Media By Mariam

By: Mariam Kolley

Only cowards find comfort in the dark.
It is in those shadows where feelings are forbidden.
And when silence becomes exhausting,
And light is within reach,
Those damned cowards begin to question
Who is going to turn it on for me?

Those were some of the most meaningful words I would ever write or speak, a poem in the most important speech I have ever given.

For all four years of high school, I participated in competitive speech and debate. I crafted many speeches over time, but my senior speech was the most substantial. I built a case against the death penalty and how it has been weaponized against Black people at unethical and barbaric rates. I named the speech “The Game of Justice.”

Throughout the year, I competed in what felt pretty much like everywhere: from the University of Florida to the University of Kentucky to Yale to Emory University. The speech became muscle memory, each sentence rehearsed until it lived inside me. I believed I had mastered my voice. I believed I had mastered what it meant to speak courageously. 

But all of these competitions were merely practice for nationals. It was there that my words would be immortalized, echoing beyond that stage, beyond me, beyond time. I believed that there, I would have a voice that defied the dark. To an extent I was right, taking that stage would teach me more than I could ever fathom, just not in the way that I had imagined. At the time, I believed darkness was something to escape. That stage would teach me that is not always true. Some people survive within darkness, speak from within it, and are forced to make homes within it simply to stay safe. For the first time, I would come to understand that speech is not only a performance, but also a sacrifice.

Sixteen rounds of competition had passed, and I had made it to the final stage. I was one of six speakers left. Six thousand people filled the auditorium. Twelve thousand hands waited to applaud or fall still.

I took the stage, the aggressive spotlight blinding me, took a breath and began.

The words flowed out of me, just as they always had at every lesser competition. But this time there was a pressure that I had never felt before. Every word  I had ever spoken led me to this moment. What if it wasn’t perfect? Would my words still hold the same weight if I stumbled? 

And then, out of pure pressure to say all the right words, I forgot everything.

For six seconds, I stood frozen beneath the spotlight.  

The auditorium turned against me, their celebratory cheers slowing out of pity. Gasps from the audience rang in my ears like a roar. My thoughts scattered. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. For the first time I understood why so many people retreat into silence. The dark can feel safer than exposure. I wanted to disappear entirely. I wanted to surrender myself to the darkness. But I didn’t. Somehow, through the panic, I dredged the words back up. Even now, I cannot remember exactly how I found them again. What matters to me is that I stayed.  

That six second silence, though mortifying in the moment, stood for much more than fleeting embarrassment. It was a privileged, small-scale example of a question that haunts many people’s lives

What is the cost of speaking up? 

In the current political climate, there is a quiet, unwavering fear surrounding American’s first amendment rights. This fear lurks in the jail cells of black journalists whose only crime was reporting on protests. It haunts university students who are afraid of their words resulting in expulsion. Books are being removed, cultural museums are being defunded, and speech that should be legally protected is constantly under attack. For immigrant families, speaking up could cost them their access to citizenship. Often, disabled citizens’ requests are ignored because their needs do not fit the mainstream image. Time and time again, the most vulnerable communities’ lives are put at risk if they dare to tell their truth, leaving them to ask: How much is my voice worth? 

The First Amendment protects freedom of speech in the United States. Yet, every day American citizens have to confront whether the stories that they are living are important enough to be told, because despite this notion of all speech being protected, there are countless cases of  people’s voices resulting in imprisonment or death. Mahmoud Khalil a Columbia University graduate student was detained for 104 days for being involved in pro-Palestinian protests on campus in 2025. He publicly criticized U.S. support for Israel’s military actions in Gaza, a position that had already become politically charged and increasingly scrutinized. At the time of his protest, Khalil was not only aware of the political climate surrounding pro-Palestine speech, but also of the growing risks faced by international students who spoke out. 

Yet he spoke anyway. That decision carried consequences far beyond his own freedom. For people like Khalil, darkness is not metaphorical. It is the consequence for being brave enough to challenge authority. Unlike a strategic darkness that some retreat into for protection, this one is imposed upon dissenters by institutions determined to force them into silence. This can look like punishment, isolation, or even death. For Khalil, this darkness manifested into detention where he missed the birth of his first child. His wife navigated pregnancy and childbirth without him, while he faced the possibility of deportation and prolonged separation from his family. In interviews following his release, Khalil described how the experience reshaped his understanding of fear. In a 2025 interview titled “Mahmoud Khalil Tells His Story” he acknowledges that “being uncomfortable is different from being unsafe” and despite spending 104 days in detention as a result of his speech, he does not regret a word he said. He understands exactly what his voice cost him, and still, he would choose it again. 

Khalil fought fear head on, but for others it is a losing battle. Fear has a tendency to narrow discourse. Fear isolates. Fear convinces potential change-makers that survival requires that their story stays under the radar. A 2024 study published in Discover Psychology, a peer-reviewed online academic journal, offers insight into how fear influences decisions about speech. The study examined self-censorship among college students at universities in the United States. Across two studies involving over 300 participants, The researchers found that students who perceive themselves to hold minority political or social views are significantly more likely to self-censor in academic settings. Students reported withholding opinions in classrooms and assignments when they feared judgment, discrimination, or reputational harm. The legal right to speak does not eliminate the perceived cost of speaking. When individuals believe their words may result in professional consequences or public backlash, say, for persons beyond themselves, or consequences that may impede their ability to return and fight another day, silence becomes a rational strategy. This nuance complicates the idea that silence and cowardice are synonymous. 

In this sense, rationality is not about what is morally right, but rather what would increase a person’s chance of survival or in some cases the survival of loved ones . For me, in the moment of my speech, it meant choosing the option that seemed safest, the one that protected me from failure and the possibility of disappointing thousands of people. So I chose to speak. But looking back, I realize that rationality is extremely subjective. Some people fight injustice from podiums.  Others survive quietly in the shadows, protecting themselves long enough to speak another day. Both forms of courage exist in the dark. Just as Maria Ressa, a Filipina journalist who has faced ongoing legal threats for her reporting, has spoken about the need to be deliberate and strategic with her words in order to continue her work (Line D.). Ressa recognizes that silence can be a survival strategy in a world that has historically punished martyrs. Her restraint ensures that she can keep telling her truth. In these situations, silence is calculated and fear is a signal that the consequences of a situation could be dire. 

Yet silence is not always rational. It becomes harmful when it is not temporary and it becomes surrender. The challenge, then, is not whether to speak or remain silent, but how to determine when fear is valid and when it is protecting injustice. The long-delayed exposure of abuse by Larry Nassar perfectly illustrates this danger. For years he sexually assaulted female athletes, and though some victims reported misconduct, institutions failed to act, and many bystanders stayed silent out of fear or pressure. That silence allowed harm to continue unchecked, endangering  hundreds of young women until the truth was finally brought to light. The murder of George Floyd offers a different outcome. When Floyd was pinned to the ground by Derek Chauvin, many bystanders could have chosen silence out of fear of police retaliation. Instead, several individuals spoke up, and one teenager recorded the incident, despite the risk of a lethal confrontation. That decision to reject fear kickstarted a global reckoning and re-fuelled the Black Lives Matter movement. 

In fact, it is that same raw, audacious, disruptive speech that has historically created needed change. From the Civil Rights Movement, to Women’s Suffrage Movement, progress has always depended on those willing to endure uncertainty for the sake of something greater. Those who spearheaded these movements show the beauty that unfolds when one does not allow weaponized fear to cage them in. But many of these individuals did not speak under the illusion that courage could protect them. They understood, often with terrifying clarity, exactly what their voices could cost. Civil Rights activists endured bombings, imprisonment, and assassination threats for demanding rights that should have already belonged to them. Figures like Martin Luther King Jr. continued speaking despite repeated threats against his life, fully aware that each speech could be his last. Suffragists were beaten, arrested, and publicly humiliated for demanding political representation. Yet they continued because remaining silent would have guaranteed that injustice survived. 

What makes these movements remarkable is that these leaders acted despite having every reason to be afraid. They understood that fear was rational. The danger was real. And still, they decided that some truths were worth risking everything. Their sacrifices reveal that courageous speech is rarely convenient. Those who spoke before us did not always know they would be remembered. They spoke because silence would have perpetuated the cycles that they were already trapped in. Their courage built the freedoms we inherit today.

When silence is used to suppress dissenting voices, injustice can thrive. Discriminatory policies pass unchallenged. Histories are rewritten. Voices disappear. And though not everyone is a fearless martyr or warrior, their voice, no matter how small, can still contribute to the fight against oppression. 

So what should your voice cost? 

There is no simple answer. Realistically, nobody should be expected to endanger themselves, their family, or their way of life while in pursuit of exercising a law that has already been enumerated for them. It should not be this way, and the burden is not on the people, but on the government to truly follow the Constitution that it claims to be bound to. 

Looking back on that stage , the irony is that I have never been more visible than I was in those six seconds of silence. Beneath the brightest light I had ever stood under, I felt swallowed by a darkness entirely my own. Unable to remember my own words, fear created a kind of internal blackout, one capable of silencing a person even while the entire world was watching. Sometimes people who appear the loudest are privately negotiating terror and self-doubt in ways that are invisible to everyone around them.  As I stood there, continuing to speak felt nearly impossible, but when I place that moment beside the risks faced by others, those six seconds shrink. My fear was of embarrassment; theirs may be of separation from family, deportation, arrest, or harassment. And yet, even in those situations, some still choose to speak, proving that true courageous speech doesn’t require recklessly standing for everything. It is centered in deciding when it is crucial to listen and when it is time to be heard. 

I used to believe that only cowards found comfort in the dark, but the dark is not always a place of cowardice. Now I believe some heroes are formed in darkness, it is where they can seek refuge. And staying there does not make you less than, just as being outspoken does not automatically make you a hero. Those voices that reside in the darkness may hold more power and strength than those in the light could fathom. And maybe that is what I misunderstood all along. Sometimes, darkness is where courage is able to form. Sometimes, it is where people gather the strength to speak. And sometimes, it is where they decide that surviving today is the most crucial part in being able to fight for a better tomorrow. 

When it comes to speaking up, your voice should cost as much as you can afford. 

A repost, a journal entry, anonymous blogs, a simple conversation. There are countless ways to use your voice for good, no matter how miniscule they may seem. Not all heroes stand beneath spotlights. Some carry truths they cannot safely speak aloud, yet still refusing, in their own way, to let those truths disappear. Every action has the potential to bring some perspective and good back into this world. Whether you are a fearless martyr, or a hero in the dark. You are capable of making tangible change in your own, unique way. A way that doesn’t jeopardize the parts of your life that you worked so hard for. 

Because turning the light on this country’s issues does not always require one grand, fearless act. Sometimes, it begins with a whisper. It can begin by allowing those with platforms to speak on your behalf. And sometimes…  It begins with six seconds of silence, followed by the decision to let your voice tremble, to let it break, but to speak anyway.

Bibliography 

Bhutani, Anvee. “US Student Journalists Go Dark Fearing Trump Crusade against Pro-Palestinian Speech.” The Guardian, 7 Apr. 2025, Available at www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/apr/07/student-journalists-remove-stories-trump.  Accessed May 6th 2026. 

“Case: Disability Discrimination/Failure to Accommodate; Retaliation (n.d. Ala..).” Bloomberg Law, 6 May 2026. news.bloomberglaw.com/daily-labor-report/case-disability-discrimination-failure-to-accommodate-retaliation-n-d-ala.  

Ding, Jaimie, et al. “Journalist Don Lemon Charged with Federal Civil Rights Crimes after Covering Anti-Ice Church Protest.” AP News, 31 Jan. 2026. Available at apnews.com/article/don-lemon-arrest-minnesota-church-service-d3091fe3d1e37100a7c46573667eb85c. Accessed May 6th 2026.

Grady, Amber R., and Jerome A. Lewis. “Perceptions of Academic Discrimination Mediate the Relationship between Political Minority Status and Self-Censorship among US College Students – Discover Psychology.” SpringerLink, Discover Psychology, 4 Dec. 2024. link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s44202-024-00308-1.  

Honeycutt, Stevens N. “Sanctioned Scholars: The Price of Speaking Freely in Today’s Academy.” The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, FIRE, 2025. www.fire.org/research-learn/sanctioned-scholars-price-speaking-freely-todays-academy. 

Klein, Ezra. “Opinion | The Trump Administration Tried to Silence Mahmoud Khalil, so I Asked Him to Talk – The New York Times.” The New York Times, The Ezra Klien Show, 5 Aug. 2025. Available at www.nytimes.com/2025/08/05/opinion/ezra-klein-podcast-mahmoud-khalil.html. Accessed May 6th 2026.

Levine, M., Walton, C., Philpot, R., & Keil, T. (2026). Bystanders and the murder of George Floyd: Analyzing bystander intervention in the course of a police killing.American Psychologist, 81(3), 331–343. https://doi.org/10.1037/amp0001531 

Mountjoy, Margo. “‘Only by Speaking out Can We Create Lasting Change’: What Can We Learn from the Dr Larry Nassar Tragedy? | British Journal of Sports Medicine, 2018. bjsm.bmj.com/content/53/1/57. 

Simon, Joel. “Covering Democracy: Protests, Police, and the Press.” Knight First Amendment Institute, 20 June 2023. Available at knightcolumbia.org/content/preface-introduction. Accessed May 6th, 2026.

Superville, Darlene. “Trump Executive Order to Force Changes at Smithsonian Institution, Targeting Funding for Programs with ‘Improper Ideology.’” PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, 28 Mar. 2025. Available at www.pbs.org/newshour/nation/trump-executive-order-to-force-changes-at-smithsonian-institution-targeting-funding-for-programs-with-improper-ideology.

Accessed May 6th 2026. “Woman Human Rights Defender and Journalist Maria Ressa Acquitted in Anti-Dummy Case.” Front Line Defenders, 2025. Available at www.frontlinedefenders.org/en/case/woman-human-rights-defender-and-journalist-maria-ressa-acquitted-anti-dummy-case. Accessed May 6th 2026.