It’s so quiet in the office today, I can hear myself not working.
Random
When I worked as a veterinary nurse, in an animal hospital, there were times when the place seemed well in order, but if someone uttered the forbidden “q” word, all hell broke loose. The “q” word I’m referring to in this article, however, has to do with those of us who are known to be the quiet ones. No patients involved…
My story
I will start by sharing my own personal experience and, underneath, write how I feel today about each of the following events.
I first remember seeing the word quiet in my primary-school pupil report, written by my teacher for me and my parents to read. My mum’s response was “she’s not quiet at home!”
In the school years that followed, the word quiet became a standard component of most of my teachers’ written or verbal vocabulary with regard to my personality, until school ended – thank God! I vaguely recall a comment from one primary-school teacher, along the lines of for the next year, we hope Sophie will engage and participate more in the class.
Group comparison: whether children or adults, a group will always be comprised of a variety of characters. I wonder if the school report encouraged the loud ones’ behaviour for the following year.
Next! I got my first proper job at the age of 16. I became an apprentice hairdresser in a salon with about 30 staff of all ages and, of course, personalities. I – an “emo” at the time (no, I won’t show you pictures) – on my first day, walked into a crowd of girls with long blonde, curly extensions, accompanied by tanned make-up. I stood out a mile! But I soon came to learn that that’s why my boss, Herbert, hired me and I was referred by him as his “little goth”. A few weeks later, I was having lunch in the small kitchen when a lady (a friend of one of the stylists), came in for a cup of tea and a natter. We exchanged looks and I listened as she talked. Then, suddenly, and to my surprise, she blurts out: “quiet this one”, nodding her head in my direction. One of the stylists replied, “yeah we sometimes need to make sure she’s alive.” I sheepishly smiled but stayed quiet and returned to my food. I’m pretty sure a word like knobhead entered my head, in reference to him.
Again, group comparison. The stylist’s reply was plainly rude. Certainly, I never kept in touch with that dude. What benefit would I gain from this contact?
Last year, before leaving home to travel, someone said to me: “I had a conversation about you: I said she’s not loud in a group but will travel the world.”
Honestly, I was slightly gobsmacked. I wanted to ask: so what? Not every quiet person is shy, unconfident, or weak. Why this perception? And by being loud, would this make me a better person?
What does it matter?
Back then, I felt like quietness was seen as a negative thing.
People would say…
“It’s always the quiet ones.”
“I thought you were quiet.”
…Did you not like something I said or done?
I used to think that everybody would prefer to be the loud one of the group rather than the quiet one. I asked myself, does quiet personality mean someone who is introverted and boring (as many times I have been described this way)… Was this me then?
What does quiet even mean? It’s quite subjective. Having that time away from the noise of the group, where it’s difficult to get a word in edgeways when the loud ones occupy the group’s attention, I’ve had plenty of interesting talks with those who have been described as quiet.
There may be a reason for someone’s quietness, and I think we need to practice compassion towards each other. Those who influence the group on someone’s behalf for their own selfish reasons (unknown to us) are the ones that need to take time inwards… They are certainly more lost than us, quiet ones. Should we not concern ourselves with someone’s level of kindness rather than their volume button? Meeting people through new jobs or by travelling, I have come to understand that we are a mixed bunch and not everyone will gel. We have to embrace our qualities and find out what suits our own needs; what do we want out of this conversation? Sometimes… it’s as simple as just listening. Or maybe listening is not as simple as we think? Try it.
