A Quiet Roar Can Change History
The above quotation comes from a children’s book by Marilyn Nelson, published in 2020 under the title Lubaya’s Quiet Roar.
When I first heard her read the poem on the On Being podcast, I was on my way to work.
Something in it spoke to me deeply.
I think it was because the main character is . . .
A girl
An introvert
Not much interested in competition
Someone who likes to withdraw from the world (behind a recliner) and draw
I don’t draw, but like the character Marilyn Nelson created for this story, I crave time away from all the action. I am nourished by reflection. I need woods, rivers, lakes, and quiet—long, open stretches of unscheduled time.
At many points in my life, I’ve told myself these are not needs, just preferences—extravagant desires in light of the suffering of others.
Shouldn’t I be on the streets protesting?
Shouldn’t I be able to work harder and longer?
Shouldn’t I spend more time on productive, intellectual, political knowledge-gathering instead of listening to poets and “woo-woo” spiritual teachers?
I (and others) could certainly make compelling arguments that I should be.
And yet . . .
I have learned that when I do not follow my own soul’s path, I end up parched and depressed, critical and whiny—angry from the inside out.
That little girl in me, the one who needs to sit behind the recliner and hear the news only in snippets, starts to roar for sure—but not the kind of roar that changes history. Instead, it’s the kind that wounds herself and those around her. Because she is starving for her soul’s food.
When I refuse to follow what my soul needs, my roar becomes destructive.
I think the thing that brought tears to my eyes—every time I listened to this poem (three times in a row between home and work that morning)—was the incredible honoring of this little girl, just as she is.
The freedom given to her to be quiet, reflective, and female—and to have those qualities recognized as strength rather than weakness.
Not better.
Not worse.
Just different.
A quiet roar can change history.
So can a loud one.
Whichever kind of roar is yours, I hope you feel in these words an affirmation that your way is your way. It just is.
I hope you will feel the freedom to nourish your soul in the way it longs to be fed
Whether that’s moving meditation, even when those around you say sitting quietly is the only way.
Or sitting quietly while those around you march.
This is how we THRIVE for equity, Amazing Ones. The only way we can—as ourselves.
Here’s to thriving and equity, kindness and courage.
WANT MORE COURAGE AND JOY?
🎙️ Listen & Reflect:
If you want to hear an interview with Marilyn Nelson, check out this On Being episode. You can also listen to her read a few of her other poems here.
🔥 Courage in Action:
Dr. Christine Blasey Ford was someone who would have preferred to keep her roar quiet, but Life called on her to step forward with incredible courage—to bring that quiet roar out from behind the recliner. We must be ourselves. And we must be brave, too. She has now published a memoir, One Way Back.
📖 Words that Speak to the Soul:
I recently spotted the tiny book Courage Doesn’t Always Roar by Maryanne Radmacher on a friend’s bookshelf. I was so drawn to the title that she let me borrow it. It’s full of beauty and thoughtful definitions of courage. One of my favorites, in the context of this moment, is:
“Courage dressing in intentional change is the most ferocious response to fear.”