I recently discovered that I have only one true passion.
As much as I may tell you that I love music, books, plays and art, everything I love in this world boils down to one simple thing: communication.
I looked up the definition of communication, because I’m obsessively curious, and so far two definitions are tied for my favorite. I know what communication is, sure — but nothing describes the word quite like “activity by one organism that changes or has the potential to change the behavior of other organisms” or even more simply, “something imparted, interchanged, or transmitted.”
The way we speak to one another has, in my opinion, evolved very little in the time since historians and scientists decided we knew how. We still grunt in approval and exertion, we still wink at our suitors, we still raise fists against our captors, voices against oppressors, and structures against the backdrop of nature.
What contributes even more to its power is how intensely we feel its absence; when we choose not to speak, but to remain silent. Nothing hurts quite like not knowing what to say to a loved one, or not knowing how to comfort a stranger in the wake of catastrophe. Nothing rules our society like unspoken laws, taboos that lord over us more powerfully than any written legislature purports to. And nothing threatens the power of the unspeakable like the courage to give it a voice.
VoiceBox Media is not a pedestrian news source covering simple transgressions and questioning the identity of the cookie jar thief. I believe in the work that Holly gives us. She forces us to think, to ask hard questions and to learn about things outside our comfort zone. VoiceBox Media is the closest I’ve gotten to how real media should be.
When you report on any old assignment, you are likely to interview people who whittle time out of their busy day to talk to you for ten minutes about something their job pays them to do.
When you report on an assignment that matters, people will give you their soul.
If we were not social creatures, we would have no need for this never-ending network of audible and visible waves, appearing on a page or a computer screen or an ancient cave wall, or streaming through our radios and television sets and earbuds.
But we are social, and communication is how we survive.
Communication is the most important tool in the human arsenal. We use it to validate our surroundings, our struggles and our selves. Our existence over time has boiled down to how we define each other and our reflections, to how we communicate with the people who live among us. Every action we take is expression; every word we speak is presentation.
Suddenly, we are surrounded by meaning, and we need only to pick it out.
Stories are not just words on a page.
Stories are how we survive.