At the core of my belief system is an outsized faith in the power of stories. I say outsized only because it sounds grandiose to say that I’m hanging my hat on stories. Stories are so ephemeral, so intangible. Surely, I could come up with something more solid. While logic would argue against stories, I think we live our lives as a series of stories, and so the stories that matter most to us really do shape us.

Things taking place beyond us are made more real when connections, through people we know or stories about people we don’t know that make them feel personal, exist; personal is how we invest. And that’s why, for example, former President Bush’s willfully hiding the arrival of caskets with fallen service men and women was so calculating and so very wrong: the policy aimed to quash the power of these losses, as experienced through that ceremony and those images. For those of us without family or close friends risking their lives, the reality of those of how thousands have returned to their homeland became effectively invisible while that cover-of-night-media-blackout policy remained in place. Put another way, think how much one voice, that of Anne Frank’s through her Diary, which conveyed what it was like to be a Jewish person in hiding during World War II, made that horrible tragedy seem even more horrible and more tragic, simply because it became real.

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Many years ago (I’m thinking late 1980’s), I worked for the Civil Liberties and Public Policy Program at Hampshire College (where amongst other projects, we began a conference for student and community activists called From Abortion Rights To Social Justice: Building The Movement For Reproductive Freedom; first year, 30 people maybe, 2009, 1,000 people easily). Working in coalition and before the Internet made this kind of thing much easier, a group of young women—from the United States Student Association, pro-choice organizations, NOW (I think) and me from CLPP—collected stories by young women for a ‘zine-style (before the major ‘zine movement) publication, Young Women’s Voices. We knew young women needed to learn one another’s stories and needed to hear other young women’s voices.

A couple of years ago, I was trolling the Internet looking for some piece of information and happened upon the site for a women’s health center. A quote about the power of women’s voices stared at me. I read it, and thought, wow. Yeah. Then, I realized those were my words, taken from Young Women’s Voices. Talk about the power of the Internet (and its trippiness).

I loved that project, and I believe in the Speak Out model, because using one’s voice and story breaks silences, taboos and lifts shame. A voice is power. A story can sway hearts and minds. The fact, the existence of HIV/AIDS, abortion, miscarriage, abuse, homelessness or any other fill-in-the-blank-experiences is not news. Stories anchor issues; stories engage our minds and melt our hearts. A place to begin making change is to listen—or tell—your story.

To that end, I sent in my abortion story to a new nonprofit that’s about to launch, and is searching for women’s stories about abortion. 45 Million Voices is dedicated to eliminating the stigma, shame and silence surrounding abortion through education, empowerment, and sisterhood. The founders believe that abortion is not something to feel ashamed of or to hide. And yet, in the current climate, there is a sense of discomfort, because abortion is, seemingly, an embattled issue (even stories covering the assassination—beyond murder, this crime was—of Dr. George Tiller employed incendiary language such as “abortion doctor,” rather than simply doctor). If, in order to obtain a legal medical procedure, you have to go through a metal detector and have your bags searched and carefully use only your first name in the waiting room, it’s pretty hard to feel completely comfortable. The website for 45 Million Voices is protected. Stories can be submitted anonymously or under a pseudonym. It’s no surprise that I applaud this straightforward effort to make more room for women: for our voices, our stories, and our telling our truths. If you have a story, I encourage you to share it: speak up and speak out.