hear, even when screaming?

What good is my voice if I don't learn to listen, also?

Silence is a form of voice too. Williams refers to the "violence of [her] silence" when she makes the choice not to speak out, and the book begins with a silence that covers seven pages. When we speak, and when we don't, are just as important as how loud we are.

We commit violence against one another when we don't use our voice to warn or protect.

We can be powerful in our silence when we choose not to support someone or something harmful.

Knowing when to choose silence over volume is part of finding your voice.

"Finding one's voice is a process of finding one's passion."

I love to read that sentence and think about the different meanings of "passion". It encompasses so much more than just what-you-are-interested-in. It refers to all the passionate feelings that move people to action:

Finding one's voice is a process of finding ones anger.

Finding one's voice is a process of finding ones sorrow.

Finding one's voice is a process of finding ones fear.

Finding one's voice is a process of finding ones joy.

Finding one's voice is a process of finding compassion.

This book eats me alive and leaves me a better person for it.