The Voices of My Sisters
I can hear the voices of my sisters. Voices from places I have only imagined, but have never been. My sisters are black, brown and white. They are tall, short, strong and passionate. They are questioning. They are the truth tellers. They share the raw story. They do not filter for political correctness. They do not second guess sharing because of business relationships. They speak the words. I hear for the first time through Web 2.0
My sister’s voices are sometimes soft as they speak of heroes. They speak of the strength and beauty of souls that have sacrificed to uplift the people they believe in. They tell stories of sacrificed time for education of their children. Some tell stories of lives sacrificed in hopes of bringing a better life for future generations.
Sometimes their voices are full of questions. Questions that plague the human soul. How does injustice and peace cohabitate? How can some prosper while others basic needs go unmet? How can violence go unchallenged; why does suffering continue in civilized societies? Can we still be judging people by the color of their skin rather than the content of their character?
Sometimes my sister’s voices rage like a loin. They speak out for the weak child who has her eyes plucked out for monetary gain. Through their stories I get to know the girls forced to offer the precious gift of love to men that offer no respect or care in return. I weep as I hear of the miss-treated mentally ill prisoner hung as the guards watched. I can hear their voices rise in righteous anger.
I have never met them – these women that live in my world. They do not ask anything of me except to hear them. But, these questions challenge me. Challenge me to think, give, and face what is sometimes unimaginable.
I have found a community where we can finally speak uncensored. Web 2.0 brings these previously unheard voices to my ears. I am thankful for the medium that allows me to hear - to hear for the first time the voices of my sisters.