I grew up in a generation whose parents were raised on the principle that children should be seen and not heard. That principle wasn’t strongly applied in our family, but neither were we seen as individuals with real ideas of our own – we were just ‘the kids’.

Added to that, mine was a conservative Christian family whose social life revolved around church on Sundays and attending other events connected with the church community, many of which were lots of fun - like the church camps, the social dinners, and the dances in the hall. But the dominant – often only – voices of authority were male, and I grew up trusting the words of men and believing that men had the right way of looking at the world.

Fast forward 40 years. In the six years it took me to complete an honours degree in theology I noticed that very few women theologians were among the recommended reading for the subjects I undertook. On my bookshelf, 100% of the theological writers were men. The words of women were only read in snippets, and often confined to the realms of feminist or liberation theology. Women’s voices were rarely heard in the mainstream.

On a personal level, words have been used against me, to silence me by questioning the validity of what I’m saying:

“What are you banging on about?”

“You are so strident!”

“Bronwyn, be quiet!”

Although I am a person of words, and a wordsmith, I have at times felt uncertain about speaking my truth out of concern for the sensibilities of others. There has been a subtle fear that my thoughts and words are of no value, no matter how loudly I say them. In varying relationships, men have attempted to silence me by telling me what and when I could share details of my life or my interpretation of events. And, in the past, I have complied because confrontation is not something I find easy to do and from which, like many people, I shy away.

While silence may be golden, as the old saying goes, if it used as a space for reflection, or used to foster innovation and the development of new ideas, and beautiful when it is a space inhabited by both men and women, silence is truly only golden if it is a place of freedom and not of confinement.

It takes courage to speak up when our voices are small or have been silenced for a long time.

And it takes practice. And a safe place to start.