Rumi's Silence

The following prompt was required for a summer internship application I completed. It had a 500-word maximum.

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Prompt: The 13th-century poet Rumi wrote: "Listen to silence. It has so much to say." Tell us about a time when you remained silent and how your silence spoke in ways that you did or did not intend.

The only thing I dread when reading a course syllabus on the first day of class is a thirteen-letter word: participation. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for open communication and dialogue. I can understand how difficult it must be to lecture in front of students for over an hour straight every day with only blank stares blinking back and the occasional clarifying question. However, the notion that my silence screams “I’m not paying attention” or “I don’t understand” is rarely what I intend. With enough time to get to know me, people see that I am not someone who needs to be the loudest person in the room to be present and listening. My silence is often times how I show agreement or that I’m absorbing information.

I had the opportunity to take a Leadership in Action course where I interviewed my teammates on the UNC Field Hockey Team to evaluate my leadership style. At the time, I was a quiet sophomore benchwarmer on a successful team dominated by upperclassmen, so one senior’s interpretation of my silence surprised me. She said, “People respect your opinion, and because you don’t weigh in on everything, I think it carries weight when you do.” Finally, someone understands the impact of my silence! But I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t take it a step further: Why am I like this? Even when I’m certain about an answer in class, why do I hesitate to volunteer? When my teammates are collaborating in team meetings, why do I hold back from adding to the conversation? When my friends are telling me about their day, why is it difficult for me to verbalize my agreement?

Participating in the Richard A. Baddour Carolina Leadership Academy enabled me to discover the answers to my burning questions about myself. Each student took the DiSC Assessment, a behavior assessment tool that apparently knows you better than you know yourself.

“If you’re going to be associated with a plan or solution, you want to make sure it’s of the highest quality.” If I participate in class, I want my contribution to be meaningful and insightful.

“You probably have a commitment to accuracy and careful analysis, and you make sure to get to the bottom of problems before you propose solutions.” When our team’s culture needs a realignment, I make sure I understand everyone’s side of the situation before voicing an opinion on how to move forward.

“You promote disciplined analysis… and substantiate your ideas with data and facts.” This one’s not about silence, but definitely explains why I’ve decided to quote my DiSC profile rather than tell you my life story.

My experiences on the UNC Field Hockey Team and in the classroom helped me find that my silence has so much to say. My silence is influential because it enables my voice to move mountains. When I have something important to say, you’ll know.