Silence isn’t just quiet, it’s heavy. It lingers throughout the halls, filling the space between “I’m fine” and what we actually want to say.
In schools, silence can be shown in the most subtle of ways. A student keeping their head down through unfairness. Another laughing off a joke that deep down hurt. Someone struggling quietly because speaking up feels insignificant.
It’s time to see the unseen impact of how silence isn’t harmless, but exhausting.
According to a 2024 study from Frontiers in Education, students who feel pushed aside and helpless at school are likely to experience anxiety, disconnection and burnout. It’s not that schools don’t care, it’s that most times, students are taught (directly or indirectly) that honesty can cause trouble. The data from the CDC also shows that around 42% of teens report that they feel “persistently sad or hopeless.” When we feel like our emotions don’t matter, silence becomes their shield. The Problem? Shields eventually fracture.
Why do we stay quiet? It’s easy to say, “Speak up.” But silence, just like armor, has layers. Some of us choose to stay quiet because we don’t want to be seen as dramatic. In actuality it’s not just fear, it’s fatigue. And as the silence goes on, it starts to feel easier than living by your truth.
Now, others may disagree, not all see the impact of silence as negative. People like administrators who work in the educational field think this way shows maturity and decreases odds of conflict. The belief that saying too much, speaking into truth causes tension. In today’s society, we are taught that speaking up, being brave, and using your words are an act of dishonesty, weakness and intimidation. People now think that there should be repercussions to your words.
The death of Charlie Kirk shook the nation. Let’s be honest, a life taken because of an opinion is never okay. This show’s on a much larger scale that those who feel like they shouldn’t speak up, really shouldn’t. We are scaring people into shells, and that isn’t as safe as we think.
Silence may decrease person-to-person conflict, but it now increases inner self conflict.
Research tells us: programs like NAMI’s “Ending the Silence” have stated with evidence that openly discussing mental health reduces stigma and builds empathy, especially within the walls of school. When students attend these sessions, the reports are about feeling safer to ask for help, even from teachers. The report from Harvard’s Graduate School of Education tells us that schools building a “I hear you” culture, increases trust and student engagement. Those who feel heard, want to attend, participate, and perform better. It’s not complex: being heard helps us heal.
At GlenOak, we see it on a daily basis, not always loud, not always obvious. It’s the quiet students who always help others but never speak out for themselves. It’s the student who has felt unseen in what they excel in or the one unheard when all they had was their voice. We want to lead, provide success, and we should. But we also need to talk about what happens. The “what happens” when someone feels voiceless inside a place that’s supposed to give them the space to grow and mature.
Because silence doesn’t just linger in the back. It shapes how we see ourselves.
A call to action for those who have felt like they weren’t able to speak up, be brave, and use their words. Silence may look quiet, but it’s heavy. It will hide your story that deserves to be told. It locks up the change that was supposed to come behind the door.
If we want to call ourselves a community, we can let such things as silence hold us back. We have to make room for truth, even if it’s messy. For each other, even when it’s uncomfortable, even when it’s torturous.
The weight of silence only gets lighter when someone decides to speak up, be brave, and use their words. The question is, will you listen?
