The Noise That Raised Me

March 30, 2026

Writer: Reese Kizy

Editor: Charlie Zien

The loudness of all the other voices in the room I spent many of my afternoons in growing up is how I developed my own voice the most.

Every Sunday in that room was the same for as long as I could remember. My mom, dad, twin sister, and I attended mass at 11 am, then drove directly to my grandma’s house. All of my relatives were there, always arguing about sports, cooking, and most prominently, gossip about other families in our interconnected Middle Eastern community. No matter what was being discussed, it was loud. My uncle and cousin from across the room, my grandma and my aunt in the next, and usually a baby cousin wailing. The TV played the Tigers game in the summer, and the Lions around Thanksgiving and Christmas. We kept each other up-to-date on our lives, even things as simple as academic projects and upcoming events. No one would miss a small new development in each other’s lives. Our afternoons of talking and meaningless arguments were how we showed our care for one another. I would always sit in the middle of the family room with my little cousins and play Jenga while listening to the chaos around me. 

I think about these Sundays often. Growing up, I was constantly surrounded by my loud and outspoken relatives, so I hid my impressions to refrain from adding to the chaos.  Looking back, these memories bring me so much joy because I’m reminded of how close I felt to my family, all while saying nothing at all. I typically sat quietly and listened, but every so often, I would interject. My mom would often say, “Reese doesn’t say much, but when she does, it's something big!” I would only add to the loudness when I had something important to say, and when I did, I said it loud and clear. I liked that my family knew me as the quiet one, because in a way, it made me stand out among the loudness of everyone else. 

As a listener, I observe that almost every conversation could turn into an argument, and I don’t like that, even though in my family, they are about stupid things like who would get up to serve the chai, or which of that family’s siblings was marrying this other family’s son. There is always something to get into a meaningless dispute about, and there is always a reason to be loud. 

Coming to such a big University like Michigan has furthered my understanding that there are so many different voices in the world, and none are ever truly alike. Especially in the age of social media, with everyone constantly putting their ideas out there and speaking their mind with so much confidence, how can we not be surrounded by noise all the time? I often feel overwhelmed by all the differences in our world, and unsure how my voice can really stand out. But sitting amongst all the noise is how I have learned to be careful with what I say, in order to ensure that it counts.

Sometimes, the only point in arguing is to raise the volume. My afternoons at my grandma's house taught me that it is what you choose to say that matters. No matter how loud the world is, there is always a way to stand out, and it may be by just saying nothing at all.