This poem says it all.
"When a woman's voice becomes stadium-sized becomes the squealing breaks of an 18-wheeler becomes bomb blasts, chainsaws, and jackhammers going off simultaneously, shaking the walls because no one has been listening to her
take her hand, like worship as attentive as ensuring the delicate edges of molasses cookies do not burn as alertly as staying in your lane at high speed in heavy traffic, during a rainstorm, at night
receive her words like jeweled beads on silk and embroider them into your mind study and caress them brush away her tears of rage until you hear every meaning her words contain then recite them like a poem back to her sketch them onto bars of music until they make a melody, paint them into hieroglyphics upon your heart cup them like water from a stream and drink until your throat aches for more"
- Stephanie A Sellers, We'Moon