The Bridging Voice
We rarely stop to consider this, but every time we say we, we draw a boundary. For there to be a “we,” there must be someone outside it.
The Fluid Voice is materializing.
What was once undefined, soft-shaped, and blurry-edged is becoming more distinct. Moving from abstract shadows into the shape of a body.
The Architecture
The first two pillars of The Fluid Voice, The Inner Voice and The Embodied Voice, are foundational. They concern the inner landscape, mind, and body.
The next two, The Protective Voice and The Kinship Voice, are relational. They shape how we meet others: how we protect our integrity in hard moments, and how we extend care beyond our closest circles.
Today, we arrive at the fifth pillar: The Bridging Voice. At first, I considered blending this with Kinship. But I realized the distinction matters. Kinship is a mindset, a way of perceiving others. The Bridging Voice is more practical. It shows up in language. In writing. In the words we choose when we speak publicly.
A quick reminder: The Fluid Voice is built on deeply human skills we all have access to. Think of it as an archetype, a symbolic figure that embodies the many facets of a grounded, conscious, and connected human being.
The Power of “We”
Years ago, while studying critical discourse analysis, the field that examines how language, power, and ideology intertwine, I compared two speeches:
Barack Obama on Osama bin Laden
Donald Trump on Qasem Soleimani
I analyzed how both linguistically justified the killing of enemy combatants abroad, paying particular attention to their use of the first-person plural pronoun: “we.”
One conclusion stood out.
Obama used “we” to create national unity and a positive collective identity, especially in the shadow of 9/11.
We are together in this.
Trump used “we” to signal military strength and resolve.
We, against the enemy.
Same word.
Different worlds.
It turns out the pronoun “we” is remarkably elastic. It stretches to fit the worldview we want to convey. Like kinship, it can expand, wide enough to include people we don’t automatically hold close. Or it can contract, excluding those we once considered part of us.
As in: no longer kin.
When “We” Becomes a Weapon
When we speak, we don’t just describe reality. We set the frame for what feels possible, acceptable, or justified next.
We rarely stop to consider this, but every time we say we, we draw a boundary.
For there to be a “we,” there must be someone outside it.
Examples:
Corporate layoffs, where leadership says, “We’re restructuring for the future,” while hundreds of people realize they are no longer part of that “we.”
Communities that divide when belonging is defined by purity rather than participation: ”We who’ve been here from the start” versus “the newcomers.”
Families, where one sentence, “We’ve decided it’s best if you don’t come for the holidays”, sever decades of belonging.
The pattern is always the same: Someone draws a circle, someone else discovers they’re standing outside it, and the wound runs deep.
A Small Story About Being Cast Out
I recall a moment from my youth, teenage drama, perhaps, but the sting was real.
A friend of mine was upset with a mutual friend. They had gone to a gathering and planned to leave together. At the event, the mutual friend met her crush and decided to stay.
As my friend was preparing to leave alone, the mutual friend said:
“We can walk you to the car.”
(It was parked several blocks away.)
My friend told me later:
“We went together. We were supposed to leave together. What hurt most was that ”we.”
She didn’t need to finish her thought. Being excluded from “we”, even in small ways, touches something primal. Once, our survival depended on staying inside the group. To be cast out meant danger.
The Questions We Should Ask
Before we use we, in writing, speeches, leadership communication, or public discourse, we should pause and ask:
Whom am I including?
Whom am I excluding?
Is this exclusion intentional or unconscious?
What is the cost of this particular “we”? Am I building a bridge, or drawing a battle line?
Yes,
Sometimes exclusion is necessary.
Sometimes it’s strategic.
But sometimes it’s accidental and harmful.
The skill is knowing the difference.
Here’s a Simple Practice: Listening for “We”
Over the next few days, try this small exercise. It requires no preparation, just attention.
Step 1: Notice
As you read, listen, or speak, pay attention to every time the word “we” appears.
This could be:
in a meeting
in a post or article
in a political speech
in a family conversation
in your own writing
Don’t analyze yet, just notice.
Step 2: Ask One Question
Each time you hear or use we, ask yourself:
Who is included here, and who is not?
That’s it.
No judgment. No correction. Just awareness.
Building “We” Is a Practice
It´s not a rule, not a formula, or something you master once and move on from. It’s an ongoing awareness of how your words create circles and who you invite in.
If you are a public voice, a writer, speaker, leader, or community-builder, this matters more than you think.
Because every time you say we, you are either opening a door or closing one.
Don’t miss the next chapter! Join We Speak Human.
Until next time! Paulina Martinez