We need to support each other in believing our voices can be strong.
On a dirt floor in a community “building” that had a metal roof and no walls, we met with women and a few men in the comarca, which translates as “reservation”.  This village has no electricity and no running water, and poverty is the order of the day for all but the tribal chiefs. Most of the challenges expressed were the results of poverty. One woman, who appeared to be in her forties, really had a hard time making eye contact during the exercises, giggled a lot, and just resisted doing any of it. When we got to her concern, it was that she didn’t have enough money for food for her family. So I asked the entire group how they thought she could begin to make some money, given that she still has small children. One woman replied that she could make some kind of handicraft to sell at the cooperative.
An older woman in the periphery, who was crocheting a small purse, offered up a finished purse for her to use for the skit. The two women who actually run the cooperative, and were at the workshop, played themselves in the skit. Even more consumed by giggles, the woman approached the two women from the cooperative to ask if they would sell her wares. Half-heartedly she tried to convince them of the quality of her work. The other women played along beautifully, only showing scant interest in her work since she was giggling, not making eye contact, and not taking the exercise seriously (more out of embarrassment and lack of self-confidence than malice.)
When I stopped the action, I asked everybody what they thought of that attempt, they all quickly provided an astute critique—self-enforcing the seriousness of this “play.” They told her to make direct eye contact and speak with a full voice without giggling. We all asked for her to do it again, and she did remarkably better, making real attempts to get them to look at her work.
Though at first glance it may seem punitive that the women made her do the skit again, it was ultimately a very caring action. They refused to let her believe that it was ridiculous for her to use her voice to try and make a better life for herself and her children. They would not tolerate her believing that her voice was silly or laughable.

