My mom had a working mother. Her mom was a nurse, and our family takes great pride in her legacy of decades of service in that field. Still, when I was growing up, my mom reinforced vigorously to me that staying home was what God wanted for every family. I was told repeatedly how lucky we were that God blessed us so she could be home with us. I was an ambitious student, yet by the time I was 12, I could say with tears in my eyes that I would be a stay-at-home mom and sacrifice my dreams for my children.
I assume most Mormons have masturbated, but stake presidents, bishops, and young mens leaders continue the practice of shaming their children for masturbating.
We all know people and families where temple marriage and having children in the covenant did not lead to happiness - and civil unions or unions solemnized by other religions that turn out beautifully- yet we continue to teach that the temple is essential to salvation and eternal families.
We are uncomfortable with polygamy, but we repeat the script that it was for a great purpose and we shouldn't let it bother us.
We can look back at our own foibles and "sins" and see how overcoming those experiences changed us, oftentimes for the better. (Examples: We hurt someone and realized we needed to become more kind and careful with our words. We went into debt, had to rely on other people, and realized we needed to be more frugal or better at keeping a budget, as well as increased our gratitude to others and humility.) Yet we continue to teach that it is better to not sin, to avoid any chance of making mistakes, and to worship a God who never sinned. We continue to make the experience of "messing up" doubly shameful!
For heaven's sake, messing up is one of our greatest tools for learning and growth in this life!
When will we rise up and believe ourselves and our own experiences?
I look back at my experiences and see how the church literally handicapped me by making me untrustworthy to myself.
Polygamy is my first and most powerful example.
What in the world are we doing when our young daughters come to us, usually in their teenage years, and timidly ask us about this practice they've likely only just learned of and we respond that It was okay.
What in the world are we doing?!! Can't we see that this is akin to our sweet daughters coming to us, saying, "There is someone who our family knows, someone close to us, someone we trust and love, who did something that makes me very uncomfortable. And that uncomfortable thing has to do with sex." When in the world would we EVER tell them, "You're right. They did do those things. And you shouldn't be uncomfortable. Your feelings are wrong."
Yet we do this ALL THE TIME!!! We do it over and over. Every few years, I would confide in my parents AGAIN, or my bishop, with the same dilemma. Same answer. It's okay. You don't need to worry about it.
Imagine how ashamed I felt when I couldn't shake my worry about it!
How much bravery does it take for a girl to confide in her parents or an ecclesiastical leader that someone they know and love or even revere has done something that is questionable or unethical?
How terrible that at this tender, searching age, as they are newly awakening to human sexuality- most importantly their own - we invalidate their ability to determine what is sexually appropriate or sexually deviant, sexually healthy or sexually abusive?
We cripple them. Instead of making them masters of their own sexuality and confident in their innate conscience, we bend their knees, place a yoke of shame on their shoulders, and direct their eyes to prophets, men who are the heirs of Joseph's mantle.
Monday, December 7, 2015
But really (there's a reason agnostics don't have five kids)
And here are some more reasons.
Because agnostics, at least around here, don't have a huge community that takes care of you like the church. It is just true. It does take a village, it does, it does, it does. Oh how I miss weekly and monthly get-togethers where the kids had friends, I had friends, and we all did something fun with this huge tribe of people.
Because you can no longer answer every question with, "Because that's what God has commanded/wants us to do"/some version of this. As an agnostic, you are likely a very moral person who cares deeply about doing the right thing. You probably believe your children deserve respect and that they are unique beings with a right to learn and a right to choose their destiny. So you have to think - hard - when you give answers to questions. You want to be careful about not saying too much--actually, you probably want to respond to your child's questions with some very good questions for them to think about and answer. Or simply, "What do you think?" And then listen. Listen a LOT. Listening is hard and oftentimes it takes so much patience and control. It is way easier to just answer and always be the expert.
Another thing, I still believe that responsibility, hard work, kindness and compassion can be developed - in children and adults. But as someone who was well-trained in Christianity and Christianity's reasons for these traits, it takes a lot of reflection to discover what these ideals really mean and how they are really mastered without fear of punishment or hope of reward. I'll probably be working on just this my whole life.
Because you no longer feel good about controlling their behavior "for their good" or "because God would want me to". Instead, you try to find meaning in how they behave, and try to discover what few behaviors are actually bad (ie dangerous ones) and how many are actually just information that something isn't right (they are hungry, they are tired, they are children and are still learning how to be polite/kind/socially adept/patient), etc. You realize how rarely people, and especially children, are actually "being bad". And you could be patient if you had to put up with some less than ideal behavior from two or three kids, but five kids? You probably need to be superhuman.
Because you no longer feel like you absolutely positively must do everything perfect and if you do, they will turn out perfectly, serve missions, marry in the temple, and go to heaven. And losing that "guarantee" of sorts is a loss. It was really motivating as a parent to think I had so much control over who my kids became. They were going to be my reward, in a sense, a reflection of how great of a mom I was. Sure, I still feel like I can hopefully be a positive influence, a trustworthy guide. But there are no guarantees and I realize parenting them this way that I am releasing them from an obligation to turn out like me or like my vision for them. And this leads to all sorts of other things ... like realizing I better make something of myself because they get to be who they are for them (not for me). And to become something myself I need some time to develop me ... which is a challenge with five kids. (Not impossible, I hope?)
Because, patience. To raise kids without rewards and punishments, heaven and hell, prophets, Gods and devils, it takes patience. To be willing to try again, every day, when no one is going to tell you you are a good parent (in fact, they may be telling you the opposite directly or indirectly). To be willing to admit that you make just as many mistakes on the path as your kids. To be willing to listen to them, to wait for them to figure things out themselves - even through making mistakes they could have avoided with your intervention - to foster the confidence that can only come through choosing for themselves. To push yourself to lay off all the advice-giving and start saying more and more often, at teenage-hood if not before, "You got this. I believe in you. You will figure it out. Tell me what your plan is, and how I can help".
Because agnostics, at least around here, don't have a huge community that takes care of you like the church. It is just true. It does take a village, it does, it does, it does. Oh how I miss weekly and monthly get-togethers where the kids had friends, I had friends, and we all did something fun with this huge tribe of people.
Because you can no longer answer every question with, "Because that's what God has commanded/wants us to do"/some version of this. As an agnostic, you are likely a very moral person who cares deeply about doing the right thing. You probably believe your children deserve respect and that they are unique beings with a right to learn and a right to choose their destiny. So you have to think - hard - when you give answers to questions. You want to be careful about not saying too much--actually, you probably want to respond to your child's questions with some very good questions for them to think about and answer. Or simply, "What do you think?" And then listen. Listen a LOT. Listening is hard and oftentimes it takes so much patience and control. It is way easier to just answer and always be the expert.
Another thing, I still believe that responsibility, hard work, kindness and compassion can be developed - in children and adults. But as someone who was well-trained in Christianity and Christianity's reasons for these traits, it takes a lot of reflection to discover what these ideals really mean and how they are really mastered without fear of punishment or hope of reward. I'll probably be working on just this my whole life.
Because you no longer feel good about controlling their behavior "for their good" or "because God would want me to". Instead, you try to find meaning in how they behave, and try to discover what few behaviors are actually bad (ie dangerous ones) and how many are actually just information that something isn't right (they are hungry, they are tired, they are children and are still learning how to be polite/kind/socially adept/patient), etc. You realize how rarely people, and especially children, are actually "being bad". And you could be patient if you had to put up with some less than ideal behavior from two or three kids, but five kids? You probably need to be superhuman.
Because you no longer feel like you absolutely positively must do everything perfect and if you do, they will turn out perfectly, serve missions, marry in the temple, and go to heaven. And losing that "guarantee" of sorts is a loss. It was really motivating as a parent to think I had so much control over who my kids became. They were going to be my reward, in a sense, a reflection of how great of a mom I was. Sure, I still feel like I can hopefully be a positive influence, a trustworthy guide. But there are no guarantees and I realize parenting them this way that I am releasing them from an obligation to turn out like me or like my vision for them. And this leads to all sorts of other things ... like realizing I better make something of myself because they get to be who they are for them (not for me). And to become something myself I need some time to develop me ... which is a challenge with five kids. (Not impossible, I hope?)
Because, patience. To raise kids without rewards and punishments, heaven and hell, prophets, Gods and devils, it takes patience. To be willing to try again, every day, when no one is going to tell you you are a good parent (in fact, they may be telling you the opposite directly or indirectly). To be willing to admit that you make just as many mistakes on the path as your kids. To be willing to listen to them, to wait for them to figure things out themselves - even through making mistakes they could have avoided with your intervention - to foster the confidence that can only come through choosing for themselves. To push yourself to lay off all the advice-giving and start saying more and more often, at teenage-hood if not before, "You got this. I believe in you. You will figure it out. Tell me what your plan is, and how I can help".
Family Night 2.0 - Learning to Make a Joke
In 2014, just months before I decided to leave the church, we spent a wonderful week on an Alaskan Cruise with my adult siblings, their spouses, and my parents. A highlight of the trip was going to shows put on by a comedian - David Naster. He had some pretty great sets, but being the serious type that I am, I really perked up when he got a little serious - about being silly.
He talked about how effective jokes can be at diffusing tough situations like heartache or just plain meanness. He gave some examples, like a teacher joking back at a student who was trying to put her down, or overweight kids who responded to teasing with a clever comeback instead of retreating to a corner to cry.
I appreciated his perspective because ... I'm usually the one who retreats to a corner to cry. And with my kids, I really try hard to be empathetic when it comes to hard experiences because I think all feelings need to be honored in order to move forward in a healthy way. Nevertheless, he really had a point with the humor bit because I know that responding like I have in the past certainly hasn't led to less teasing and more respect. Maybe there's a time to use humor and later a time to receive empathy from those you love and trust.
So I wondered ... could we help teach our kids to learn to respond to some situations with humor?
Who knows, but it made for an enjoyable and therapeutic (maybe?) family night.
Sidenote: We Will Rock You made for an awesome opening song. (Bumh bumh chhh, bumh bumh chhh).
I asked each of the kids to take a piece of paper and write down a time when someone hurt their feelings or made them angry. They didn't necessarily have to write the name of the person - it might have just been "my friend" or "my boss" and just a short description of what the person said or did.
We put all the papers in a bowl. Then we divided into teams of 2 people. Each team took out 2 papers (hopefully not their own). Then that team had to go figure out a way to act out the situations described ... with a punchline ending. In other words, one person was the tease/meanie, and the other had to respond with their best joke/comeback.
We came back together and role played what we had practiced for the rest of the family. I don't know why, but my kids love games like this - any kind of acting or charades. And they seemed to like the chance to talk about the times when their feelings had been hurt and what their actual response had been vs. what it might be today.
Some examples:
My boss asks me what am I going to do to bring in a lot more business by the end of the month (when I'm already working super hard).
My friend called me a "butthead."
Mom yelled at me (Me being the dog - she participated, too, since we have an odd number in our family. Admittedly, this could have been from one of the kids, too.)
A teacher got angry at me for being in a room that she thought I wasn't supposed to be in, but I had permission to be there.
And then we ate ice cream because if there is anything we believe, it is that Family Night is NOT Family Night without refreshments. Amen!
He talked about how effective jokes can be at diffusing tough situations like heartache or just plain meanness. He gave some examples, like a teacher joking back at a student who was trying to put her down, or overweight kids who responded to teasing with a clever comeback instead of retreating to a corner to cry.
I appreciated his perspective because ... I'm usually the one who retreats to a corner to cry. And with my kids, I really try hard to be empathetic when it comes to hard experiences because I think all feelings need to be honored in order to move forward in a healthy way. Nevertheless, he really had a point with the humor bit because I know that responding like I have in the past certainly hasn't led to less teasing and more respect. Maybe there's a time to use humor and later a time to receive empathy from those you love and trust.
So I wondered ... could we help teach our kids to learn to respond to some situations with humor?
Who knows, but it made for an enjoyable and therapeutic (maybe?) family night.
Sidenote: We Will Rock You made for an awesome opening song. (Bumh bumh chhh, bumh bumh chhh).
I asked each of the kids to take a piece of paper and write down a time when someone hurt their feelings or made them angry. They didn't necessarily have to write the name of the person - it might have just been "my friend" or "my boss" and just a short description of what the person said or did.
We put all the papers in a bowl. Then we divided into teams of 2 people. Each team took out 2 papers (hopefully not their own). Then that team had to go figure out a way to act out the situations described ... with a punchline ending. In other words, one person was the tease/meanie, and the other had to respond with their best joke/comeback.
We came back together and role played what we had practiced for the rest of the family. I don't know why, but my kids love games like this - any kind of acting or charades. And they seemed to like the chance to talk about the times when their feelings had been hurt and what their actual response had been vs. what it might be today.
Some examples:
My boss asks me what am I going to do to bring in a lot more business by the end of the month (when I'm already working super hard).
My friend called me a "butthead."
Mom yelled at me (Me being the dog - she participated, too, since we have an odd number in our family. Admittedly, this could have been from one of the kids, too.)
A teacher got angry at me for being in a room that she thought I wasn't supposed to be in, but I had permission to be there.
And then we ate ice cream because if there is anything we believe, it is that Family Night is NOT Family Night without refreshments. Amen!
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