Oct 27, 2022·edited Oct 27, 2022Liked by Roeland WT Cruys
I went to the best Youth Performing Arts high school in my state. I used to secretly worship the theatre kids, choir singers, and ballet dancers. They kept cliques that were entirely inaccessible to "regular" students like me. Not to mention, they were cutthroat creatures, always in competition with one another. And I was the wallflower who watched it all safely from a distance. Wide-eyed and wanting. I knew I was deeply creative.
But how could I germinate in a cesspool of toxic teenage sludge?
What I yearned for was to be a part of a group that was supportive and accepting, with genuine camaraderie. I never thought that community would manifest years later, halfway across the world, and in the midst of a global pandemic.
Voices Unleashed is my church. It's family. It's the most fertile ground I've ever sat on. Alive and pulsing. A network of synapses lighting up, contagious, and connected.
A space like this, is not only important but necessary. It's unlike any other I've encountered in Bali or elsewhere. It caters to a need for human connection that I've only experienced through watching other humans express. A type of togetherness with strangers that's so rare (at least for a sensory-sensitive introvert like me).
I went to the best Youth Performing Arts high school in my state. I used to secretly worship the theatre kids, choir singers, and ballet dancers. They kept cliques that were entirely inaccessible to "regular" students like me. Not to mention, they were cutthroat creatures, always in competition with one another. And I was the wallflower who watched it all safely from a distance. Wide-eyed and wanting. I knew I was deeply creative.
But how could I germinate in a cesspool of toxic teenage sludge?
What I yearned for was to be a part of a group that was supportive and accepting, with genuine camaraderie. I never thought that community would manifest years later, halfway across the world, and in the midst of a global pandemic.
Voices Unleashed is my church. It's family. It's the most fertile ground I've ever sat on. Alive and pulsing. A network of synapses lighting up, contagious, and connected.
A space like this, is not only important but necessary. It's unlike any other I've encountered in Bali or elsewhere. It caters to a need for human connection that I've only experienced through watching other humans express. A type of togetherness with strangers that's so rare (at least for a sensory-sensitive introvert like me).