I thought it was my original idea. I was going to propose the idea here on this page. But I’m too late.
Turns out I’m wrong. Nine years ago, Maria Pulzette, then an 18-year-old freshman at the University of Virginia, called for a Day of Silence, an idea that emerged out of a paper she wrote on nonviolent protesting and grass-roots organizing.
The first year, 1995, more than 150 students participated. It went nationwide in 1997, and was renamed the National Day of Silence. By 2001, colleges, universities, high schools and middle schools had become involved, especially after the Gay and Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) became the official sponsor. The 2004 observance is set for Wednesday, April 21.
Having a “national day” lends an air of gravitas to the issue. Thus we have serious national days like National Day of Prayer and Repentance, National Day of Appreciation for Abortion Providers, National Day of Reason, National Day of Food Collection, National Day of Protest, National Day of Hope, National Day of Reconciliation and many more.
Of course, a lot of national days are goofy. National Monocle Day. National “Talk-Like-a-Pirate” Day. National Ice Cream and Violins Day. National Bathrobe Day.
The GLSEN National Day of Silence doesn’t past the smell test. This is not a real day of silence. Instead, it’s a real day of shouting. For example, high schoolers and middle schoolers who participate in April will carry with them a card that they will hand out to people to explain their silence. It reads, in part: Please understand my reasons for not speaking today. I am participating in the Day of Silence, a national youth movement protesting the silence faced by lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and their allies. My deliberate silence echoes that silence, which is caused by harassment, prejudice and discrimination.
At the end of the day, there are “Break the Silence” activities to “celebrate their accomplishments.”
Fine. But this is not a true day of silence. This is just another device to shout, complain, whine and express discontent.
And, of course, it invites a discontented response. Soon as GLSEN announces their National Day of Silence, Focus on the Family chimes in with a list of talking points condemning the whole thing.
The noise industry in this country is running full tilt. The fever of frustration is spreading like an übervirus on speed. The chattering classes are now so abrasively sensitive, that they can get a flash mob on the streets within two hours to chant, march, carry signs and banners and sing a groaning rendition of “We shall overcome.” Give him four hours and Jesse Jackson, the national apparatchik of protest, will materialize to flog an apparent injustice with an uninformed opinion. We shall overcome, indeed.
Tell you what. I am overcome. Tired of the national noisy-ness. Tired of the blame-storming. Tired of Rush Limbaugh. Tired of Fox Network. Tired of the O’Reilly/Franken brattitude. Tired of hyperbolic political rhetoric. (Incidentally, say what you will about the California recall last fall, I think we should adopt it as national model: Outlaw campaigning until 30 days before the election and then let them go at it, and be done with it.)
We need a true National Day of Silence; you stop, catch your breath, up yer dosage, meditate and medicate, sit down, shut up and cut the crap.
We sound like a culture on crystal meth. The boomer generation, the first to be pampered in the postwar era of the ’50s, found their lungs in the ’60s and have been at whine and cheese parties ever since — getting bladdered on Whienekens and sacrificing the ideal of the common good (embraced by the Greatest Generation) on the altar of individual rights.
There is a spiritual value to silence. Scripture weighs in: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue” (Proverbs 18:21). The apostle James is blunt: “Everyone be quick to listen, slow to speak” (1:19) and again, “A man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires” (1:20 NIV) and again, “Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is perfect” (3:2).
The monastic tradition frequently embraced a vow of silence so that the voice of the world might be shut out and the voice of God might be heard. Even the secular culture of the ancient world appreciated silence. Pythagoras insisted that his disciples observe a strict rule of silence. The vestal virgins lived in silence for years at a time.
The irony of this column is not lost on me. It’s a very whiny column. It’s all about me and my need for peace and quiet. I work in silence. No Mozart, Beethoven, Coldplay, Dido or Sarah McLachlan. Too much allegro and not enough adagio in my life. I press Mute when car commercials appear on TV, always 35 decibels louder than regular programming.
My proposal for a National Day of Silence is that it be observed on Ash Wednesday of each year.
I understand that for a truly national day, choosing a Christian religious day for a pluralistic and multicultural movement, is not the wisest approach.
But I figure if we could get Christians to just shut up for a day, perhaps the rest of the country would sit up and take notice.