Last weekend I was in Nashville attending a board retreat for a non-profit. On Sunday afternoon, I shared a taxi to the airport with two other board members. As soon as we got into the taxi, the driver started talking a mile a minute, talking about himself and punctuating every couple sentences with “seriously” and “no kidding, ladies.” I smiled at “L” the person sitting next to me and was secretly happy I wasn’t “P,” the “lucky woman” who was sitting up front in the passenger seat next to the loquacious drive.

“P” and I got out at the airport together. I said something about the taxi driver being a talker. P responds “My kids would have told me to stop asking question.” Then she paused and said “I think some people just want to be heard…in all these years there has never been a time when I didn’t learn something.” Then we said goodbye and went to on our way to our respective gates.

But her words had me rooted back in that moment. What she said was so simple and so powerful. “Some people just want to be heard.” I was humbled.

I started to think about who gets heard. And it made me think about the upcoming Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday and what it represents. Part of King’s importance was that he was an amplified voice for so many others who were not heard. He was the voice of those oppressed by our country’s long history of racism, segregation and Jim Crow. His voice was really the fervent chorus of thousands, and through him, an entire movement was heard. And that voice continues to echo today – continuing to remind us of the meaning and importance of the Civil Rights Movement.

But who are the people who are not heard today, even through a representative voice? In our country (and certainly the world) there are so many people and groups who, no matter how loud they raise their voice, are not heard. People ignored because they lack the agency of voice. People dismissed because of race, class, status, sexual orientation, gender identity, ability, religion, age or other aspects of their identity. People we choose not to hear.

We know that there absolutely is power in being heard. There is also power in truly hearing.

There are so many obstacles in our society and in our lives which interfere with listening. The constant, dismissive accusation that anyone who tries to address race in the public sphere is playing “the race card” stops us from hearing. The ubiquitous use of “media round tables” where everyone stakes out a side instead of putting stake in dialogue stops us from hearing. A media driven by profit, instead of human interest, and that chooses what is deemed as “noise” and what is worthy or attention, keeps us from hearing. The equation of money with power in politics prevents us from hearing. Our own hubris and privilege, which interferes with human connection, also interferes with our ability to hear. The absence of empathy shuts out the voices we most need to hear.

So, this Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I share the simple, powerful wisdom of my colleague “P” and ask: who will you hear and whose voice will we collectively demand be given agency and amplification?

For my part, as a starting point,

I will hear the anger expressed by my friend and colleague, Jason, who is fiscally impacted every pay check by a federally-codified discrimination (Defense of Marriage Act) which says that, as a gay man, he must be taxed for the privilege of providing his partner with medical insurance while straight couples are not. I honor his voice and recognize the daily impact of inequality.

I will hear the pleas of the high school student, Cesiah Trejo, who spoke at a press conference for the ASSET bill on Tuesday. Cesiah has lived in Colorado since she was a young child and cannot fulfill her dream of attending college, because she is undocumented. I will honor her voice and raise my own to pass the ASSET bill in Colorado and the DREAM Act nationally.

I will hear the choked voice of young men of color trapped in devastating mass incarceration policies resulting in African Americans being imprisoned at nearly six times the rate of whites, and Latinos at nearly double the rate.

I will hear the stories of a taxi driver in Nashville who immigrated to the United States in the seventies and wants to be heard. I will honor his voice by asking you to do the same.