The Case for Quiet
A calm lake lies behind you, its smooth surface shining in the sunlight. A warm breeze creates soft ripples, matching the quiet peace around. Your eyes are open wide, showing not just calm but a hidden story beneath the surface. This moment is more than stillness—it shows a surprise inside, a depth that inspires those who pay attention.
Editor’s note: This paper was originally written on April 8th, 2013, as part of what I believe was a Psychology class assignment. It reflects my early exploration of personality and perspective through an editorial lens. I am sharing it here as a starting point before diving deeper into the behind-the-scenes thoughts, growth, and reflections that have unfolded since. Consider this a look back at where my curiosity first began.
Welcome, hopeful believers and kind hearts. Today marks the beginning of a fresh new series on my blog: “Past, Present, & Future.” In this series, I will share an old piece of my writing. It will be unchanged, just as it was when I first penned it. After that, I will reflect on where I was at that point in my life, the emotions behind the words, and the lessons I have carried with me since. Finally, I will share where I stand today and the hopes I hold for tomorrow.
This is not just a walk down memory lane. It is about embracing a growth perspective and honoring how far we have come. Sometimes, the clearest way forward is looking back.
So, go ahead and find your cozy spot, settle in, and let us dive in.
Before I share my paper, I want to mention a book I recently finished: Watch Me Disappear by Janelle Brown. The story follows a mother who vanishes during a hiking trip, and the emotional unraveling that follows her husband and daughter as they search for answers. It was a compelling read with an ending I did not see coming.
What struck me most, though, were the moments of quiet reflection woven throughout the narrative. One quote in particular stood out and it felt especially fitting for today’s theme of perspective and self-awareness:
“No matter how hard you try to see yourself through someone’s eyes or from right inside your own brain—it is impossible to really assemble all the pieces and understand them clearly as one thing. In the same way, you can never get a true grasp on the entirety of the universe regardless of your position inside of it” - Janelle Brown, Watch Me Disappear, p. 335
This quote captures the very essence of what this series hopes to explore: the complexity of understanding ourselves fully, especially when we are still in the middle of our own stories.
In the spirit of that quote, I want to take you back to something I wrote in 2013, an editorial titled “Should Personality Matter?” In it, I explore the importance of diversity and the gaps I saw in how it was often overlooked.
Here is what I wrote then, unchanged and just as it came from my heart at the time:
“Going classroom to classroom, I always see the same things: The outgoing, open student who always answering everything and the shy, reserved student who is praying every second that they won’t be called upon, but that’s not how it should be. It should be free.
Free of pressure. Free of opinion. A place where one can seek comfort. Be full of confidence. Somewhere one can feel alive. Without the enemies that bring you down. A classroom where one can feel acceptance and show who they truly are.
As students, we should rise above to have a choice whether to speak up or not. No one should be put on the spot. As a student myself, I know I am a nervous wreck when teachers are looking around the room for someone to call on. As every second ticks away, I feel a bit of relief, yet when I am called upon, I instantly feel like I am a million miles away because I do not know what to say or what has been said. Instead, I either look down or search the room, while trying to come up with what to say. I do know that it should not be this way. Written by Kelci Hogue.
Here at my college, one of the goals is to promote equity. By promoting equity they should look at all sides of the equation. If they did they would realize that not all sides are represented. They call it participating, yet for some it feels like torture. By forcing quiet, misunderstood students to talk when they are not ready can cause negative effects by lowering self-esteem, confidence, and avoiding a situation at all costs. After talking to several friends they feel the same way even after taking a speech class. Why allow ourselves to change to society‘s standards of being an extrovert? Instead, we should accept diversity.
At my college, do they accept diversity completely? They understand that students come from various backgrounds, but do they accept diversity when speaking of personalities? Not fully. I know we can do better because I have a teacher who lets us decide whether or not we feel comfortable or not to share. Although we talk about a lot of tough topics in that class, I feel like that should be the standard in every class. It would only be fair sinse they try to conform shy students to outgoing students.
Although by students sharing their opinions, it can show different sides of a story, which is why I understand that teachers would want students to share ideas. In the long run, different views in a subject would benefit everyone because everyone thinks differently and there is no one way to think. In addition, it can help teach diversity, but just because they can does not mean they should. Personally, I love listening to what other people have to say I just have a problem that everybody should have a turn sharing their side of a subject. Written by Kelci Hogue.
When I enjoy talking in front of people, I know I am feeling confident, prepared, and that I can trust those around me, but when I dislike talking in class I know it is because if I mess up I will not feel as confident in myself and I will try to avoid the situation more and more, which will end up hurting me more than helping me. Now let’s think about this for a second. Would students benefit by being pushed to the point where it hurts rather than helps us?
If not, let’s take a stand, let our voices be heard, and make a change together! So all students will have positive experiences and will not be afraid to share different views. The time to make a change is now!”
Looking back now, I can still feel the emotion behind those words. At that time in my life, I felt unheard, invisible, and even overlooked. But I was also deeply passionate about a topic that meant so much to me. As I may have shared in other posts, growing up, teachers often commented how quiet I was. Over time, that quietness stopped feeling like a part of who I was and started feeling like something I needed to fix. It was treated more like a flaw than a trait. And I carried the weight of that guilt and shame into college.
Maybe I had this idea in my head that college would be more laid-back. That it would be a space of independence. I figured if I wanted to risk my GPA by skipping class or lowering my grade by choosing not to participate, that would be my choice. After all, I was paying for it. But college ended up feeling like another version of high school. Instead of being given the freedom to make our own decisions and live with the consequences, it felt like we were being forced into molds again.
The frustration and passion behind my editorial came from that belief that if I did not speak up in class because I was anxious, uncertain, or simply not ready, that should have been my decision. Not a mark against me. I never encouraged skipping class or staying silent just because, but I did question whether grades should reflect participation at all. College, to me, should be a place to grow and flourish. And when we start grading personalities, or boxing people in based on things like demographics, socioeconomic status, or temperament, we risk missing the bigger picture. We risk hurting people in ways that are not always visible.
Even if I wrote it a bit too passionately at the time, the heart behind it was honest.
Revisiting this piece now, years later, I can see the layers I was not fully aware of at the time.
While the paper itself may feel a bit messy, chaotic even, my lived experiences were woven into every line. I was clearly hurting, likely from that class or another class where I had been forced to participate in a way that chipped away at my confidence. Back then, I was still finding my voice. And while I was quiet, that did not mean I lacked something. It simply meant I expressed myself differently.
This paper was written before I took my speech class, which ended up helping shift things for me. Speaking became easier, not because I suddenly loved the spotlight, but because I finally had the chance to talk about things that mattered to me. When the topic aligned with my heart, I could speak with a kind of ease I did not know I had. That made all the difference.
Now, years later, while I still agree with the heart of what I wrote, such as that we need more space for diverse personalities and ways of being, I can also see the reality with more nuance. The truth is, there will always be rules, systems, and expectations that do not quite fit everyone. It is not always realistic to create a perfectly inclusive model for every situation. And as much as I wish that was not the case, it is something I have come to accept.
But acceptance does not always mean silence. We may not always change the system overnight, but we can speak up. We can share our stories, our concerns, and our truths. In doing so, we make space, not just for ourselves, but for others, too. We begin to heal. We let go of guilt and shame that we have carried for far too long. We start to celebrate our differences while recognizing our shared humanity.
Sometimes, at least for me, it is not about demanding change or asking for special accommodations. I do not need a fix, a solution, or even sympathy. I just need to say it. To get it off my chest, and out of my mind. To know I am not alone. And from there, to move forward. Wiser. Softer. Stronger.
And moving forward, that is really the heart of it. Not just personally but collectively. The more we reflect, the more we grow. And with growth comes a fresh sense of perspective. One that can reshape how we create and hold space for one another.
What I have come to realize is that creating inclusive spaces is not about having all the answers, it is about staying open. It is about listening more deeply, making room for different communication styles, and recognizing that inclusion starts with awareness, not perfection. When we allow people to show up as they are, not just the loudest or most confident voices, we invite in a wider range of experiences, perspectives, and ideas. And that is where growth lives.
My hope moving forward is that we continue to shift how we define participation, presence, and engagement, not only in classrooms but in workplaces, relationships, and communities. A truly inclusive environment does not require everyone to fit into one mold. It allows for nuance, honors silence as much speech, and understands that people thrive in different ways. That fresh sense of perspective, rooted in compassion and curiosity, can be the start of meaningful change. Written by Kelci Hogue
The first post in the “Past, Present, & Future” series has reminded me how powerful it can be to revisit old words with new eyes. While my 2013 paper may have been written from a place of frustration and pain, it also came from a desire to be seen, heard, and understood. Something that many of us carry with us, even today.
Through reflection I have come to better understand not only what I was feeling then, but what I still believe now: that inclusion, empathy, and growth matter. We may not always have the perfect solution, but we can choose to make space for honest voices, especially the quiet ones. We can choose to listen more, judge less, and honor the many ways people show up in this world.
That is the heart of this series. Past, Present, & Future is not just about looking back. It is about looking inward and forward too. It is about seeing who we were, who we are, and who we are still becoming with grace. With understanding. With hope.
So wherever you are on your journey. Whether you are revisiting old stories or just starting to write new ones, I hope this series reminds you that growth does not always come in straight lines. Sometimes it circles back so we can move forward more fully.
Thanks for being here. There is more to come.
[Next up in this series: “An Interview from across the Pond“]
As a signature of my blog, I’d like to end this post with a suggestion to “Pass on kindness.” There’s no time like the present to Inspire Those Who Inspire You. Acts of kindness, no matter how big or small, can have a direct, positive impact on someone else. Go out there today and change someone’s life for the better!
***These are my personal opinions and may not be those of my employer.***
