A Stranger's Kindness

                I had a minor panic episode this morning while walking to a doctor’s appointment.  I was crossing an intersection when a car drove by, the driver yelling something at me.  I jumped in fear; my heart constricted and my lungs contracted as a wave of dizziness washed over me.  My body froze as I stood on the sidewalk waiting to return to a state of equilibrium. 

A crossing-guard noticed my reaction and asked if I was okay.  Without much forethought or conscious effort, I found myself telling this concerned stranger all about my accident and my fear.   Two years ago, I was hit by an elderly driver while walking across the street.  I was on the crosswalk with two other pedestrians – the driver drove up onto the median and hit all of us.  I was the first person to get hit – my head went through the windshield, leaving me with a mild traumatic brain injury and a laceration above my right eye that required 100+ stitches and missed slicing my eye by less than a millimeter.  The crossing-guard was sympathetic – she listened to the babbling of a stranger with patience, her face a mirror of empathy. 

I explained to the kind woman that my life at the moment is about balancing my fears – I panic at the sight of on-coming cars, which leaves me with the option of either panicking while driving or panicking while walking.  A few months ago, when I was trying to drive again, I was almost hit by another driver.  I came very close to blacking out from the incident, which has left me with a deep-seated fear of causing a car accident from my anxieties.  At this point in time, I choose to face my fears while walking.  At the very least, I can stand on the sidewalk until my fear subsides. 

In return, the woman told me about her fear of driving – she was rear-ended last year.  Now whenever she sees a car behind her, she is anxious that she will get hit from behind again.  I told her I was sorry to hear about her accident and we commiserated about Houston traffic.  She told me I was strong, which brought me to the point of tears – I do not feel like a strong woman.  We talked for another ten minutes, about life and marriage and family, before I had to leave to make my doctor’s appointment.  I thanked her and said good-bye. 

I wish I had given her a hug.  Or told her just how much her sympathy meant to me.  

Labels And Language

Post-Mormon.  Ex-Mormon.  Agnostic.  Atheist.  Humanist.  Feminist. 

            These are all labels that I have used to describe myself at one time or another.  When asked to define my religious beliefs, the long answer is that I am an agnostic atheist humanist with strong feminist and egalitarian ideals.  For a short answer, I reply either humanist or agnostic, depending on my current frame of mind.  I choose to define myself as a post-Mormon, as I feel the term implies a less negative connotation than ex-Mormon, although ex is also an accurate descriptor.  Sometimes others will describe me as an “anti”-Mormon, although I do not consider myself to be such.

            In science, language has to be precise.  The first important example I was taught – in an introductory developmental biology class – was the difference between cell fate specification and determination.  During the course of embryonic development, cells adopt certain fates – this is how an entire complex organism develops from a single fertilized egg.  During the course of development, cells go from an undifferentiated state to adopting specific fates.  This is how muscle cells, neurons, epidermal cells, and everything in-between develop to form an entire complex organism.  This is what makes developmental biology – and life – so beautiful and fascinating.   

There are two specific stages of differentiation – specification and determination.  A cell that is specified will develop autonomously if placed in a neutral environment such as a petri dish.  If a specified cell is placed in an environment with conflicting differentiation signals, then this cell will adopt an alternative fate based on the signals received.  Specification is a stage that is still labile.  Cell-fate determination is more fixed; the cell will adopt the same fate even if placed in an environment with conflicting signals.  Many of the classic developmental biology studies involved cutting pieces of a developing organism and transplanting from one area of the embryo to another in order to study how development was affected.  As differentiation progressed from specified to determined, the organisms that developed from these experiments became weirder and weirder.  The classic example – performed by Hilde Mangold in the 1920’s – involved transplanting an area known as the dorsal lip region and resulted in the development of secondary body axes in frog embryos. 

Spemann-Mangold Dorsal Lip Transplantation Experiment

Precise language is important in all areas of life.  Imprecise language can lead to fights and to confusion when communicating complex ideas.  Although I do label myself as an agnostic atheist humanist with strong feminist and egalitarian ideals, there are still many examples where the use of labels can hurt rather than help.  The label may be innocent enough – feminism is defined as “the doctrine advocating social, political, and all other rights equal to men – but the emotions associated with the feminist label can be quite negative.  I know my personal definition of the labels I use to describe myself – do others define these labels in the same manner that I do?  When other people use labels to describe themselves, is my understanding the same as theirs? 

 This illustration of the famous dorsal lip transplantation experiments, as performed by Hilde Mangold, was taken from Gilbert's "Development Biology" textbook, 6th edition, which can be accessed publicly at http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK9983/   The exact figure used can be accessed at http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK10101/figure/A2302/?report=objectonly

Note: This is an experimental post on my behalf - I would love to hear feedback on how effectively I was able to communicate the biology concept, as I am pretty inexperienced talking about biology to a general audience.  If the example is too arcane or poorly explained, please don't hesitate to give feedback.   

Mormon Urban Legends

            When I was fourteen, I attended a Mormon youth program called “Especially For Youth”, which was a week-long activity meant to inspire and motivate the youth of the church.  The week was filled with talks, activities, and testimony meetings.  Every night, the girls in my group gathered together for a spiritual thought before heading to bed.  Towards the end of the week, my counselor Laura* gave us all a piece of paper with the following message:

You were in the War in Heaven and one day when you are in the spirit world you will be enthralled with those who you are associated with. You will ask someone in which time period he lived in and you might hear, "I was with Moses when he parted the Red Sea," or "I helped build the pyramids," or "I fought with Captain Moroni." And as you are standing there in amazement, someone will turn to you and ask, "Which prophet time did you live in?" And when you say "Gordon B. Hinckley," a hush will fall over every hall, every corridor in heaven and all in attendance will bow at your presence. You were held back six thousand years because you were the most talented, most obedient, most courageous, and most righteous. Are you still? Remember who you are!

            I felt very solemn when I read this slip of paper – I had a great destiny to fulfill.  I didn’t feel more faithful, but here was an adult telling us that we had been saved for a special purpose.  I was both uncomfortable with the idea of having been more faithful in the pre-existence and sad that my youthful levity meant I was failing at the great destiny that was expected of me.  

 A few years later, I discovered that this statement was in fact an urban legend.  In the meantime, I heard this quote from multiple sources – we were special, we had a great destiny, we had been the elect spirits who had been saved for the latter-days for some great purpose.  This quote was repeated by teens and adults alike with all of the solemnity of gospel-truth.  I was grateful when I heard this quote was false, as I was uncomfortable with the implied superiority of this statement. But discovering this quote was false also went a long way towards increasing my cynicism about Mormon culture. 

In 2008 – nine years after I first heard this quote - the Mormon Church issued an official statement denouncing the falsity of this statement.  But when I first heard this quote, I believed.  I believed that I had been saved for a special purpose – and I felt like a failure for not living up to my destiny. 

Note: After posting this, people were nice enough to point out that the truth was a little more complicated than I had thought.  For a more in-depth discussion, I would recommend reading this follow-up post.

Exciting News!

I just wanted to write and say that my piece on Mormon weddings was just picked up by the site BlogHer - if you are interested, go and check it out!  

Update: Sweet Land Of Bigamy

The book "Sweet Land of Bigamy", which I reviewed previously, is having a sale this week on Amazon - the Kindle version is available for only $2.99.  If you haven't read it yet, I would highly recommend giving it a try!

Book Review: Book Of Mormon Girl

          In the first chapter of her book, Joanna Brooks writes

          "I grew up in a world where all the stories I heard arrive at the same conclusions: the wayfarer restored, the sick healed, the lost keys found, a singular truth confirmed. And an orthodox Mormon story is the only kind of story I ever wanted to tell.

          But these are not the kinds of story life has given me."

          I bought this book because I was curious. My life story is an echo of Joanna's -- I was raised in a staunch Mormon family, the youngest of seven children.  I bought this book because I wanted to understand the perspective of someone who is similar to me yet chose a very different path in life.  I wanted to understand how the author balances her personal beliefs with the beliefs of her family's faith. I too struggle to balance the love I have for my family with my reservations concerning the Mormon Church’s actions.

          Joanna devotes a lot of time to her childhood and the security she felt growing up in such a strong religious tradition.  Joanna grew up in the cozy cocoon of California Mormonism, with parents that were strict but loving.  As a child, she thought of herself as a root beer among cokes - a reference to the Mormon practice of avoiding caffeinated sodas.  There are hints of the turmoil that would come later, hints of dissonance between her personal convictions and the teachings of the Mormon church. But mostly, she concentrates on the happy memories. There is a saccharine quality to her recounting, a need to present her childhood as being the orthodox Mormon story.

          Then she very abruptly shifts to a period of turmoil. There isn't much segue from her recounting of a happy childhood to the disillusionment of adulthood. Her recounting of the excommunications of prominent intellectuals --- the September Six --- came across as very rote. There was a lot of heartache bundled up into just a few terse pages. Her battle with the controversy surrounding Prop 8 was more vivid, although there was still only a limited explanation of how the author dealt with the turmoil.

          At the end of reading this book, my questions were still unanswered -- I still don't understand how the author deals with the dissonance between her faith and her personal convictions. The author displays an enormous amount of pride in her Mormon heritage, which is something I understand.  However, she is hesitant to tackle the full issues; I still don't understand how the author has managed to reconcile her convictions with the actions of the Mormon church.  

          I read this book about six months ago and ever since reading it, I have thought a lot about what this book is trying to accomplish and what the ramifications may be.  I find that my thoughts on this book are bittersweet.  My mother is a Democrat Mormon, similar to Joanna.  My mother is very quiet about her convictions; since my mother doesn’t speak up, her open-minded and tolerant approach to religion remains unheard.  I am grateful to women like Joanna who have the courage to speak up and say that they don’t support some of the actions of the Mormon Church.  

          There is also the very pressing reality of the Mormon Church’s actions.  Prop 8 hurt a lot of innocent people who didn’t deserve to have their rights taken away from them.  Mormon authorities has also taken strict disciplinary action against non-conformists within the church.  During Joanna’s time at BYU, Mormon authorities excommunicated six prominent Mormon intellectuals, known as the September Six.  Now we are at a point where mainstream America is focusing on Mormonism.  The Mormon Church has responded by running an expensive ad campaign that highlights groups of people that are often marginalized at church - the minorities, the liberals, the career women.  The cynic in me thinks that Joanna Brooks is allowed to remain within the confines of Mormonism because she provides good PR at a time when the Mormon Church is desperate for a better image.  The true test of the Mormon Church will come after the spotlight is removed - will this new tolerance continue or not?  

          In spite of these reservations, I do think this book serves an important role.  This book is a reminder that there are a lot of good-hearted Mormons out there who don’t agree with everything the authorities say.  My suspicion is that there are more of these members than we realize.  One day, I hope these people feel comfortable speaking up.  I am grateful that Joanna has shown the courage to speak up.  

          I would recommend reading this book; however, the reader should understand that this story only scratches the surface.

Note: This review is of the first edition of this book.  When I contacted the author about any relevant changes, her answer was that the main narrative is the same, however, there have been about two chapters added, including one at the end.  

I Am A Feminist

          I am a feminist.  In this day and age, feminism is treated as a joke, an aberration, a word that conjures up the image of emasculating, bra-burning angry women who clamor for a world without men.  Feminist is used as an insult meant to brand a woman as being angry or hateful.  But militancy is not the soul of feminism.  Feminism is the conviction that women should be judged based on their accomplishments rather than their gender.  People should be allowed to explore and develop their own unique talents and when they do develop these talents, they should be rewarded in an egalitarian manner that has no bearing on gender.  

          I am not anti-marriage or anti-family.  I am not anti-man.  I have no objection to a woman staying at home to raise her children, just as I have no objection to a woman pursuing a career or forsaking marriage altogether, as long as these choices are independent of gender constraints.  I believe, in the deepest sense of the word, that people should be given the right to shape their own destiny and that gender should not be an obstacle to achieving dreams.  This belief defines who I am as a person.  

          With the recent cuts to Planned Parenthood, the fights over healthcare coverage of contraceptives, the attempts to restrict abortion rights, and the recent comment by Rep. Todd Akin that belittled the suffering of rape victims everywhere, I am feeling besieged.  I am watching as my beloved country slides backwards in terms of human rights and equality.  My body is not a political battlefield; my convictions should not be a source of ridicule or derision.  

          As a woman, my opinions are influenced by my own personal experiences; my experience is that of a woman’s.  But equality is a two-way street; I do not believe that men should be defined by their gender any more than women should.  My primary interest is in the unique talents of an individual, irrespective of whether these traits are in accordance with gender stereotypes or not.  Male, female, straight, gay, young, old, and everything in between - we all share a common bond of humanity that transcends labels.   

          The time has come to redefine what feminism means to our society at large.  And so, at this point in time, I would like to open this discussion to all of the wonderful people that have taken the time to read this post.  What does feminism - and equality - mean to you?