Finding Your Voice: Memorial Day Lessons from Ensign Tilly

The flags are flying half-staff today. Memorial Day always makes me think about courage – not just the extraordinary battlefield kind, but the everyday kind that changes the world in quieter ways.

Which brings me to Lieutenant Junior Grade Sylvia Tilly.

For those who haven't met her through Star Trek: Discovery, imagine the most brilliant scientific mind you know, wrapped in social anxiety, packaged with unfiltered enthusiasm, and topped with wild curly hair that seems to have a life of its own. Just like her thoughts.

When we first meet Tilly, she's constantly apologizing for simply existing. For taking up space. For having ideas. For breathing too loudly.

"Sorry, that wasn't very clever, was it?" became her accidental mantra.

If that sounds familiar, you're definitely in the right place.

We've all been right here.

On this Memorial Day, as I think about my father who served (thank you, Dad), I'm reminded that courage comes in many forms.

There's the breathtaking bravery of those who gave everything for our freedom. And then there's the quieter courage we need every day – the courage to speak up when our voice feels too small for the room.

Tilly had that second kind of courage. Beneath all that self-doubt was a mind that connected dots nobody else could see.

Her "weakness" – that stream-of-consciousness thinking that made her ramble – was actually her superpower.

Because when Tilly finally spoke up, she didn't just add to the conversation. She transformed it.

I see this same pattern with so many of you brilliant, creative souls. You hold back because:

• "Everyone else seems to know what they're doing"

• "My idea isn't fully formed yet"

• "Who am I to challenge the experts?"

• "I don't have the right credentials"

But what if – just what if – your fresh perspective is exactly what's missing?

The veterans we honor today served by stepping forward when called. In our own way, we serve by bringing our unique voice to the table – especially when it's scary.

Tilly's journey from constantly apologizing to eventually commanding wasn't overnight. It happened through:

• Finding one champion who saw her potential before she did (Who believes in you when you don't believe in yourself?)

• Speaking even when her voice shook (That first terrifying moment when she challenged a superior officer changed everything)

• Embracing her quirks instead of hiding them (Her rambling thought process became her signature problem-solving style)

• Remembering that fresh eyes see what experienced eyes overlook (Her "inexperience" was actually her advantage)

This Memorial Day, as we honor those who served with ultimate courage, I invite you to embrace your own form of bravery.

Where are you holding back your voice because the room feels too big or too smart? Where might your unique perspective be exactly what's needed?

Hit reply and let me know where you're finding the courage to speak up. I promise you're not alone in feeling small in big rooms.

After all, as Tilly eventually learned through her mentor's wisdom: "You'll say 'Excuse me,' but you aren't apologizing. You're clearing a path."

Your voice matters. Especially when it shakes.