The Contradiction We’re Living: A Culture That Demands Justice but Tolerates Silence
We live in a culture of contradiction.
On one hand, we demand justice.
We call out for perpetrators of abuse, violence, and harassment to be held accountable—
In homes.
In schools.
In workplaces.
In the public arena.
We ask for political backing, dedicated funding, and meaningful change.
We insist on widespread education for medical professionals, first responders, teachers, carers, and the legal system.
We want the noise of justice to be loud and clear.
And yet—on that very same hand—we tolerate silence.
We allow the earliest, most formative expressions of harm to pass unnoticed:
Children who cannot speak about a parent’s bad temper
Students who are silenced when calling out aggressive teachers
Friends who excuse coercive or harassing behaviour
Workplaces where microaggressions and intimidation go unchallenged
Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay
We ask for action when the damage is visible, but rarely support the quiet courage required in the early signs.
We punish the shout but ignore the whisper.
Violence Doesn’t Arrive Overnight
Just as babies don’t begin walking without hundreds of small, shaky movements—
And speech doesn’t form without messy sounds and trial and error—
The capacity to name harm, hold boundaries, or seek help must also be developed over time.
If a person has never been supported in saying “no” to something small,
How can they find the strength to confront something serious?
If we don’t provide safe, everyday opportunities to practise standing up,
How can we expect someone to push back when it’s dangerous, personal, or escalating?
We cannot expect people to hold ground in a crisis
if they’ve never been shown how to stand before.
And here's a hard question we don't ask often enough:
Why are adults allowed to say “Why are you speaking to me like that?!” or “How dare you speak to me that way?”, but children aren’t allowed to express the same?
If you're still reacting defensively when a young person challenges your tone, behaviour, or authority—whether as a relative, teacher, coach, parent or carer—then it’s time to examine that. Because what you’re doing isn't modelling accountability. It's leaning on power, fear, hierarchy—or all three—to avoid being questioned.
When does that change?
We Did It for Recycling—Why Not This?
We know that long-term social change is possible through education.
We’ve done it before.
Take recycling: integrated through school systems for over 15 years,
Embedded in public messaging,
Normalised across generations.
If we could do that for rubbish,
Why can’t we do it for relational safety?
Why aren’t we teaching children and teenagers how to recognise disrespect, respond to manipulation, or reach out when someone is being hurt?
Where are the age-appropriate lessons on power, consent, friendship, communication, and emotional safety?
We say prevention matters—but we don’t practise it.
We wait for injury before we care about protection.
Workplaces Already Have the Resources
We also know that businesses invest in professional development—
Budgets are allocated every year for training, leadership, wellbeing, and performance.
And many organisations are eager to be seen as progressive, ethical, and not part of the problem.
So why aren’t we leveraging this?
Why aren’t we directing those resources toward building cultures of safety—
Training teams to recognise early-stage harm, respond to micro-aggressions,
And practise accountability before it becomes damage control?
We already have the infrastructure.
We already have the money.
What we need is the willingness to centre relational and cultural safety as core to professional competence—
Not a side note, not a reactive policy, but a living, breathing skillset.
These are the spaces—schools, workplaces, community hubs—
Where real change could take root, if properly supported and resourced.
Working With What’s Available, Expanding What’s Possible
Rather than waiting for institutions to fully transform or for mass systemic change to be handed down,
we start with what’s available—the willing people, the curious minds, the small openings.
We begin with the spaces already open to growth:
The teachers, workplaces, and community leaders who are ready to expand their view.
From the narrow line of "this is how it’s always been"...
To a multi-cornered shape—where different truths, roles, and complexities are allowed to coexist.
And eventually, if nurtured well,
That shape softens further—becoming a circle, an oval, or something entirely fluid.
Something capable of holding the full spectrum of human experience.
Because this is what’s required to truly nurture humanity:
Not just a change in policy, but a change in perception—
From fixed lines to living, breathing systems that flex, respond, and adapt.
A Final Call: If We Can Teach Recycling, We Can Teach This
If we know that long-term social change is best achieved through education—
If we can teach children the importance of recycling, of road or sun safety,
And embed those messages over 15 years of schooling…
Why do we not do the same for domestic violence awareness?
Why do we not teach and practise the small, everyday responses to disrespect, manipulation, aggression, or control?
Why don’t we scaffold language for consent, boundary-setting, or help-seeking in the same way we teach reading and numeracy?
If prevention is possible—and we know it is—
Then why aren’t we weaving it into the fabric of childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood?
We can’t expect people to respond to a crisis
If we’ve never shown them what to do at the first signs of threat.
