Alternative Liberties:
Thoughts on “Seen and Not Heard” by
Tera Schreiber
What happens when a child has a gift that does not meet with Society’s expectations? What if she exceeds norms in a way that makes her rigid community uncomfortable, but then she demonstrates the gift in a way that upholds justice or betters their lives?
A fairytale, of course. The “Happily Ever After” seems close at hand.
Not in a world of dystopia, though. Tera Schreiber, a writer who has a knack for transforming fairy tales into more nuanced stories, contributed her voice with a story called “Seen and Not Heard” in an anthology entitled Alternative Liberties. The anthology is a collection of creative writers who express their grief and hope in a dystopian Trumped-up America after he took office in January 2025.
“Seen and Not Heard” tells the story of Grace, a young girl with the gift of vocalizing in many forms—chatting, laughing, and singing. Tera draws the reader in with a singsong tone, belying Grace’s circumstances. Grace is a joyful child who babbles without pause. However, Grace has been born into a Society where women do not talk or express themselves without permission from the men who control them. Her mother tries to shush Grace and to discourage her chatty ways. However, Grace has an effervescent enthusiasm to express herself that cannot be dimmed, unlike her compliant older sister. Her father, disappointed with only daughters, recognizes that he must teach them to conform appropriately to Society. As women, their role is to be subservient. Silent.
Grace eventually does suppress her voice in social settings. By age thirteen, though, she bursts with ideas, songs, and questions. She is not convinced that the silence she is forced into is right at all. She finds ways to express herself through writing – secretly in her room, and then in chalk on public walls – until her father’s explicit threat to “whoever is doing this” forces her to repress her bubbling expression.
All is not well in their church community for women who want to talk, either. When a woman named Prudence in the community dares to speak against the men and women’s slavish silence, they bludgeon, and bloody her. Grace is so distraught that she can’t hold back—she finally screams, “No!” However, her vocalization is considered dissent, and it’s too far. The consequences are horrific.
My suspension of disbelief broke. My gut recoiled. “No,” I thought. “That could never actually happen here. Even in Trump’s America.” But that thought gave me pause. What if Tera’s story purposefully brings us past the point of what is currently real to show the truth of what could be? Like any well-crafted story, it is true even if it is not literally true—yet.
What is true now is that in a psychological way, many conservative fundamentalist circles are like Grace’s Society. These women are not to speak in the presence of male authority. My alma mater college, which has ties to a Christian cult with a narcissist pastor at the helm, has been influential in Project 2025 and Christian Nationalism. In these churches, women cannot attend household meetings. Men rule the home. They make the decisions. They have discussions about abolishing women’s right to vote. In a room full of people, 50% were seen—and never heard.
In persistent attempts to achieve some catharsis from the cultlike experiences I have had in conservative fundamentalism, I listen to a podcast called “Sons of Patriarchy” where women tell their stories of pastors and elders abusing them psychologically in these denominations. These women stood before these male leaders, explaining the trauma they endured at the hands of their partners. The council of pastors and elders psychologically bludgeon these Prudences, threatening community death through ex-communication until they are silent or forgives their abusers. When she is ex-communicated, a woman’s “eulogy” is read in front of the congregation. They silence her. Cut her off from the only life and community she has known.
With how the Christian Nationalists have gained the upper hand and will certainly push these ideas, are we close to Tera’s story being the new reality? I don’t know. Tera shows the fierce joy and strength of a child—Grace—born helplessly into a moral structure that considers her less than a man and condemns her to a lifeless, expressionless life.
Perhaps the hope comes in that Grace was also a writer. Tera doesn’t show us the life beyond the horror of Grace’s circumstances. In my own attempt at hope, I imagine that Tera gives Grace a world where she still fights. Where she still expresses herself through writing—as Tera has done with her truth telling in story.
Bethany MW 