Getting Started and Finding My Voice
This is my journey of finding my voice in a society that silences women, starting with my mother's subtle but unsuccessful rebellion.
How do you bring an idea to life if your passions are silenced?
Dedicated to my mom.
My mom was born in 1929, when women weren't known for having their voices heard.
While she was no exception, she did find a way to express herself through music.
My mom was an extremely accomplished violinist, and she used her music career to forge a different path from most women in those days.
She left home and got a degree in music. She got a sexy little sports car and traveled even further away to work. She supported herself — and, I dare say — had quite a bit of fun along the way.
She met my dad when she was 28 and he was a 39-year-old divorcee with a teenage daughter — scandalous! — and they quickly had my sister and me. She was very late starting a family in that era.
Even though she was late to motherhood by 1960 standards, she was a pretty hip mom. Cat-eye glasses, capri pants, two-piece bathing suits, a musician, and actor in the community theater. She also made a mean batch of peanut butter cookies.
But she was also pathologically non-confrontational. It came with the territory. Her favorite motto:
"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."
Finding My Voice
Growing up as a girl in the 1960s, I wasn’t much better off than my mom.
I, too, was quiet and obedient. My natural gift — and favorite pastime — was watching people.
In school, I was the ideal because of my quietness and ability to go with the flow. And of course, not saying anything if I didn't have anything nice to say
So when did I find my voice, and how?
In high school, I met a young man who became my partner for 10 years and the father of my first two children.
He exposed me to information about the African diaspora.
He introduced me to Malcolm X, Stokely Carmichael, Marcus Garvey, and other incredible voices of Black activists of the day.
I was assigned a book report in my history class: choose a historical figure and prepare a presentation on them for the class.
I chose Harriet Tubman.
Says Who?
"She’s not a historical figure," my history teacher said.
"Yeah, she is," I argued. I had started to find my voice and was determined to share the new information I was learning about.
I had that opportunity at dinner one night with my family. My dad was discussing something he'd seen on the news and said presidents should always be revered.
Jabbing my finger, I shouted, "No, they don’t! Did you know Thomas Jefferson owned slaves?!"
My dad looked at me...and started laughing.
He thought that my passion was amusing, or frivolous. Like a plaything.
I lost my voice.
But I know now that when you silence people, their words, thoughts, and ideas don't go away.
They just go inside. Underground. Like Harriet.
Feeding the Monster
Inside, those ideas often gestate into new forms; they grow and evolve. Sometimes, they sleep for so long they die. But often, they’re just biding their time, feeding off the bile and getting stronger.
For me, that silencing is when my body went looking for a microphone, for a way to express what was gestating inside of me, to amplify the injustices that I'd been seeing since I was a five-year-old kid.
I fed my monster feminist literature and books by Black authors like James Baldwin, Richard Wright, and Ntozake Shange. I feasted off these voices who had such important things to say.
I can’t believe we’re still debating the truth of their voices today.
While expanding my ideas and finding my voice, something else was growing inside of me — strong desire to be a mother.
On My Terms
I’d wanted to be a mother — like seriously wanted to have a baby — since I was 14. I graduated when I was 16, went to art school (the way I’d found to express myself, even though I didn't know that’s what I was doing), got a job, turned 18, and said, “Okay, now I’m old enough to have a baby.”
Because of the reading I'd been doing by activists and feminists, I decided I would have my baby at home.
It was 1979, and homebirth was less popular than it is now (about 1% of people give birth out of the hospital today). But I persevered and found midwives. Our son was born just before noon on a sunny day in June 1980 in the upstairs bedroom of our apartment, surrounded by 5 midwives, our moms, my best friend, and my partner’s little sister.
That picture above is the moment I got started as a doula. That is when I felt the passion for what I do today.
I had no idea how transforming the experience of birth would be. At that moment, I felt I could do anything, an experience that has served me well for the rest of my life. Anytime I'm in a predicament or question my ability to accomplish something, endure something, or figure something out, I remember that I made a human being and brought him into the world on my terms.
Immediately, I wanted to bring that same sense of empowerment my midwives gave me to others. They believed in me long before I did and planted a seed that took 20 years to grow.
My Biggest Fan
In 2000, I heard about doulas. In 2001, I became one. By 2004, I was training doulas.
My mom attended a few hours of one of my doula trainings to see me “in action.” At the end, she stood up and said, "You may not believe this, but my little Carrie used to be the quietest little girl. She never had anything to say. She'd never cause any problems. So when I see her standing up here today, totally in her element, so articulate and knowledgeable, she has found her voice. And I am so proud."
I was pretty damn proud, too.
The next year, I was invited to speak about the benefits of doulas to medical students at Oregon Health Sciences University. The lecture was on my mom's birthday, so I took her to Portland with me.
The auditorium was filled with hundreds of medical students. And there was my mom in the front row. I think she would have been beaming if she wasn’t so gobsmacked. How could her “quiet, little Carrie” be standing here in front of medical students and teaching them about doulas?"
My mom was my biggest fan, telling all her friends about doulas and talking to anyone who’d listen about the benefits of having a doula. She also seemed to attract doulas to her, striking up a conversation with a stranger and finding out within a few sentences that they were a doula.
"Do you know my daughter, Carrie Kenner?"
"Yeah, she was my trainer.” Or “Oh yes, I know her very well."
My mom couldn't wait to call and tell me about the newest doula she had run into or the latest doula convert she had made.
So my mom believed in me — even when my dad laughed at me — and she supported me in finding my voice.
The Art of Manifesting
I am known for my ability to manifest things. So I want to tell you about the process I use to bring an idea into existence.
It always starts with just a thought.
I had an idea about a book report that I wanted to write.
I imagined becoming a mother.
I dreamt about helping people find empowerment through birth.
These are all just concepts, stuff in the mind, nothing tangible.
But when you work with those thoughts, more clearly-formed ideas come.
Then, you must speak them out loud. Saying your ideas — to another person, the universe, or a non-human — activates them. This is the difference between a prayer you say in your head and one that is spoken. When you put your ideas to words, their energy starts to coalesce and spread. You honor them with your breath and tongue.
Then, the words become action. The energy of the idea has transformed from thought, to word, to becoming embodied. Now, you’re doing something with it, making it tangible, bringing it to life.
Every time you speak your intention, every time you honor it with action, you are calling in the universe to assist you. You aren’t doing it alone; you’re working with all these other energies to turn your notion, this passion, into something beautiful in your life.
When were the moments that a seed was planted in you that turned into something huge, impactful, meaningful, and defining for you?
We must grab onto those moments, even when we don't know where they'll take us.
When I was sitting there holding my newborn baby, I wasn't thinking, "I'm gonna be a doula someday and I’m going to train doulas and become a business coach for doulas."
All I knew was: I could do anything.
This is my first vlog of 2024, and I wanted to start at this place of beginnings, the place of finding the seeds that were planted long ago. I want to weave together the enduring quest for birthing ourselves, manifesting our passions, navigating societal challenges, and finding self-expression and empowerment in our lives.
I’ll be exploring these themes over the next few months. I hope you'll come along with me.
