Mormon Control

              I have tried three times to have my name removed from the membership rolls of theChurch of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, more commonly called the Mormon Church, only to have my requests go ignored. Technically, I am still counted as a member, in spite of my strong agnosticism and sinful habits, such as my undying love for all things coffee.

              Last week the Mormon Church excommunicated Kate Kelly, who does believe in the Mormon faith. Her “sin” was to found an organization called Ordain Women, which called on the authorities to prayerfully consider the matter of granting women the priesthood. A mild request and one that would have made Mormonism a much friendlier religion. But Kelly was excommunicated, kicked out of the church that she loved so much.

              Kate Kelly wants nothing more than to remain a member of the Mormon Church. I want nothing more than to leave. Neither of us have had our wishes fulfilled. I have had authorities talk down to me, questioning my maturity and the wisdom of my decision. Kelly’s worthiness was discussed in a private meeting, which Kelly was not privy to, with an all-male board deciding that excommunication was necessary.

              One woman wants to stay in. Another woman wishes to leave. Neither of us have been granted what we desire. And in the middle is a church that seems desperate for control. Control over a pesky woman who dared asked for equal rights. Control over a pesky apostate who wants to leave.

              Perhaps it seems small. Kelly can continue to advocate for equal rights outside of Mormonism. I haven’t been to church in years. But the reality is that these actions create a long chain of undesirable reactions. Already Kelly has been branded a sinner, a troublemaker, by the simple act of excommunication. Everything she has worked for has been tainted by the label of apostasy. I, on the other hand, run the risk of being hunted down by the missionaries and local authorities. Within Mormonism, being hunted down is the norm, rather than the exception. When I have children, their names will be put on the membership rolls. When these children turn eight, there is a strong probability that the missionaries will turn up on my doorstep to convince my children that their eternal salvation rests on baptism. No parent wants a nineteen-year old kid telling their child that Mommy and Daddy are wrong and bound for hell. I could hope that the missionaries and church members would respect my rights as a parent – but I have seen members and missionaries overstep the boundaries a thousand times before, all in the name of religious zeal.

              I sincerely hope that Kate Kelly finds peace in moving forward. I have found my own peace, although it fluctuates at times. 

             But maybe the secret is in not letting the Mormon Church control us. I’ll find a way to get past my failed resignation attempts and see the manipulations of the Mormon Church for what it really is – the futile attempts of a church that is desperate to avoid facing its own impotence and irrelevance. 

Exhaustion and the Kate Kelly Excommunication

              Kate Kelly, leader of the “Ordain Women” group, was officially excommunicated from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, more commonly referred to as the Mormon Church. Kate Kelly is the leader of the Ordain Women group, which advocated for giving women the priesthood, which in the Mormon Church is a necessary prerequisite for any positions of authority. 

              To give you a little perspective on the issue, boys are given the Aaronic priesthood at the age of twelve. At sixteen, boys are granted the Melchezidek priesthood. Ultimately, holding the priesthood is a necessary prerequisite for any position of authority within the Mormon Church. There are a few women who hold offices – but even these leadership positions can be over-ridden at any point by the male authorities.

              When I was a young adolescent, I went to girls’ camp every summer. The camp was directed by women who had volunteered their time to organize and direct the camp. At the time, I never questioned the fact that there was always a male member of the priesthood present at camp. Sometimes the bishop, sometimes one of the counselors, there was always at least one male priesthood holder in residence. I didn’t realize that there was a policy that all-female must be chaperoned by a male priesthood holder. Church authorities – by definition male, by virtue of the priesthood exclusion on females – are allowed to sit in on any female meeting. The authorities are also allowed to over-ride any decision made by the few female leaders within the Mormon Church.

Kate Kelly, with her Ordain Women movement, was seeking to make Mormonism a friendlier, more egalitarian religion. But, as they have shown, the Mormon authorities are not ready for change. Once again, the Mormon Church is heading backwards.

Over the past week, as I have been watching as the Kate Kelly sage unfold, my predominant emotion has been exhaustion. I’m tired. I’m tired of my Mormon legacy, of having to deal with the inherent sexism that I grew up with, the inflexibility and obfuscation of Mormon leaders. The Mormon authorities don’t release their financial reports, aren’t honest about the unsavory aspects of their history, and continue to oppose any broadening of social rights. My Mormon past is an uncomfortable burden to bear. I wish that Kate Kelly had been granted the opportunity to make Mormonism a friendlier religion. But she wasn't and I'm no longer Mormon. 

Bicycle Art

Sometimes art is found in surprising places. I recently watched the documentary, "The Sea of Rock," that followed the mountain-bikers Harald Philipp and Thomas Ohler, as they attempted to bike the Sea of Rock in Austria. Watching these athletes, as they finessed their unwieldy looking bikes into navigating an impossible terrain, all I could think of was that this was its own form of art.

"The Sea of Rock" can be found on Youtube - it's about 15 minutes long and well worth the watch.

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

        There is a homeless man living at my local library.  I began piecing the clues together about a year ago: the rickety white sedan with a backseat stuffed with clothing that was always in the same parking spot, and the quiet man, dressed in clean but threadbare clothing, with swollen sandal-clad feet, who was at the library day after day.  One day, as the library closed, I saw this man walking slowly to the old white car and get in.  The pieces clicked together.

         I suppose, if you weren’t a regular at the library, you might never realize.  The neighborhood that my library is located in is extraordinarily wealthy.  I used to go for runs here, watching as vans full of gardeners and maids parked on the streets, entering the huge homes to work long hours so that the owners can return at the end of the day to a fairy-tale home.  And here, in the library, a homeless man is found, hidden from sight.  

Even now, I hesitate to write about this man, out of fear as to what might happen to him should people put together the pieces.  The way we treat the homeless in this country - criminalizing and stigmatizing people who are already down on their luck - says a lot about who we are as a nation.  There was also a homeless man that rode my morning bus, always getting on at the same spot and exiting at another.  In this case, I could identify him as homeless both by the sign he carried as well as the odor.  The others who rode the bus with me - most of whom had been riding the same bus for years - treated him with a certain wary distance.  No one said anything against him.  No one said anything to him. What I usually thought about was just how distressing it would be to go through life with no warm bed and no access to a proper bathroom. 

A few months ago, I read the book "Another Bullshit Night in Suck City  This memoir, which was later turned into the movie "Being Flynn," deals with the author's relationship with his father, who turned up at the homeless shelter he was working at.  Nick Flynn writes of the instability that pushed his father into homelessness, as well as the instability that he himself inherited from his father.  He also writes of simply working in a homeless shelter, as he sees all of the people that fall through the cracks of our society, whether by hard luck or illness.  

Empathy Pizza

         On Saturday, I attended a mandatory training session for my teacher certification program. The program was supposed to provide a pizza lunch. When lunchtime came, the pizzas had not arrived, so the directors shuttled us into our next training session. An hour went by. Still no pizza. One of the directors, a blonde woman in her late 20’s, came in to tell us that the pizzas still weren’t here.
         “We appreciate your understanding,” she said. She looked frazzled. I felt sympathetic – I have spent most of the last six months as a teacher feeling overwhelmed.
         Most of us shrugged. We could wait for lunch. Then someone stood up, a big burly Teach For America fellow with a deep authoritative voice.
        “Life happens,” he said. “You get a flat tire, your kid gets sick, you get stuck in traffic. But if we are even a minute late to these sessions, you lock us out. So why are you coming in here asking us to be understanding when you don’t extend the same courtesy to us? So no, this is not acceptable - get your act together.”
         All of the teachers started talking about all of the times they had been penalized for being 5 or 10 minutes late. A few teachers cheered. I gave the TFA fellow a high-five. I could feel all of my anger and frustration bubbling under the surface. That was all it took for me to switch from feeling sympathetic towards another frazzled human being to being angry about all of the times these same frazzled people had failed to extend a similar empathy towards me.
       The woman looked like she wanted to either shout or cry. “OK, I’ll do whatever it takes – next time I’ll have them deliver pizzas an hour early.”
       I wanted to tell her that the issue wasn't about the pizza - it was about us wanting to be respected as responsible and conscientious adults. But I am not sure the message would have been heard.
        I work in a district that boasts about its mentoring program for first-year teachers but fails to mention that the funds for this mentoring program are taken from the first-year teacher’s paycheck. Every paycheck about $20 is deducted to pay my mentor, a fellow teacher who continually tells me what I am doing wrong but doesn’t offer any solutions. I also work in a district that keeps adding more and more requirements – tutoring, a heavier teaching load, extra students, extra training responsibilities – while at the same time eliminating the tenure system. Tenure, as imperfect a system as that may be, still offered teachers enough job security to say no to extra responsibilities. Now that security is gone and teachers are getting pressured into taking on extra responsibilities. I myself was given an extra subject to teach in my first week of school as a teacher.
       I look around at other teachers in my certification program. I see them working and stressing and getting burnt out. I see how much they work and how much they care. I know how much I care. I also see myself turning into an angry person, all because I am stuck in a program that doesn’t respect me as a responsible adult, that is constantly adding more and more burdens onto my workload, and that is currently punishing me for not doing enough. I remember why I became a teacher in the first place and a very big part of me feels a keen sense of loss at the way my dream has turned out.

       Sometimes I just wish that we could all just sit down for a pizza lunch and empathize.

Mormon Open Letter

I have spent a lot of time writing about some of the disillusionment and estrangement I felt during my exit process from Mormonism, a lot of which stemmed from the misconceptions surrounding Mormons who leave. Currently, there is an open letter to the LDS Leaders, which was released with the following statement.

"As current and former Mormons, many of us have been through emotional turmoil as we’ve struggled with our beliefs. Some of us even made the difficult decision to leave. Our most cherished relationships have been strained or lost. We’ve experienced pain and distress, sometimes having to keep silent out of fear—all because of a lack of understanding between active members and those who question their faith."

There are a lot of different people who read this blog.  Our common connection is Mormonism, whether it is curiosity about Mormonism, a past connection with Mormonism, or just a need for practicing Mormons to understand those who chose to leave.  Our common denominator is that we want to understand each other. The actions of the current leaders - and the lack of historical transparency - has only served to cause divisions among family and friends.  So, if you have the time, I would recommend checking out the Open Letter.  

The Mormon Open Letter can be found here:

http://www.mormonopenletter.com/

The Girl With The Mormon Background

         “When people talk to you, the first thing they want to talk about is Mormonism.”

          Last summer I attended a writer’s workshop, where one of the participants made this comment over lunch. Of all the many things that I am – scientist, writer, ex-Mormon, victim of a freak auto-pedestrian accident – the primary information that my classmates wanted to know about was the Mormonism. It is, after all, the topic of a hilarious Broadway musical and also a source of confusion, sometime hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking, to a lot of people. Who are these crazy Mormons and why won’t they be honest with us? I suppose, as an ex-Mormon, they saw me as someone that could give a more nuanced answer than an active Mormon who just wants to convert others to Mormonism.
          One of the workshop attendants was a black Puerto Rican woman, whose brother joined Mormonism shortly before the priesthood ban on blacks was lifted. She spent a lot of time talking to me about the effect her brother’s Mormonism had on her extended family as well as the personal toll Mormonism had had on her brother. I could sense her confusion, as well as some of her heartbreak. The Mormon Church has caused a lot of hurt over the years, from the racist teachings of past leaders to the current antipathy of the current leaders towards gays. I often feel torn between needing to come to peace with my legacy as a former Mormon and wanting to erase that part of my life like a stain.
         I waver sometimes when bringing up my Mormon background and my post-Mormon status. Mormonism was a big part of my up-bringing. Leaving Mormonism was a big part of my growth towards adulthood. And yet, the minute I mention the subject, I feel as though I have been marked. The Girl With The Mormon Background. (Which isn’t nearly as cool as being, say, the Girl With The Dragon Tattoo) Maybe I should tattoo an M on my forehead and be done with the matter. But I still haven’t figured out the right approach and I’m not sure that I ever will.

         So I suppose I shall just have to remain as The Girl With The Mormon Background.