An unexpressed self is a buried spark that either smolders with rage or threatens to go out in despair.  Once liberated, it can light the world.

The promise of that statement is the heart of No Lost Voices .

The challenge: to deliver the message of No Lost Voices to 100 groups in 50 weeks, come rain, snow, sleet or stagefright. It is about reaching women – whether adults or teens — whose selves are buried and whose voices have been lost; it is about informing parents, mentors and people in positions of influence and authority so that this happens to fewer and fewer girls and women – and when it does happen, it is not so extreme. It is about sparing as many as possible the pain of struggling to know Who am I? Do I have a right to be that? Am I good enough? It is about encouraging you if you must travel this difficult path.

The vision: No Lost Voices

Inspiration always seems to strike when there’s not a pen handy.  No Lost Voices started that way – at 70 miles per hour in the dark.

My older daughter and I were driving home from Indianapolis late at night after a pleasant little day trip.  Élise is very politically aware – and outspoken about her beliefs.  Inevitably our conversation drifted to the state of the world – and of our own country — which, it must be admitted, is in all too many aspects in serious trouble.  What can one person do in the face of such rampant abuses of power, I wondered.

My answer to that, shaped in the car that night, is that we can each throw ourselves into what we do best.  For Élise, that is writing, internationally.  For me, it is helping women reconnect with the essence of themselves – which they have so often lost along the way in the interest of meeting the needs and expectations of everybody else.   Change at any level begins with people finding their own voices.

If I look back, that really was the start of the No Lost Voices challenge.

So that’s what I’m setting out to do.  It’s liable to be a path filled with fascinating people (and some really rotten ones), heroic stories, unexpected (and expected) stumbling blocks, continuous learning, and metaphorically dropping a peanut butter sandwich “jelly side down” (thank you so much, Nancy Stahl) more than a few times.  I’ll keep you posted.  Starting tomorrow.

Oh, okay! Starting now.