Ever since I was young, I was taught that my voice matters, and more importantly, that my words hold power. I didn’t take these ideas to heart until my eighth grade year at Junior United Nations Assembly(JUNA), where I represented the country of Jamaica and presented a powerful speech along with my partner that (not to brag) left the room speechless and feeling empowered to make a change. The feeling I had leaving JUNA 2017 inspired me to start our own team here at Springs. Two years ago, we brought our first team to the conference and represented the country of Yemen. Our team’s resolution was to “end the ongoing war in Yemen and allow more effective humanitarian aid”. After JUNA 2019, it seemed like the situation in Yemen continued to devolve, or at least the state of the nation was increasingly brought to public attention. I wanted to be a hero, and I envisioned myself presenting an elaborate resolution to the United Nations on behalf of Yemen, but whenever I tried organizing fundraisers or petitions these ideas weren’t able to make it off the ground. This is when I began to reflect on the idea that my words hold power, which ultimately led me to write this piece. I hope that as you read this, you can feel the passion in every word I chose and that it inspires you to write about issues you too feel are important for the world to know. 

A mother’s cry can never be heard over the sounds of bombs or over the sounds of her toddler’s final breath 

Some say the explosions drown out her sorrows and the silence dries out her tears 

Others say she doesn’t cry at all because why cry for others when you yourself are at the brink of death

Who will be left to shed tears over your dead body? 

How did you get here when  you were alright just a decade ago?

A mother’s cry can never be heard over the thud of her feet or the pumps of her heartbeat as she flees her home 

They can never be heard at night when the howling moonlight won’t let her and her thoughts be alone 

She tries to imagine a world where she can eat 

But imagining the unimaginable is an impossible feat 

A mother’s cry can never be heard but that doesn’t mean it’s not there

She cries during the night and during the day 

She longs for the time when she has food to feed her children 

Because she knows it's a matter of days until they become another statistic

How many cries out there do we refuse to listen to?

Those of children, those of women, those of the civilians in the country of Yemen