10/29/2025
Even today, that fear lives in us. In the hesitation before we speak. In the way we make ourselves smaller to stay safe. In the instinct to hide what we know, to doubt our own gifts, to dismiss our intuition as foolish.ββββββββ
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We inherited this silence. It was beaten into our ancestors and passed down through generations as survival strategy: Don't stand out. Don't challenge authority. Don't be too knowledgeable, too powerful, too free.ββββββββ
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That same silence is what allows oppression to continue. When we stay quiet to stay safe, we give power exactly what it wants, our compliance, our invisibility, our surrender. The witch hunts taught us to fear our own voices. And those in power have been counting on that fear ever since.ββββββββ
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So yes, speaking up is dangerous. It always has been. But silence? Silence is how they win. It's how injustice becomes normalized, how atrocities become acceptable, how the vulnerable stay unprotected.ββββββββ
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Our ancestors were silenced by force. We silence ourselves by fear. And the result is the same: those who abuse power face no resistance.ββββββββ
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We honor those who were murdered for refusing to be quiet, let's also ask ourselves: What are we staying silent about? What injustice are we witnessing but not naming? What power are we allowing to go unchallenged because speaking feels too risky?ββββββββ
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The witch hunts taught us to be afraid. But they also showed us what happens when good people say nothing. κ©β₯οΈ Ella
