November 20, 2009
Today marks the twentieth anniversary of the signing of the UN Convention of the rights of children. By taking part in the Vow of Silence, we restricted ourselves from speaking, e-mailing, going on Facebook or texting. We cut back on these methods of communication to raise awareness about the millions of children around the world whose basic rights are non-existent and who do not have a voice to speak out about the injustices they live with. These children live in a world where food is a commodity and where most things are simply unattainable. We, as representative of LCC’s Free the Children committee, have decided to take it upon ourselves to raise awareness about these injustices and try and comprehend the amount of difficulty it is not to be heard and unable to convey basic necessities and personal thought. A change needs to be made and it is our commitment to not only raise awareness but also eventually make a difference.
— Noah Schoula ’11
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This feeling of frustration is overwhelming. Having so much to say, but no words to express yourself. Having a solution to all of the problems, without the ability to tell anyone how things must be done. It’s impossible to imagine how one can handle this in everyday life. Seeing the faults in the world around you, but not being able to breathe a word. Impossible.
Student Council this morning was just the beginning. A very productive day in the Board Room, although devoid of any grade 10 input. All four of the grade 10 representatives have taken the vow of silence, and we were all chomping at the bit to propose our valid solutions to the pressing issues in the school. But we had no voice.
Walking through the halls to class was equally dreadful. Not being able to return any good mornings or hellos, walking by pretending not to hear anyone. I felt guilty not replying to any of their greetings, for I didn’t want anyone to be upset. But if the hundreds of millions of children around the world don’t get to have their voice heard, why should I?
Imagine conducting a 6-station chemistry lab without being able to communicate to your partner. As you may infer, not a lot of production was yielded. My partner, Jordan, had taken the vow of silence as well, so any questions we had for our teacher were locked inside of our minds.
Skip ahead to French class. Our teacher explains how the new French government exam will be conducted. All of the questions dying to break free from my lips are trapped. To be saved for another day. So many answers left unknown.
Recess. Everyone is in a relentless pursuit to get me to speak. Taunting. Tickling. Anything they can try. They won’t break me. I’ll just pretend they’re not there. I fear that they’re not properly interpreting the message we’re trying to spread.
English class. Essay is due. Internet isn’t working, and I need to print. But of course, I can’t communicate this problem. I feel so powerless. So frustrated. So tempted. But I cannot speak. If they can’t be heard, why should I be? Poetry discussion. Robert Frost, one of my favourites. But I cannot participate. I have no voice.
Math. Step function word problem. Who got the answer? “I did!”, I am dying to yell. But I can’t. For I have no voice.
Lunch wasn’t very easy. The same question, over and over again. “Why are you doing this?” I just show them the message on my back, and no more needs to be said.
History. Class debate. Enough said.
All in all, my day at school was enlightening to say the least. It really made me think about the unfathomable repression one without the ability to be heard must feel. However, no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to fully appreciate the silence of those deprived by hunger or a lack of education. My frustration with not being able to talk to my friends, or speak my opinion on Robert Frost’s The Road Less Taken, is incomparable to those forced into child labour that are punished for speaking out against unsafe and unfair work conditions. The evil, so rampant among them, chokes out their voice, leaving them trapped in a perpetual silence. It was my goal to spread awareness about this, in the proper way, and it is my hope that I have succeeded. Only time will tell.
— Greg Sigler ’11
As I walked out of the Nairobi airport, I expected Brookhouse School to be waiting with a great welcome. Although there was a slight confusion and no one had showed up, the kind and friendly people of Kenya made me feel extremely comfortable. 
The journey began bright and early on Monday, November 9, 2009. Giving up our ped. day sleep in, our team—comprised of Greg Sigler, Noah Schouela, Elsa Schlemm, Chloe Collier, Tiffany Chamandy, Lauren Piccoli, Alysha Fedele and Blair Hardiman—arrived at the Mackay Center to pack up the bus and get the ball rolling. Once organized, we headed to the handicap-friendly Camp Massawippi in the Eastern Townships. From that moment on the fun did not stop. We were kept busy by the kids’ desire to remain active, bond with their new friends and experience nature to its fullest.