The Sound of Silence Stopping

I know I took down my shingle a while back and posted my sabbatical notice. But I'm stepping back in to say something important today.

(squinting and tapping the mic)

I almost forgot how bright it is in here. I'm going to crank the volume on this thing today, so brace yourselves. It's important that you all hear this. We need noise. I'm not gonna be silly, either. I gave MissIve the day off.

A Very Good Man invited me to write about the 12for12K Challenge . Every month, for 12 months, they aim to raise $12K for a worthwhile charity. February is dedicated to Stop the Silence, a nonprofit that works with others toward the prevention and treatment of child sexual abuse.

So I sat for some time thinking about what it means to stop the silence. And I thought about the sounds of childhood, and what they should be. And I thought of my own life and how, though it eventually became, well, life, my childhood was idyllic in many ways.


I remember the sound of water running from the hose as I drank from it, the blades on my ice skates cutting across the frozen pond, the pounding army of feet running underground as I pressed my wet ear against the beach sand. Do you know that sound? While the cicadas buzz in the trees overhead and the gulls cry over the crashing waves? But my warmest memories are of stolen sleep in hidden corners of our home, and the sounds that made my eyelids heavy. Fires cracking in the fireplace, my father reading Paddle to the Sea, a Simon & Garfunkel album playing in the background. Now, I watch my sons sleep. And I remember how nice it felt to rest, unburdened by life.

But today, I'm thinking about the children whose memories are built on different sounds, and the horrible silence that follows.

I'm thinking of the children who are afraid of sleep, and the sounds that keep their tired eyelids open, well into the night. The terror that stirs from the squeak of a floorboard. And I'm thinking of all the other things that are stolen from them during those hours, like the sweetness of unburdened sleep.

And I want very badly to tell those children, even if they're grown now, that I wish I had been there to make a sound for them.

And that's why I'm writing today about 12for12K and Stop the Silence.

I know people always say we need to stop the silence. But if you press your ear to those words, you'll hear them say, We are not an idea—We are an action. My fingers, as they type this, stop the silence. One-key-at-a-time, making noise.

Please Make a Noise by Clicking Here right now. Give $10. An action. Not a thought. And DO NOT be deterred if you don't have a PayPal account. I MEAN IT. You've signed up for a Target and an Amazon account. You can push through. DO IT. An action. Not a thought.

It matters that you do. You'll know that you DID something because you'll hear a sound. A click. The Sound of Silence Stopping.


This is one of the sounds I remember drifting off to as a child, on the rug in front of the fire.

Listen to the words. Listen to the sound. Hear how one 'click' can Stop the Silence.





.