The Lost Voice

I recently lost my voice! No joke.

It dawned on me that things were pretty bad when I couldn’t utter those three little words…”vanilla latte please” in my local coffee shop.

It got worse. I had to pull out of supply. You try teaching a 30 plus class with literally no voice, never mind the projection that’s needed. Same with tutoring as with even the best theatrical skills in the world, miming is not enough.

 However, this whole lack of access to my vocal chords got me thinking about how so many out there have such an unacceptable fight to get their voice heard and often in the corridors of so called power. It also stirred up some thought about why I’m doing what I do.

I’m going to be honest (there’s not much of that around these days!) but I’ve been pretty much reinventing myself over the past 3 or more years. Making it up as I go along. Conjuring up ways to bring my different careers and experience together to bring the income in. At points (the honesty's flowing now), I’ve eyed up my guitar in the corner of the room and considered busking outside Waitrose. Oh, I forgot, I’ve moved. We’re talking the local Co-op now.

So, helped along by some periods where supply could be likened to finding a grain of rice in the Sahara desert, I started my own Comms for Kids business whilst still picking up teaching and maxing on my campaigning work. If you haven’t heard of petition PE1979, take a look!

Has it been easy? Absolutely not, but work across the different experiences has really highlighted those unheard voices and confirmed what really drives me.

The child in the classroom whose life story has already convinced them that there is no value in their voice, even their existence, so why speak or aspire to anything in the first place? The children across communities whose stories of breached rights fill many political speeches but rarely deliver the change that they so need. And even this week, the child sexual abuse survivor who, despite finally finding her voice, is still knocking hopelessly on every door to be heard.

In all, directly or indirectly, I regard it as a privilege to play a small part in not only helping to amplify these voices but in also increasingly sticking with them to ensure their stories result in change.

So, unless you pass me outside the Co-op, I’m here to help you tell your story. Get in touch.

Written 27/5/26