My relationship with the Religious Society of Friends—better known as the Quakers, or simply “Friends”—was formed very early. It was three generations ago when my grandfather attended William Penn Charter School in Philadelphia, the oldest Quaker school in the world. My parents continued the tradition by enrolling me in a Quaker school during my early years, and today my family and I attend the Minneapolis Friends Meeting.

 

With the Quaker population shrinking and misconceptions growing, I often feel called to share what Quaker life actually feels like. I’m far from an expert, but I do stand (or, sit in silence) firmly in my Quaker education roots as I grow into my teen years and beyond.

For me, the heart of Quakerism is simple yet powerful—the belief that “there is that of God in everyone.” This belief means that how we treat and support other people is how we interact with God. This belief challenges me to always see the best in everyone – as Quakers would say, to see their “inner light” - even when we disagree. It is often in that tension, and in the quiet that follows, that truth becomes clearer. Although I’ll admit, my first reaction is often to jump in with my own opinion. Patience and silence can be learned skills, ones I’m still practicing myself.

 

That sense of equality shapes how Quakers worship. There’s no clergy, no ornate altar, no hierarchy. Friends sit in a circle, facing one another, equal in every sense. Meetings for Worship unfold mostly in shared silence—a deep community of listening—where anyone can rise to speak if they feel called to do so.  Sometimes a spark of insight is shared, sometimes the silence itself is the message. Meetings often close with a simple handshake, an understated gesture of respect and unity.

 

Silence isn’t something teenagers experience very often. My world hums with pings, dings, locker doors, and social media notifications, layered with the buzz of expectations, anxiety, and hope. After long days filled with classes, chores, and sports, my favorite moment comes when I can finally close my door, exhale, and hear… nothing. In that calm, my thoughts wander freely, sorting through the day’s highs and lows. In that quiet, I rediscover joy, reflection, and peace—even on the most hectic days.

 

That love of silence began in my earliest Quaker school days. The youngest children may only last a few minutes, but with a bit of practice, it is common for silence to last 30 minutes or more. Like the ocean, quiet sustains life in unseen ways—fragile and beautiful, yet powerful beyond measure. Quaker values and stillness have fueled waves of social change. Friends were early advocates for women’s rights, leaders in the Underground Railroad to fight slavery, and among the first to demand fair treatment for Native Americans. Quakers have a long history of supporting refugees and recently marched peacefully from New York City to the US Capitol building in Washington, D.C., to protest immigration reform.  Their commitment to peace and justice even earned the American Friends Service Committee a Nobel Peace Prize.

 

That spirit of reflection also pushes me to act. During one such quiet moment last year, I asked myself, Am I making the world—or even my place in it—better? That question inspired me to sponsor and welcome a refugee family, including two adults and two teenage girls like myself, to Minnesota. I learned from their stories and traditions and helped them navigate serious challenges. I saw firsthand how compassion can cross languages and borders. The experience deepened my understanding of equality and service—two main testimonies that guide Quaker life—and reminded me that stillness often precedes the most meaningful movement.

 

While some might think of Quakers as “bland,” like their namesake oats, I can assure you that Quaker life is anything but. It’s full of spice—rooted in six powerful ingredients known as the SPICES testimonies:

 

The strength of Quakerism doesn’t come from glittering gold or beautiful ballads, it comes from simplicity and stillness. From listening and believing it’s your place to make the world brighter. From recognizing that every person carries a beautiful light worth noticing.  Maybe that’s the real secret: Quaker life isn’t plain at all. It’s quietly, beautifully bold—the true SPICE of life.  Inspired by the call of silence?  Check out the Minneapolis Society of Friends or QuakerlyYours, my teen testimony Instagram page.