Say Nothing Often by Owen

Say Nothing Often by Owen - May 2015 Scholarship Essay

For as long as I can remember, my dad has had a quote hanging on his office wall that reads, “Say nothing often.” Whenever I went into his office (usually to mooch candy off his desk) I read that quote and became confused. I wasn’t really familiar with paradoxes at a young age. Even when I could grasp what the saying meant, I still didn’t like it. “Why be quiet when you have things to share?” I would always say. My dad just shook his head and told me like dads always do, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”
Now I’m older. Now I understand, all thanks to my classmates.
I was in American Literature, and our curriculum had brought us to an article about Marcin Jakubowski, the founder of Open Source Ecology. We had read the article for homework and were tasked with comparing Jakubowski to Emerson and Thoreau (whom we had read earlier). In general, classes went like this: our teacher, Mr. Schott would wait outside until after the bell rang, and when he came in a few minutes later he expected us to be discussing that day’s reading. This forced us as students to initiate conversation. Our class had a few people who were good at getting the discussion off and running, but sometimes they decided not to, and I took it upon myself to be the de facto leader of the conversation. The discussion we were having about Jakubowski was no different. We were all talking pretty freely, offering opinions on how Jakubowski compared to the founders of transcendentalism and I thought the dynamic of the conversation was going really well. I was contributing often and keeping the discourse alive.
Pretty soon however, I came to a harsh realization: I didn’t really believe what I was saying. Every time a thought came to my head I just said it. I was filling the quiet with words but the words weren’t meaningful. I jumped to conclusions; I criticized without worry; I spoke freely - too freely. It was obvious from my peers’ distracted expressions that they didn’t really care about what I was saying; it was “just Owen saying something again.” After one especially pointed criticism about Jakubowski’s use of the internet, I just decided to shut up. For the next half hour or so I simply listened. My classmates kept the conversation rolling. As I sat there, I realized that now I was actually listening to what they were saying, instead of just hearing their words as I waited my turn to get my two cents in. While I listened to everyone else’s contributions, I carefully formulated a real opinion, one I actually believed. When the right time came, I shared it. “All this talk about self-reliance and independence and doing things your own way because you don’t need society to tell you what to do sounds great, but I’ve realized that I reject it. If each of us is self-reliant as Emerson and Thoreau say, and Jakubowski demonstrates, then what is the point of society? Here at Seacrest we pride ourselves on being a community, but if we are all individuals and capable of doing things on our own, then what good does community do?” I was extremely proud of what I said, and it was evident through their thoughtful expressions that my peers saw this as profound. I still hold that belief today. Community is what makes life valuable so why strive for total self-reliance?
From that point on, not only in American Literature but in every other class, I dedicated myself to being more quiet and contemplative. Through their bored expressions while I spoke, my peers indirectly taught me that I was saying too much. I finally understood and put to use the quote that my dad had hanging on his office wall; I had acquired the will to “say nothing often.” I saw immediate results: my comments were clearer, deeper, and, most importantly, more reflective of my beliefs.