When voices are stolen

Imagine that you are a female in her early twenties. You have just spent the last five years of your life working your ass off to earn money to pay for your post-secondary education. You are nearly done (just a couple more weeks), and your degree is going to get you your dream job. Okay, you admit, it won’t earn you a lot of money. You knew that going in but deep in your heart, you are convinced that this is what you were born for. You have just finished creating a 100-page thesis on how you can accomplish your future job and impact the world — at least a small corner of it. Yes, you are still young and a bit idealistic, but you truly believe that it will be worth it despite that rough career ahead because you really will change the world.

You will need to look for a job soon. After all, graduation is just around the corner. You wander to the bulletin board near the mailroom and do a quick scan. Ah, there’s one job posting for you. You look under the ‘must have’ list, reading it quietly to yourself. “Must have a penis,” you read. Wait, what?! That can’t be right. You reread it. “Must have a penis,” it reads. You read it a third time, knowing that this is not the kind of thing people can just put on job postings, let alone the top thing. Nope, it is there, right out there in black and white. You scan the rest of the criteria; basically, you meet all of the requirements. But something sticks out to you. Under the “nice to have” section is the degree that you have worked your ass off to get. The very thing that has trained you to do the job is only “nice to have,” but the penis is apparently integral.

What happened to “people wanted?” — Photo by Jen Theodore on Unsplash

At this point, the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your legs feel numb. Uncertain if you can hold yourself up, you lean against the brick wall. You feel incredibly sick to your stomach. Your whole body feels tense. Your chest is constricting, and at that moment, you are not sure if you want to throw up or break something. There is a rage building up in you. But really, you know the anger is just a symptom of the agony inside. You feel a sharp pain — it’s as if someone has stabbed you in the gut.

Your shoulders slump forward, and your head hangs in disgrace. “I should have just put my money towards a sex change, for all the good it did me,” you think bitterly. “They care more about me having a dick than being qualified to do a job.” You turn to walk away. Never before have you felt this way. Sure there were times when you felt like being a female was tough or more unpleasant than being a guy. But now, you feel like it is actually a bad thing to be female — that you are bad. You turn away in shame and shuffle down the hall, feeling utterly defeated.

Photo by Muhammad Faiz Zulkeflee on Unsplash

This was my experience in my final year of college. They may have worded the phrase “must have a penis” differently, but they made it utterly clear that they would only consider a male for the role — and I can assure you that this job was not for a semen donor. Yet, because I had a vagina and not a penis, I wouldn’t even be considered for the role, despite the amazing job I could have done.

When I think back on this experience, it still makes me feel sick to my stomach and angry. Although I completed my degree, I never got a job in the field because I realized I would have to live my whole life proving to the people I worked for that I was worthy and capable. I would have to spend my time fighting against what I felt was an immovable wall instead of helping those trapped beyond it. I was young, and I felt so small just imagining going up against such an organization. This didn’t just take away my voice — they took away my opportunity to make a difference in the world. It rendered me helpless and unimportant. It made me less than my male counterparts. It took a while for me to realize it, but the more “job opportunities” I viewed, the stronger the pattern appeared. I became more convinced that there was no place for me.

When life boards you out, breaking through seems impossible. — Photo by Ricky Singh on Unsplash

My story is not unique, unfortunately. I’ve heard many stories about people being devalued because they are part of a minority. This is problematic for several reasons. The first is the shame that is projected onto people. Nobody chooses their race, sex, culture, orientation, or background, yet they are told they are somehow less of a person because of it. This is so blatantly wrong I don’t even know where to begin. When we silence people’s voices, we are not only dehumanizing them; we are actively harming the world that we are all apart of. We not only violate their humanity, but we also do it to ourselves as well. We make ourselves smaller when we prevent others from using their unique strengths, experiences, beliefs, and perspectives to make our world a better place.

Photo by Micheile Henderson on Unsplash

I am still trying to make the world a more beautiful place despite my experiences, but there are so many people that just give up. And I get it. I get why. Why would someone continue to fight for the chance to help when they are constantly ignored, devalued, and shamed? When someone’s voice is snuffed out long enough, they begin to believe the lies society told them — that they have nothing to offer; that they are nothing.

Fighting for equal rights is a good and necessary first step, but unfortunately, our world needs more from us. We need to address why we have walled others out. We can’t just improve the statistics and make things ‘technically better’. We need to understand the source of what led us there— and that source is us, our hearts. We don’t want people to simply tolerate others. We need to create a world where we value and celebrate what others have to offer. I believe everyone has something they can offer our world, and it breaks my heart to think of how much better and beautiful our world would be if we had only built open doors, instead of putting up walls.

Let’s open the doors.— Photo by Philipp Berndt on Unsplash

It’s not too late to change. I believe we can turn our world into something more beautiful than anyone could ever imagine if we made a conscious effort to examine our hearts and open them up to what is unknown. It won’t be easy or even comfortable, but it would change humanity's course for the better. We are all in this world together. We need each other, not just those like us. We all have value, and we all have something to contribute. Let’s open the doors. Let all our voices be heard.