Connie's Day of Silence Diary:

Dear Diary,

Today I met the cutest boy (and girl!), but I couldn't tell them that they were cute because I was participating in the Day of Silence. And so I resorted to gesticulating wildly and earning myself a couple of weirded-out looks from passersby.

In all seriousness, however, the Day of Silence was ... frustrating, in one word. I was tempted, many times, to speak for the sake of convenience, but always caught myself at the last minute. This is what many members of the American LGBT community feel like, I told myself sternly. This is how they feel every day. By repeating those phrases in my head, I was able to keep on the path of silence and simply ... observe. I realized that, without the functions of speech that we take for granted, things stood out more. I noticed the microexpressions on my classmates' faces, the nervous shift of their bodies, the minute ticks and twitches that made a conversation human. It was thrilling and frightening at the same time. Just because you're silent doesn't mean you're dumb, or that you don't have things that are worth saying. It simply means that you don't want to talk - or, in this case, that you can't talk.

This revelation was angering.

By the time the day was over, I was more than happy to break my vow and burst out into hearty shouts and exaggerated singing. Still, my experience was an interesting one and I'll be certain to do it next year. I could take all day to relate everything that had transpired, but I doubt that people would want to spent hours poring over my poor grammar and terrible spelling. It would take eons to decipher a single syllable. So I'll leave you all with this in mind: Don't take your freedom of speech without thinking about it, because some groups of people simply aren't listened to.