Insistence Turns Silence Into Mountains of Change
Created at: September 8, 2025

Small acts of insistence can carve mountains out of silence. — Audre Lorde
From Silence to Speech
To begin, Lorde’s line distills her lifelong argument that voice is a survival tactic. In “The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action” (Sister Outsider, 1984), she writes that our silences will not protect us; choosing speech, even hesitantly, is a wager for life. A small insistence can be as modest as naming a fear aloud, posing a question others avoided, or keeping a truth in the room after the meeting ends. Through repetition, such acts carve a channel where none existed, allowing more voices to flow.
Silence as Power’s Architecture
Extending this thought, silence rarely appears by accident; it is arranged by power. In “The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House” (1979), Lorde shows how institutions reward politeness that conceals inequity. Gatekeeping, retaliation, and the etiquette of “don’t make a scene” teach people to self-censor. Thus insistence is not rudeness but counter-engineering: a steady refusal to accept erasure. By naming terms, asking for receipts, or requesting transparency, the speaker destabilizes a system that depends on quiet to function.
Accumulation and the Tipping Point
Because small refusals accumulate, they generate scale. The mountain in Lorde’s metaphor is built sediment by sediment, each grain a brief interruption of silence. Social scientists describe similar dynamics: threshold models of collective behavior show how one person’s act lowers the barrier for the next (Mark Granovetter, American Journal of Sociology, 1978). Likewise, James C. Scott’s “Weapons of the Weak” (1985) catalogs how everyday subversions—foot-dragging, rumor, selective compliance—quietly reshape power. Insistence, then, is compound interest applied to courage.
History’s Quiet Sparks
History supplies proofs of this compounding. Four students sitting at a Greensboro lunch counter on February 1, 1960 sparked sit-ins across the U.S., their calm insistence turning segregated silence into national debate. Rosa Parks’s refusal in 1955, itself one action among years of organizing, catalyzed the Montgomery Bus Boycott. During the AIDS crisis, ACT UP’s relentless die-ins and the rallying cry “Silence=Death” (from 1987) forced research and policy into the open. More recently, Tarana Burke’s “me too” (2006) became a viral chorus in 2017; each post, a small insistence, made patterns visible that secrecy had protected.
Everyday Scripts of Courage
Carrying this into daily life, insistence often looks like steady, bounded language: “I’d like to finish,” “Let’s use everyone’s pronouns,” or “Please put that in writing.” Documentation, follow-up emails, and agenda-setting are quiet tools that keep truths from being smoothed away. Risk varies, so insistence is communal: allies echo points, rotate who speaks, and share consequences so no one person becomes the cost-bearer. Over time, these routines normalize candor without spectacle, proving that persistence can be both firm and humane.
Art as Disciplined Insistence
Finally, Lorde treats art as a disciplined insistence. “Poetry Is Not a Luxury” (Sister Outsider, 1984) argues that poems are “the skeleton architecture of our lives,” shaping possibility before policy exists. Chants, murals, and songs repeat truths until they become common sense; consider the Chilean performance “Un violador en tu camino” (2019), replicated worldwide, which transformed private pain into public choreography. Thus language, returned to daily use, chisels silence into a landmark others can navigate—mountains we can point to, climb, and defend.