Sometimes when we’re faced with difficult circumstances, we shrink back. That’s only natural. We get scared, we get hesitant, we doubt ourselves, and we don’t believe that we can actually make a difference. So we don’t. At least not right away.
I think in tough times, finding our voices can be a challenge. Sometimes we feel silenced by others. Sometimes we’re unsure if we’re saying the right thing. Sometimes we have a perspective that isn’t appreciated by others, and so we hold ourselves back from saying how we truly feel. Sometimes we just feel insignificant, so we don’t say anything at all.
I’m guilty of this. I think we all are, in some ways. But I’ve always envied those who boldly stood behind their beliefs and rallied others around them. I’ve always been envious of those who raised their voices, for the right reasons, and started to make change.
This morning, I was thinking about this—thinking about what I could do, how I could possibly make a difference. Sometimes I feel so damn small. I’m just one person, what can I actually do? But that’s a defeatist mindset. That’s stopping myself before I even start.
And that’s not the kind of person I want to be.
But as I was sitting there questioning myself, I realized something. One person, one thought, one action—one—can make a difference.
Yes, I might be just one tiny person, but I have a voice. And that voice can be loud. And that voice can join with other voices. And all those voices coming together can be a chorus, a chorus that drowns out negativity and brings hope from pain.
So I started thinking about the small ways I could start. I could write. I could keep writing. I could pour my words onto the page in support of others, in support of kindness, in support of prayer and faith and strength. And maybe that won’t do a damn thing in the big scheme of the world, but it’s a start, right?
Because my words could touch someone, who could touch someone else, who could be inspired to write, or create, or sign a petition, or join a protest, or speak out, or share a poem, or write an essay, or begin a movement that is far greater than anything I could have imagined.
And soon people will be sharing and growing and coming together and fighting for the same things—all from one little action.
As I write that, though, I feel conceited. Do I really think my words can change the world? That what I have to say is that damn important? No. I don’t think that I can change the world. But I can put a slice of positivity into the world, a pinch of deep thoughts, a tiny bit of confessional, heart-filled poetry that I feel strongly about, in hopes that it can touch one person. Just one person. Who maybe reaches out to another. And another. And then maybe, we can begin to come together.
And learn. And grow. And fight.
This whole idea made me think about creators—writers, artists, poets, painters, sculptors, essayists, musicians, comedians, actors/actresses etc.—so many people who devote their life to their craft and fully believe in it.
It is us creators that hold power right now, power to make a difference.
Maybe not massive differences. Maybe we can’t change election results or shift the perspectives in people’s heads. Maybe we can’t alter predisposed mindsets or fully remove biased, racist, homophobic, etc. beliefs.
But as creators, we are the ones who can touch hearts and souls. And we can be the start of something big.
So I believe in creators. I believe in late nights and early mornings, pouring words onto pages or paint onto canvases. I believe in melodies that ache with pain. I believe in people who use art to communicate. And who believe in, and want to fight for a better world.
I believe in creators, and our ability to make change, to love, to support, to empower one another. I believe that we may be small, but we’re the hope this world needs right now.
I believe that our art, our words matter.
And so we must express them, now more than ever.