Tuesday, August 21, 2007

"Hearing to Speech"

This is a well-known piece of writing by the late theologian Nelle Morton, from her 1977 essay “Beloved Image,” reprinted in the book The Journey is Home. She used the expression "hearing to speech" before 1977, though; in another part of the book there is a journal entry from 1971 recounting one of the stories in the passage below. Some of you may already be very familiar with it, but I thought others might not have seen it.

My students in the Feminist Theology course are reading and reflecting on this and another passage (which I will enter here later) for the course this week. Yesterday was the first meeting of the course, which covers feminist, womanist, and other women-defined theologies in the U.S. and internationally.

Hearing to Speech

It was in a small group of women who had come together to tell our own stories that I first received a totally new understanding of hearing and speaking. I remember well how one woman started, hesitating and awkward, trying to put the pieces of her life together. Finally she said: “I hurt… I hurt all over.” She touched herself in various places as if feeling for the hurt before she added, “but… I don’t know where to begin to cry.” She talked on and on. Her story took on fantastic coherence. When she reached a point of most excruciating pain no one moved. No one interrupted. Finally she finished. After a silence, she looked from one woman to another. “You heard me. You heard me all the way.” Her eyes narrowed. She looked directly at each woman in turn and then said slowly: “I have a strange feeling you heard me before I started. You heard me to my own story.” I filed this experience away as something unique. But it happened again and again in other such small groups of women. It happened to me. Then, I knew I had been experiencing something I had never experienced before. A complete reversal of the going logic in which someone speaks precisely so that more accurate hearing may take place. This woman was saying, and I had experienced, a depth hearing that takes place before the speaking – a hearing that is far more than acute listening. A hearing engaged in by the whole body that evokes speech –a new speech—a new creation. The woman had been heard to her own speech.

While I experienced this kind of hearing through women, I am convinced it is one of those essential dimensions of the full human experience long programmed out of our culture and our religious tradition. In time I came to understand the wider implication of this reversal as revolutionary and profoundly theological. Hearing of this sort is equivalent to empowerment. We empower one another by hearing the other to speech. We empower the disinherited, the outsider, as we are able to hear them name in their own way their own oppression and suffering. In turn, we are empowered as we can put ourselves in a position to be heard by the disinherited (in this case other women) to speaking our own feeling of being caught and trapped. Hearing in this sense can break through political and social structures and image a new system. A great ear at the heart of the universe –at the heart of our common life—hearing human beings to speech—to our own speech.

Since this kind of hearing first came to me, I have tried to analyze the process, but it resists analysis and explanation. It traffics in another and different logic. It appears to belong in woman experience, and I have found it in some poetry and some Eastern religions. The Pentecost story reverses the going logic and puts hearing before speaking as the work of the spirit.

There is no doubt that when a group of women hear another woman to speech, a presence is experienced in the new speech. One woman described the “going down” as non-speaking—or speaking that is a lie. Even though she used the common vernacular she said she used it in the clichéd manner of her conditioning. It was the language of the patriarchal culture—alien to her own nature. “Coming up,” she explained, “I had no words. I paused. I stuttered. I could find no word in the English language that could express my emotion. But I had to speak. Old words came out with a different meaning. I felt words I could not express, but I was on the way to speaking –or the speaking was speaking me. I know that sounds weird.”While all liberation movements may be expected to rise with a new language on their lips, I have been particularly conscious of the new woman speech. Perhaps because it portends such vast changes of both a personal and political nature. It is as if the patriarchal structures had been called into question and the powerful old maleness in deity had been superseded by the new reality coming audible in woman speech.

The phenomenon of women speaking runs counter to those theologians who claim that God is sometimes silent, hidden, or withdrawn (deus absconditus), and that we must wait patiently until “He” deigns to speak again. A more realistic alternative to such despair, or “dark night of the soul,” would see God as the hearing one—hearing us to our own, responsible word. That kind of hearing would be priori to the theologians’ own words. It might even negate and ruffle their words and render them unable to speak until new words emerge. Women know hearing to speech as powerfully spiritual, and know spirit as movement and presence hearing us until we know and own the words and the images as our own words and our own images that have come out of the depths of our struggle.


johnieb said...

I was not familiar with this nor with Morton; thank you for both.

Immediately I was reminded of two experiences which I have not yet been able to speak about adequately, even to myself: one on a Sunday night in late October, 1973, and one last month in my Veterans Support group.

In both instances I remember feeling struck dumb, but led to speak, which I attributed to Holy Sophia; I still do, but more seems to be emerging. I was alone in the midst of others, who heard me until I could speak, yes: very much like that. The woman's "that sounds weird" doesn't sound weird at all, but precise.

I have often felt, but rarely said, this draws me to Feminism and to women's efforts to free their voices. Yes again, the experiences have consistently resisted analysis and explanation; poetry and mysticism, in texts or the elusive reports of others' experience, have seemed close sometimes, so I am drawn out towards them. Perhaps I may grow in patience to draw others.

Again, thanks for this. I'll be very interested to hear how your students, and others, react.

A first reaction.

Grandmère Mimi said...

Jane, I'm not quite sure that I can wrap my mind around what you mean here. I think that I may have done the hearing to speech with someone I paid to listen, a very wise psychologist.

I stumbled through the first couple of sessions before I was able to begin to speak, and he was there. Then the words began to flow, and they came in session after session up to five or six, and then I was done. I thought of it as a catharsis, and it was empowering.

I'm not really sure if my experience is the same as what you have described.

Too bad we can't do the hearing to speech more often among ourselves.

Jane R said...

Mimi,I didn't write all this, Nelle MOrton did.

It sounds like you were deeply heard. I suspect that what Morton is describing is more akin (because of the group's presence, though it certainly can be true of psychotherapy and spiritual direction) to what Johnie described re: his veterans' groups.

There's not a right or wrong way of reacting to this passage. It's just really evocative and has meant a lot to those noticing, as Morton did, that we don't yet know the full experience of humanity because so many women's voices have been buried within them.

Which is not to say that some men don't bury their voices.

More soon -- I just taught another "first class of the semester" and I think it's time for dinner and at least a half glass of red wine!

Grandmère Mimi said...

Sorry, Jane, I did not understand that when I read the post.

Enjoy your wine.

Jane R said...

Well, I usually post quotes in color so it was confusing. I'm going to change the color now so it is less so. The wine was good :-). So was the grilled eggplant.

Grandmère Mimi said...

Red wine, red print. That does make it clearer.

lj said...

I remember when I first read this in the early 80s, at seminary, after my undergraduate years and thinking, "I was heard into speech at Guilford!" aha! And now there you are, inviting students into the process again. lovely.

I do think that the Quaker values of education invite the silence that deepens listening, and so encourage speech.

Jane R said...

One of my students made that very point.

It's so interesting to see how different people react to the text.