It's funny - I'm almost embarrassed to post on my blog anymore.
And I'm definitely embarrassed to post my blog entries on Facebook.
Why?
Well... I appear to have outgrown my blog title.
Way back in the olden days, I thought "Hippos are Stampeding Through My Brain" was the most hilarious thing ever. It was off the wall, made very little sense, and accurately described my life at the time (I think I came up with that during finals week, or at least midterms). Before that I had changed my blog title anywhere from 1-10 times per week, and was thoroughly enjoying the new world of the blogosphere.
But, well... my life moved on.
Finals were years ago. Off the wall humor doesn't make me giggle half as hard as it used to. And I **horrified gasp** read the NEWS now!!! Consistently. And frequently, I have something to say about it.
But see, when I post something along the lines of "Why going into Iraq was a terrible idea, and whether or not we need to be in there now," or, "Here are the inspirational thoughts I had while enduring a heart-wrenching trial," those thoughts are carried to you, dear universe, by a herd of stampeding hippos.
Thanks a lot, college-kid self.
So, I just didn't write those thoughts.
And now, I'm addressing the problem - those dang hippos.
They have been fired from my blog, no longer carrying to you my thoughts and dreams and crap like that.
So, since you're quite obviously already hanging around in the swirling vortex of Chaos we like to call the Internet, welcome to my little piece of it. My blog will hereafter be known as "My Speck of the Maelstrom."
And, in case you're suddenly struck with the horrifying thought that I might have become too mature, you can comfort yourself with the thought that I still think farts are hilarious.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Sunday, September 7, 2014
I am the Doctor. So are like 278 other people.
My thoughts on my first ever Comic Con:
- Fun
- Glad I went
- I'm not going back.
It was a fun experience, but for me it was a one-timer. There were just plain too. many. people!!! It took us an hour just to get in, and we were given the impression we were very lucky to get in so incredibly quickly. That said, the long wait in line gave us a chance to see a LOT of really cool costumes. I was dressed as the 10th Doctor, and I saw (and took a picture with) a girl in a TARDIS dress that totally made my whole life. She had a Police box cloak, and her dress inside looked like the TARDIS console. Her hair was white, and she even had white contacts in her eyes.
As the 10th Doctor, I was pleased to see that most other "Doctors" were decked out in fezzes and bow ties (one fun-looking guy even had the mop), meaning I wasn't one of a million 10's. While in line, I only saw one other 10, which made me feel ever so slightly special. (I think the final count of 10's I saw while there was about half a dozen.)
As we walked through the doors we were told to show our bracelets, and the sea of people all held their hands high in fists. I felt like I was part of some kind of revolution against the line. It was pretty awesome.
Once inside, we were walking at a turtle's pace (fitting, since Carl went as an actual Ninja Turtle...), trying to find the artist booth of one of our friends. The crowds were so packed together that "standing room only" doesn't cut it. There were thousands and thousands of people there. After navigating through the thronging masses, we found Thomas's booth. We hung out and talked to him for a bit, then went in search of the TARDIS prop.
Okay, I'm sorry, but I went as one of my favorite characters from all of Nerdom. And if I'm going as the 10th Doctor, I'm GOING to take a picture of myself in front of the TARDIS.
Or... since it's me... about 357 pictures of myself in front of the TARDIS.
We found a TARDIS prop, but it turns out it wasn't the TARDIS prop. It was just a small one for fun. The guy in charge of it let us take about 10 pictures each (snapsnapsnapsnapsnap - okay, hurry up, guys. People are waiting), with about 3 shots of both of us together.
A little later we met up with an old friend of mine, who pointed out that there were actually two TARDISes, and we were at the lame one. So, we scoured the area until we found the big one, and once there, I was (after waiting in line for about 30 minutes) able to take as many pictures as I wanted... sort of. As many pictures as I could squeeze into the 45 second window you get before people in the atrociously long line start getting annoyed with you.
I also got in trouble for "attempting to take a picture of Hulk Hogan."
No. No, I wasn't.
Seriously, why the heck would I care about Hulk Hogan?
No, what I was trying to do was take a picture of the guy standing near Hulk Hogan, holding a sign that said, "No Pictures." I might start a fan club for him. Because now I have a picture. I can sell that online and make millions, apparently.
We went to a couple of panels, but honestly, I was pretty unimpressed with them. Having attended writing conventions for quite a few years now, I really felt like there was no new information. Carl and I got bored and left part way through both of them.
Around 2:00 PM, after being there for about 5 hours, we went looking for food. My new shoes were hurting my feet, my pants were uncomfortable, and I was exhausted. I really wanted a good slice of pizza. Carl was getting fed up with the lines and the waiting, and when we got to the food court, the lines were hundreds of people long. We went looking for another food stand, and found every. single. one. to be exactly the same. Hundreds and hundreds of people, in line, waiting to pay $6.50 for a single slice of pizza, and $3.50 for a cup of Dr. Pepper.
I suggested that I was pretty much done - I'd seen and done everything I'd wanted to do. And maybe we could at least take a break and go get food outside Comic Con.
But, after slogging through the crowds at little more than a shuffle, we found a line to a pizza stand that was only about 50 people long. The stand was tucked WAY in the back, behind all the displays, where nobody ever goes. We joined the line, but after about 5 minutes, that was enough. We were done. There was a back door (that was probably just a maintenance and/or fire exit) right there, and we popped out of it.
Once out in the open air, it was wonderful to be able to walk unobstructed, at a normal pace. I shed my jacket and my tie, untucked my shirt, and loosened my pants, all before we'd gone more than a few steps. A half-mile walk later, we were back at the car, a/c blasting, and I couldn't help sighing in relief.
There was a lot to see and a lot of fun, and there's no way I regret going. I went to Comic Con as the Doctor, accompanied by a Ninja Turtle, and it was awesome.
But that's a check on the bucket list, not something I plan to do over and over. In the future, I want to go to less well-attended cons. I was told Comic Con had tens of thousands of people, and until I got there, I didn't see how that was possible. After spending a day among them, I can't imagine how it's any less than that. A couple hours among them was fun - all those people were really creative, and I saw some truly epic costumes.
And now, after lunch, a hot shower, and a 3 hour nap, I'm settled into my big, fluffy rocking chair, watching Carl play Assassin's Creed III (talk about awesome costumes - I saw about a dozen Assassins there today). And I feel quite content.
- Fun
- Glad I went
- I'm not going back.
It was a fun experience, but for me it was a one-timer. There were just plain too. many. people!!! It took us an hour just to get in, and we were given the impression we were very lucky to get in so incredibly quickly. That said, the long wait in line gave us a chance to see a LOT of really cool costumes. I was dressed as the 10th Doctor, and I saw (and took a picture with) a girl in a TARDIS dress that totally made my whole life. She had a Police box cloak, and her dress inside looked like the TARDIS console. Her hair was white, and she even had white contacts in her eyes.
As the 10th Doctor, I was pleased to see that most other "Doctors" were decked out in fezzes and bow ties (one fun-looking guy even had the mop), meaning I wasn't one of a million 10's. While in line, I only saw one other 10, which made me feel ever so slightly special. (I think the final count of 10's I saw while there was about half a dozen.)
As we walked through the doors we were told to show our bracelets, and the sea of people all held their hands high in fists. I felt like I was part of some kind of revolution against the line. It was pretty awesome.
Once inside, we were walking at a turtle's pace (fitting, since Carl went as an actual Ninja Turtle...), trying to find the artist booth of one of our friends. The crowds were so packed together that "standing room only" doesn't cut it. There were thousands and thousands of people there. After navigating through the thronging masses, we found Thomas's booth. We hung out and talked to him for a bit, then went in search of the TARDIS prop.
Okay, I'm sorry, but I went as one of my favorite characters from all of Nerdom. And if I'm going as the 10th Doctor, I'm GOING to take a picture of myself in front of the TARDIS.
Or... since it's me... about 357 pictures of myself in front of the TARDIS.
We found a TARDIS prop, but it turns out it wasn't the TARDIS prop. It was just a small one for fun. The guy in charge of it let us take about 10 pictures each (snapsnapsnapsnapsnap - okay, hurry up, guys. People are waiting), with about 3 shots of both of us together.
A little later we met up with an old friend of mine, who pointed out that there were actually two TARDISes, and we were at the lame one. So, we scoured the area until we found the big one, and once there, I was (after waiting in line for about 30 minutes) able to take as many pictures as I wanted... sort of. As many pictures as I could squeeze into the 45 second window you get before people in the atrociously long line start getting annoyed with you.
I also got in trouble for "attempting to take a picture of Hulk Hogan."
No. No, I wasn't.
Seriously, why the heck would I care about Hulk Hogan?
No, what I was trying to do was take a picture of the guy standing near Hulk Hogan, holding a sign that said, "No Pictures." I might start a fan club for him. Because now I have a picture. I can sell that online and make millions, apparently.
We went to a couple of panels, but honestly, I was pretty unimpressed with them. Having attended writing conventions for quite a few years now, I really felt like there was no new information. Carl and I got bored and left part way through both of them.
Around 2:00 PM, after being there for about 5 hours, we went looking for food. My new shoes were hurting my feet, my pants were uncomfortable, and I was exhausted. I really wanted a good slice of pizza. Carl was getting fed up with the lines and the waiting, and when we got to the food court, the lines were hundreds of people long. We went looking for another food stand, and found every. single. one. to be exactly the same. Hundreds and hundreds of people, in line, waiting to pay $6.50 for a single slice of pizza, and $3.50 for a cup of Dr. Pepper.
I suggested that I was pretty much done - I'd seen and done everything I'd wanted to do. And maybe we could at least take a break and go get food outside Comic Con.
But, after slogging through the crowds at little more than a shuffle, we found a line to a pizza stand that was only about 50 people long. The stand was tucked WAY in the back, behind all the displays, where nobody ever goes. We joined the line, but after about 5 minutes, that was enough. We were done. There was a back door (that was probably just a maintenance and/or fire exit) right there, and we popped out of it.
Once out in the open air, it was wonderful to be able to walk unobstructed, at a normal pace. I shed my jacket and my tie, untucked my shirt, and loosened my pants, all before we'd gone more than a few steps. A half-mile walk later, we were back at the car, a/c blasting, and I couldn't help sighing in relief.
There was a lot to see and a lot of fun, and there's no way I regret going. I went to Comic Con as the Doctor, accompanied by a Ninja Turtle, and it was awesome.
But that's a check on the bucket list, not something I plan to do over and over. In the future, I want to go to less well-attended cons. I was told Comic Con had tens of thousands of people, and until I got there, I didn't see how that was possible. After spending a day among them, I can't imagine how it's any less than that. A couple hours among them was fun - all those people were really creative, and I saw some truly epic costumes.
And now, after lunch, a hot shower, and a 3 hour nap, I'm settled into my big, fluffy rocking chair, watching Carl play Assassin's Creed III (talk about awesome costumes - I saw about a dozen Assassins there today). And I feel quite content.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
A History Question
So, the Callanish Standing Stones in Scotland are in the shape of a Celtic Cross.
They were put in that shape, near as I can tell, absolutely no later than 2600 BC.
Every source on the Celtic Cross that I can find talks about its Christian symbolism.
Obviously, this predates Christianity.
This also predates the use of the cross as a Christian symbol by even more (I believe it was in the 4th century AD).
So, if the Celtic Cross was in existence as a symbol three millennia before it was used by Christians in the British Isles, what was its initial symbolism?
I have no idea...
They were put in that shape, near as I can tell, absolutely no later than 2600 BC.
Every source on the Celtic Cross that I can find talks about its Christian symbolism.
Obviously, this predates Christianity.
This also predates the use of the cross as a Christian symbol by even more (I believe it was in the 4th century AD).
So, if the Celtic Cross was in existence as a symbol three millennia before it was used by Christians in the British Isles, what was its initial symbolism?
I have no idea...
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Ordain Women and Kate Kelly: An Addition to the Discussion
It's been interesting to see my church at the center of a gender equality controversy. Especially one I've struggled with in the past. Since it's something I've put a lot of thought into over the last few years, I'd like to add my thoughts on it to the conversation. (If any of my non-member friends and family read this, I apologize. Without the context there will be some bits that make little or no sense.)
So, for those not in the know, the LDS church recently came under fire by the activist group, Ordain Women, who are claiming the LDS church is oppressive to women, and this can be (at least partially) rectified by allowing women to be ordained to the Priesthood, and hold the offices that come with that. The LDS church recently excommunicated the leader of that organization, Kate Kelly, for her aggressive preaching and media campaign, after requesting she cease and desist.
Here are my thoughts, organized by topic, which will hopefully make them more clear, concise, and easy to follow.
The Arguments of O.W.: Is the LDS Church oppressive to women?
Should Women have the Priesthood?
Okay, just personally speaking, I want the opportunity to be a bishop about as much as I want the opportunity to be drafted. But I know this is just my personal opinion, and there are women who would like to be bishop.
But then, the best bishops I've ever had were the ones who flat out cried from desperation when the call came to them, consumed with the stress of that calling, and their own sense of inadequacy.
Let me make one thing very clear. Priesthood offices and callings are not "opportunities." They are not a career path to a higher spiritual plane; they are a chance to serve the Lord. If you feel like your Spiritual growth is stunted because you are not allowed to be a bishop, you can ask the Lord for more opportunities for growth. Trust me, that is a righteous desire, and He will give them to you.
If what you're looking for is recognition and "position" in the Church, you're very most definitely missing the whole point.
My experiences with the "oppression."
During my time in college, I came face to face with the reality that women are frequently marginalized. Before I get into the particulars of that experience, I need to make one resounding clarification:
God. Does. Not. Marginalize. Women.
In an ultimate perfect world that is the model of heaven, this wouldn't even be an issue. But there is a reason Church policies and culture change: we are not perfect. We find - and are led to - better ways, a little at a time. Sometimes we take a step back, only to learn from that, and then we move forward to something better. What I experienced was not a reflection on the nature of God, or His desires for women.
That said, let's get into what I faced during the aforementioned time. In particular, I experienced:
-In General Conference, I looked up to see a sea of suits and ties, with a very occasional colored dot, marking where a woman sat. Clearly, women could not be our public face.
-In my ward (which I later found out was unique to my ward), there were always 3 speakers in sacrament meeting: 2 men, and a woman sandwiched between them. It felt like the woman was not allowed to offer beginning or ending thoughts, and women couldn't possibly outnumber the men when doctrine was being taught.
-Then we have Relief Society culture - oh, how many times have I ranted on that! Essentially, I have been assured time and time again in Relief Society that I don't need to be insecure, because, despite how I may feel about myself, I really do have intrinsic worth. As someone who has never doubted my intrinsic worth, this is quite off putting, and I believe it is due to our male-dominated clergy, and an attempt to compensate for that without actually addressing the issue.
-And finally, the biggest one for me, the video in the temple ceremony (and I know I'm getting into touchy ground by getting near this, but please bear with me) includes a female role that is very near to silent. She has one part where she gets to speak, and the rest of the spiritual instruction is carried out by the male characters.This is ultimately what kicked off the feeling of being marginalized as a woman. I related to that character - as I should in the case of being instructed by her - and to see her so silent sent me into a couple years of stewing over this issue.
The ordination thing never really bothered me, partially because I never really wanted the responsibilities and stress that come with it, and partially because of the revelation back in the 1970's that blacks could hold the Priesthood. I understand that the policies regarding who holds the Priesthood can change, and all that is required is a revelation from the Lord, followed by the announcement from the prophet. I firmly believe such a revelation, if it is to come, will not come until it is best suited for the benefit of the Church as a whole. (And yes, I have a long rant prepared - which I will not give here - on the nature of religion and how long it takes to change human beliefs that are not correct, when they are deeply seeded in religion.)
The Definition of Oppression:
Now, I just described 4 issues I've experienced with the LDS church, and one that I'm aware of but don't personally have a problem with. Are these oppression?
I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by quoting the dictionary here. We all know what oppression is, and it doesn't matter how the writers of the OED have chosen to phrase what we all know.
Let me instead offer a bit of perspective. While all of this has been swimming around the news and in LDS circles, another story has been making national headlines. It's the case of Meriam Ibrahim, a Christian woman in Sudan who was arrested for apostasy and adultery. If you're not familiar with the story you can read about it here and here. The condensed version is that she was born to a Christian mother and a Muslim father, and her father abandoned the family when she was little. She was then raised a Christian. However, according to Sudan law, children are their father's religion. So, when she married a Christian man, she was abandoning Islam (apostasy), in a marriage that was illegal and therefore made her guilty of adultery. She was sentenced to 100 lashes and death by hanging. (Good news, a court of appeals got her released. Bad news, she was rearrested trying to leave the country. Saga still playing out.)
That's right, a technically-legally-Muslim who was raised Christian was sentenced to die because she married a Christian and had children with him.
With that perspective in mind, let's take a look at my four personal grievances.
1.) Lack of female public representation. Now, bear in mind, this isn't a lack of female representation in decision making. In Ward Council Meeting and the like, you have the Bishop, etc., and you also have the Relief Society President, the Young Women's President, and the Primary President, all of whom are female. Everyone affected by the decisions has a voice in making them. These women don't sit on the stand and receive the public recognition, but they are by no means silent. And if you're concerned about public visibility, I reiterate what I said about being bishop - you're missing the point.
2.) My BYU ward's format for public speakers. Again, this was unique to the ward I was in, and is by no means representative of the entire church. Finding that out was a huge help in allowing me to look past it. While I didn't agree with the personal preferences of my bishop in picking speakers, I'll admit I was being quite hyper-sensitive about it, and it didn't change the fact that the same doctrine was taught, regardless of how many women got to be the ones teaching it.
3.) Relief Society culture of insecurity. Getting pissed off by the subtext of a Relief Society lesson, while a perfectly valid emotional response, is not going to shatter my testimony or make me go home and cry because I now believe I am worthless. It isn't a "deep wound piercing my delicate heart." It is just a major annoyance.
4.) Marginalization of the female character in the temple video. Again, I'll apologize to anyone who feels this shouldn't even be mentioned, since it's temple ceremony related. Since it doesn't even come near the things we covenant to keep sacred, I do believe it's fair to discuss, if done so respectfully and moderately. Personally, I believe the female character's script is a relic from the older scripts of this instruction video, written before feminism was even an issue. And, frankly, it does make sense in context of the story for the male character to do almost all of the speaking. In the most recent videos they made, they did try to give her more of a presence, even if they didn't change the spoken lines, and I greatly appreciated that. Either way, the doctrine taught in the film is not remotely affected or rendered untrue by the force of presence held by the female character. This makes it, once again, a matter of visibility.
So, when we look at all of these things for what they really are, our lives are not being threatened. We are not imprisoned. We are not subject to physical beatings. We are free to leave at any point. What we have are petty annoyances and a lack of public recognition.
This. Is. Not. Oppression.
Kate Kelly's Excommunication: Unjust silencing or the right course of action?
This brings us away from my stance on the O.W. arguments, and onto the actual events of recent days.
What Happened:
This past Sunday, Kate Kelly was asked to attend a disciplinary hearing via video chat (her home ward is in Virginia, but she was in Salt Lake City). Rather than do so, she instead organized a candle light vigil outside the church office building, so her supporters could pray for her. She piled letters from her supporters and handkerchiefs outside, and awaited the response.
The response came in a letter telling her she was officially excommunicated, listing the reasons why, and steps she would need to take to come back into full fellowship, if that's what she chose to do.
How appropriate was this measure?
Well, I'm not her bishop, so that's not my call to make (thankfully... see? So glad I'll never have to make a decision like that). But, looking at the situation, here's what I think about it.
She started her movement by using protest to ask the leadership of the Church to prayerfully consider the option of giving women the priesthood.
A few months ago, shortly before the last General Conference, she received a formal answer from the Church. The answer was that, after prayerful consideration, the answer was no. Women would not receive priesthood ordination. Also, please stop protesting.
Her request for prayerful consideration was granted. But she continued fighting about it. She held more protests, preached regularly on her website, and continued to reject the answer she was given as "wrong."
Protest as a Chanel of Religious Reform
Protest is wonderful in matters of government. Government is something we don't get a choice in whether or not to be a part of. We're born in a specific geographic location, and with that comes citizenship (or membership, to use Church terminology), and certain responsibilities like paying taxes and obeying the law. We have every right in this universe to speak out as loudly as we need to be heard. Opting out of government (at least, in an ethical manner) requires leaving your home, giving up proximity to your loved ones, and relocating to deal with a whole new government, if they allow you to do so, and filling out a full headache's worth of paperwork, paying exorbitant amounts of money in fees. And in most cases you don't have the option to separate and form your own country that does things the way you like.
Church is not government. Participation is 100% voluntary, and guess what - you can also be kicked out. If you think the leadership of the church is wrong, you have the option to start a break off group that does things the way you feel they should be done.
As for asking questions, YES, ask them! We hear this nearly every Sunday in one of our 3 sessions of church. "You can't rely on other people's testimonies. You need to find out for yourself." From the simple statements and the anecdotes to the deep-seeded feeling we all have to know truth for ourselves and to not just accept what we're told, our church thrives on questions. And please, by all means, ask the hard ones! Ask why women are marginalized sometimes. Ask why it took until 1978 for blacks to receive the Priesthood.
But, and here's the key, ask God. And ask with humility. Ask with a willingness to accept the answer God gives you as His will, even if it's exactly the opposite of what you wanted, or even expected.
Conclusion:
Kate Kelly asked the Church leadership - which is perfectly fine. And she was given an answer. But she didn't get the answer she wanted, and her response was certainly not humble. She lit a fire, taking it to the media and crying oppression, smearing the Church's name and reputation.
The Church is not oppressing women, and Kate Kelly's actions against it were grossly exaggerating petty annoyances. The Church asked her to stop, and at her blatant refusal to do so, they removed her membership. This is well within their rights, and perfectly justified. I can't think of another organization that, upon being blatantly badmouthed by one of their members to the media, would not remove that member's standing in their organization.
Removing her was also done in the interest of the Church membership as a whole, due to her avid preaching of false doctrine. There is a really good blog with an opinion on that here. I couldn't state it better, so if you're interested, I recommend going and reading that blog post.
As a woman in the LDS church, I have felt the marginalization that sparked the O.W. movement. I understand it, and I wish it wasn't there. But, when I realized how very little it affects my every day life, those annoyances became so tiny.
I have access to the Priesthood. I have an honorable, good husband, and before that my brother, and before that - when I didn't live 900 miles away from my parents - my father. If I didn't have them, I would have had home teachers, a bishop, and a myriad of other options, should I need inspired counsel or a blessing. I don't need the official ordination to use it.
There is SO much more to being LDS than how I feel affected as a woman, and my identity as a woman does not rely on the culture of the Church. All those things that the Church is really about, from the sense of community and service to the stack of scriptures to the teachings on being kind and loving that we receive every week, builds the "pile of good things" in my life. The LDS church gives us chances to grow, a sense of optimism, and a real purpose to life. And yes, it gives us hard questions, and tells us to ask them.
A while ago, I asked the really hard question - is this Church (or any church for that matter) really approved by God? And I got an answer - a resounding yes. And that yes was specific to this church, not just churches in general. I don't believe God marginalizes women. Only the mortals we work with do that. But God does approve of the LDS church, and I can't let the petty things pull me away from all the good things it does in my life.
So, for those not in the know, the LDS church recently came under fire by the activist group, Ordain Women, who are claiming the LDS church is oppressive to women, and this can be (at least partially) rectified by allowing women to be ordained to the Priesthood, and hold the offices that come with that. The LDS church recently excommunicated the leader of that organization, Kate Kelly, for her aggressive preaching and media campaign, after requesting she cease and desist.
Here are my thoughts, organized by topic, which will hopefully make them more clear, concise, and easy to follow.
The Arguments of O.W.: Is the LDS Church oppressive to women?
Should Women have the Priesthood?
Okay, just personally speaking, I want the opportunity to be a bishop about as much as I want the opportunity to be drafted. But I know this is just my personal opinion, and there are women who would like to be bishop.
But then, the best bishops I've ever had were the ones who flat out cried from desperation when the call came to them, consumed with the stress of that calling, and their own sense of inadequacy.
Let me make one thing very clear. Priesthood offices and callings are not "opportunities." They are not a career path to a higher spiritual plane; they are a chance to serve the Lord. If you feel like your Spiritual growth is stunted because you are not allowed to be a bishop, you can ask the Lord for more opportunities for growth. Trust me, that is a righteous desire, and He will give them to you.
If what you're looking for is recognition and "position" in the Church, you're very most definitely missing the whole point.
My experiences with the "oppression."
During my time in college, I came face to face with the reality that women are frequently marginalized. Before I get into the particulars of that experience, I need to make one resounding clarification:
God. Does. Not. Marginalize. Women.
In an ultimate perfect world that is the model of heaven, this wouldn't even be an issue. But there is a reason Church policies and culture change: we are not perfect. We find - and are led to - better ways, a little at a time. Sometimes we take a step back, only to learn from that, and then we move forward to something better. What I experienced was not a reflection on the nature of God, or His desires for women.
That said, let's get into what I faced during the aforementioned time. In particular, I experienced:
-In General Conference, I looked up to see a sea of suits and ties, with a very occasional colored dot, marking where a woman sat. Clearly, women could not be our public face.
-In my ward (which I later found out was unique to my ward), there were always 3 speakers in sacrament meeting: 2 men, and a woman sandwiched between them. It felt like the woman was not allowed to offer beginning or ending thoughts, and women couldn't possibly outnumber the men when doctrine was being taught.
-Then we have Relief Society culture - oh, how many times have I ranted on that! Essentially, I have been assured time and time again in Relief Society that I don't need to be insecure, because, despite how I may feel about myself, I really do have intrinsic worth. As someone who has never doubted my intrinsic worth, this is quite off putting, and I believe it is due to our male-dominated clergy, and an attempt to compensate for that without actually addressing the issue.
-And finally, the biggest one for me, the video in the temple ceremony (and I know I'm getting into touchy ground by getting near this, but please bear with me) includes a female role that is very near to silent. She has one part where she gets to speak, and the rest of the spiritual instruction is carried out by the male characters.This is ultimately what kicked off the feeling of being marginalized as a woman. I related to that character - as I should in the case of being instructed by her - and to see her so silent sent me into a couple years of stewing over this issue.
The ordination thing never really bothered me, partially because I never really wanted the responsibilities and stress that come with it, and partially because of the revelation back in the 1970's that blacks could hold the Priesthood. I understand that the policies regarding who holds the Priesthood can change, and all that is required is a revelation from the Lord, followed by the announcement from the prophet. I firmly believe such a revelation, if it is to come, will not come until it is best suited for the benefit of the Church as a whole. (And yes, I have a long rant prepared - which I will not give here - on the nature of religion and how long it takes to change human beliefs that are not correct, when they are deeply seeded in religion.)
The Definition of Oppression:
Now, I just described 4 issues I've experienced with the LDS church, and one that I'm aware of but don't personally have a problem with. Are these oppression?
I'm not going to insult anyone's intelligence by quoting the dictionary here. We all know what oppression is, and it doesn't matter how the writers of the OED have chosen to phrase what we all know.
Let me instead offer a bit of perspective. While all of this has been swimming around the news and in LDS circles, another story has been making national headlines. It's the case of Meriam Ibrahim, a Christian woman in Sudan who was arrested for apostasy and adultery. If you're not familiar with the story you can read about it here and here. The condensed version is that she was born to a Christian mother and a Muslim father, and her father abandoned the family when she was little. She was then raised a Christian. However, according to Sudan law, children are their father's religion. So, when she married a Christian man, she was abandoning Islam (apostasy), in a marriage that was illegal and therefore made her guilty of adultery. She was sentenced to 100 lashes and death by hanging. (Good news, a court of appeals got her released. Bad news, she was rearrested trying to leave the country. Saga still playing out.)
That's right, a technically-legally-Muslim who was raised Christian was sentenced to die because she married a Christian and had children with him.
With that perspective in mind, let's take a look at my four personal grievances.
1.) Lack of female public representation. Now, bear in mind, this isn't a lack of female representation in decision making. In Ward Council Meeting and the like, you have the Bishop, etc., and you also have the Relief Society President, the Young Women's President, and the Primary President, all of whom are female. Everyone affected by the decisions has a voice in making them. These women don't sit on the stand and receive the public recognition, but they are by no means silent. And if you're concerned about public visibility, I reiterate what I said about being bishop - you're missing the point.
2.) My BYU ward's format for public speakers. Again, this was unique to the ward I was in, and is by no means representative of the entire church. Finding that out was a huge help in allowing me to look past it. While I didn't agree with the personal preferences of my bishop in picking speakers, I'll admit I was being quite hyper-sensitive about it, and it didn't change the fact that the same doctrine was taught, regardless of how many women got to be the ones teaching it.
3.) Relief Society culture of insecurity. Getting pissed off by the subtext of a Relief Society lesson, while a perfectly valid emotional response, is not going to shatter my testimony or make me go home and cry because I now believe I am worthless. It isn't a "deep wound piercing my delicate heart." It is just a major annoyance.
4.) Marginalization of the female character in the temple video. Again, I'll apologize to anyone who feels this shouldn't even be mentioned, since it's temple ceremony related. Since it doesn't even come near the things we covenant to keep sacred, I do believe it's fair to discuss, if done so respectfully and moderately. Personally, I believe the female character's script is a relic from the older scripts of this instruction video, written before feminism was even an issue. And, frankly, it does make sense in context of the story for the male character to do almost all of the speaking. In the most recent videos they made, they did try to give her more of a presence, even if they didn't change the spoken lines, and I greatly appreciated that. Either way, the doctrine taught in the film is not remotely affected or rendered untrue by the force of presence held by the female character. This makes it, once again, a matter of visibility.
So, when we look at all of these things for what they really are, our lives are not being threatened. We are not imprisoned. We are not subject to physical beatings. We are free to leave at any point. What we have are petty annoyances and a lack of public recognition.
This. Is. Not. Oppression.
Kate Kelly's Excommunication: Unjust silencing or the right course of action?
This brings us away from my stance on the O.W. arguments, and onto the actual events of recent days.
What Happened:
This past Sunday, Kate Kelly was asked to attend a disciplinary hearing via video chat (her home ward is in Virginia, but she was in Salt Lake City). Rather than do so, she instead organized a candle light vigil outside the church office building, so her supporters could pray for her. She piled letters from her supporters and handkerchiefs outside, and awaited the response.
The response came in a letter telling her she was officially excommunicated, listing the reasons why, and steps she would need to take to come back into full fellowship, if that's what she chose to do.
How appropriate was this measure?
Well, I'm not her bishop, so that's not my call to make (thankfully... see? So glad I'll never have to make a decision like that). But, looking at the situation, here's what I think about it.
She started her movement by using protest to ask the leadership of the Church to prayerfully consider the option of giving women the priesthood.
A few months ago, shortly before the last General Conference, she received a formal answer from the Church. The answer was that, after prayerful consideration, the answer was no. Women would not receive priesthood ordination. Also, please stop protesting.
Her request for prayerful consideration was granted. But she continued fighting about it. She held more protests, preached regularly on her website, and continued to reject the answer she was given as "wrong."
Protest as a Chanel of Religious Reform
Protest is wonderful in matters of government. Government is something we don't get a choice in whether or not to be a part of. We're born in a specific geographic location, and with that comes citizenship (or membership, to use Church terminology), and certain responsibilities like paying taxes and obeying the law. We have every right in this universe to speak out as loudly as we need to be heard. Opting out of government (at least, in an ethical manner) requires leaving your home, giving up proximity to your loved ones, and relocating to deal with a whole new government, if they allow you to do so, and filling out a full headache's worth of paperwork, paying exorbitant amounts of money in fees. And in most cases you don't have the option to separate and form your own country that does things the way you like.
Church is not government. Participation is 100% voluntary, and guess what - you can also be kicked out. If you think the leadership of the church is wrong, you have the option to start a break off group that does things the way you feel they should be done.
As for asking questions, YES, ask them! We hear this nearly every Sunday in one of our 3 sessions of church. "You can't rely on other people's testimonies. You need to find out for yourself." From the simple statements and the anecdotes to the deep-seeded feeling we all have to know truth for ourselves and to not just accept what we're told, our church thrives on questions. And please, by all means, ask the hard ones! Ask why women are marginalized sometimes. Ask why it took until 1978 for blacks to receive the Priesthood.
But, and here's the key, ask God. And ask with humility. Ask with a willingness to accept the answer God gives you as His will, even if it's exactly the opposite of what you wanted, or even expected.
Conclusion:
Kate Kelly asked the Church leadership - which is perfectly fine. And she was given an answer. But she didn't get the answer she wanted, and her response was certainly not humble. She lit a fire, taking it to the media and crying oppression, smearing the Church's name and reputation.
The Church is not oppressing women, and Kate Kelly's actions against it were grossly exaggerating petty annoyances. The Church asked her to stop, and at her blatant refusal to do so, they removed her membership. This is well within their rights, and perfectly justified. I can't think of another organization that, upon being blatantly badmouthed by one of their members to the media, would not remove that member's standing in their organization.
Removing her was also done in the interest of the Church membership as a whole, due to her avid preaching of false doctrine. There is a really good blog with an opinion on that here. I couldn't state it better, so if you're interested, I recommend going and reading that blog post.
As a woman in the LDS church, I have felt the marginalization that sparked the O.W. movement. I understand it, and I wish it wasn't there. But, when I realized how very little it affects my every day life, those annoyances became so tiny.
I have access to the Priesthood. I have an honorable, good husband, and before that my brother, and before that - when I didn't live 900 miles away from my parents - my father. If I didn't have them, I would have had home teachers, a bishop, and a myriad of other options, should I need inspired counsel or a blessing. I don't need the official ordination to use it.
There is SO much more to being LDS than how I feel affected as a woman, and my identity as a woman does not rely on the culture of the Church. All those things that the Church is really about, from the sense of community and service to the stack of scriptures to the teachings on being kind and loving that we receive every week, builds the "pile of good things" in my life. The LDS church gives us chances to grow, a sense of optimism, and a real purpose to life. And yes, it gives us hard questions, and tells us to ask them.
A while ago, I asked the really hard question - is this Church (or any church for that matter) really approved by God? And I got an answer - a resounding yes. And that yes was specific to this church, not just churches in general. I don't believe God marginalizes women. Only the mortals we work with do that. But God does approve of the LDS church, and I can't let the petty things pull me away from all the good things it does in my life.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Thoughts of a Post-Emotional-Outburst Woman
I made myself cry today. On purpose. When I was feeling no distress whatsoever.
I do this occasionally, for no observable reason. I'll just be feeling a bit bored and remedy that by daydreaming up a tragedy that leaves mascara streaming down my face, while I desperately hope I can remove any traces before my husband gets home and thinks somebody died.
Long after my self-induced emotional trauma, while I was still floating on that post-cry high, I had to ask myself, "I know at least 5 girls who will admit to doing this, and just about every woman I know will watch a 'cry movie' here and there when they 'feel like they could use a good cry.' I have never, ever heard of a man deliberately making himself cry. What's up with that???"
I know a little bit about the chemistry of crying. Apparently it releases toxins and such, but that doesn't explain why women cry so much more than men. So I decided to Google it.
Google was useless. One site claimed that the same proteins that stimulate breast milk also cause tears (which would be a great explanation... if I were lactating), another said it was because men had smaller tear ducts, so when they cried we just couldn't see it (nope... not buying that one), and another said it was because men sweat more, so they don't need to cry (I might be able to believe that one... as it also explains why many of the men in my experience naturally smell like B.O. and farts so much more often than the women). Still, I happen to know women who sweat plenty, and not only do they not smell like men, but they also cry up a good storm as often as any other woman I know.
No, Google didn't give me an answer. What Google DID give me, however, was a passel of advice articles on what to do if your girlfriend is crying. And, of course, being the crying girl in that scenario, I had to see what advice my potential comforters were being given.
Best advice: "Whatever you do, don't ever blame PMS for her outbursts — even if you, she and the calendar know better." From AskMen.com.
Thank you, AskMen.com, for saying this. Because, we DO cry for no reason, as I clearly did today, when hormones are not involved. And we cry for reasons that some people don't understand, but make perfect sense to us. And we cry when we're feeling hormonal and irrational and we know it doesn't make sense for us to feel the way we do, but dammit, that's how it feels and the fact that it makes no sense just makes it that much more traumatic. No matter why we're crying, having someone dismiss our feelings as "just hormones" is the quickest route to turn that high level of emotion into a homicidal rage.
Worst Advice: "If the woman tells you what is wrong, first determine if you can help her to fix the problem. Show her that you are a gentleman, or at least a decent guy. If you can help her fix the problem, tell her so and ask her if she wants you to help her fix it." From WikiHow.
No. Just... no. Freak, no. If we want someone to fix our problems, we will say so. Crying is NOT a request for problem solving. Frequently, it just feels like the guy is trying to get us to stop crying, or reducing our complex emotion into the simple scenario that caused it, and I'm pretty sure I've made it clear that we NEED TO CRY.
What we need most while crying is validation for the fact that we are crying. If we're crying because things suck, then yes. Things suck. If we're hormonal, that sucks. If we're crying because we're happy... great! That's... heck, not even we know why we're crying in that scenario, but sure. Let it rain.
I don't know why so many men don't cry, but women do because it feels good. It's refreshing and cathartic. Stressed? Sad? Angry? Frustrated? A solid cry is a good way to relieve any of that. Bored? Feeling a tad emotionally dull? Yep! Have a nice cry. It'll pep you right up!
So, if I could just add to the advice I read today, remember this: Tears are not a crisis. In fact, more often than not, they are a solution. They purge negative emotion and bring renewal, replacing stress, anger, and sorrow with strength and the ability to more easily move forward. If your girlfriend/wife/sister/mother/totally-platonic-female-friend is crying, encourage it. Validate it. It's a good thing, and she'll be so much better once she's done scrubbing the mascara off her cheeks.
I do this occasionally, for no observable reason. I'll just be feeling a bit bored and remedy that by daydreaming up a tragedy that leaves mascara streaming down my face, while I desperately hope I can remove any traces before my husband gets home and thinks somebody died.
Long after my self-induced emotional trauma, while I was still floating on that post-cry high, I had to ask myself, "I know at least 5 girls who will admit to doing this, and just about every woman I know will watch a 'cry movie' here and there when they 'feel like they could use a good cry.' I have never, ever heard of a man deliberately making himself cry. What's up with that???"
I know a little bit about the chemistry of crying. Apparently it releases toxins and such, but that doesn't explain why women cry so much more than men. So I decided to Google it.
Google was useless. One site claimed that the same proteins that stimulate breast milk also cause tears (which would be a great explanation... if I were lactating), another said it was because men had smaller tear ducts, so when they cried we just couldn't see it (nope... not buying that one), and another said it was because men sweat more, so they don't need to cry (I might be able to believe that one... as it also explains why many of the men in my experience naturally smell like B.O. and farts so much more often than the women). Still, I happen to know women who sweat plenty, and not only do they not smell like men, but they also cry up a good storm as often as any other woman I know.
No, Google didn't give me an answer. What Google DID give me, however, was a passel of advice articles on what to do if your girlfriend is crying. And, of course, being the crying girl in that scenario, I had to see what advice my potential comforters were being given.
Best advice: "Whatever you do, don't ever blame PMS for her outbursts — even if you, she and the calendar know better." From AskMen.com.
Thank you, AskMen.com, for saying this. Because, we DO cry for no reason, as I clearly did today, when hormones are not involved. And we cry for reasons that some people don't understand, but make perfect sense to us. And we cry when we're feeling hormonal and irrational and we know it doesn't make sense for us to feel the way we do, but dammit, that's how it feels and the fact that it makes no sense just makes it that much more traumatic. No matter why we're crying, having someone dismiss our feelings as "just hormones" is the quickest route to turn that high level of emotion into a homicidal rage.
Worst Advice: "If the woman tells you what is wrong, first determine if you can help her to fix the problem. Show her that you are a gentleman, or at least a decent guy. If you can help her fix the problem, tell her so and ask her if she wants you to help her fix it." From WikiHow.
No. Just... no. Freak, no. If we want someone to fix our problems, we will say so. Crying is NOT a request for problem solving. Frequently, it just feels like the guy is trying to get us to stop crying, or reducing our complex emotion into the simple scenario that caused it, and I'm pretty sure I've made it clear that we NEED TO CRY.
What we need most while crying is validation for the fact that we are crying. If we're crying because things suck, then yes. Things suck. If we're hormonal, that sucks. If we're crying because we're happy... great! That's... heck, not even we know why we're crying in that scenario, but sure. Let it rain.
I don't know why so many men don't cry, but women do because it feels good. It's refreshing and cathartic. Stressed? Sad? Angry? Frustrated? A solid cry is a good way to relieve any of that. Bored? Feeling a tad emotionally dull? Yep! Have a nice cry. It'll pep you right up!
So, if I could just add to the advice I read today, remember this: Tears are not a crisis. In fact, more often than not, they are a solution. They purge negative emotion and bring renewal, replacing stress, anger, and sorrow with strength and the ability to more easily move forward. If your girlfriend/wife/sister/mother/totally-platonic-female-friend is crying, encourage it. Validate it. It's a good thing, and she'll be so much better once she's done scrubbing the mascara off her cheeks.
Friday, February 14, 2014
The Emotion of Food
Turns out food is actually an emotion.
I didn't know this until I started compiling a menu for weight loss.
See, at work we just released a new weight loss product, and on our website we're going to have all these resources for people trying phase 2 of New Year's Resolutions, where you realize it's March and you haven't actually started, and then, motivated by crushing guilt and post-Valentine's chocolate weight, you spend a couple weeks buying weight loss products and thinking about cooking from weight loss menus, before deciding that, Hey! You lost 2 whole pounds! You're doing just fine, and should probably celebrate those 2 pounds with Bavarian cream donuts.
Because you've earned it.
Anyway, the menu I'm compiling comes from a book that lists what you should eat for a 2,000 calorie diet, and then has modifications for 1600 and 1200 calories.
Wow.
So much emotion. I never knew food could rip into my heart like that.
Let me give an example.
My first reaction, as I see strictly proscribed breakfast, lunch, snack, and dinner (yes, your snacks are proscribed for you... and you only get one) is a sort of dread. But... what if I want two snacks? What if I get hungry at 10:37 AM, and it's not time for lunch yet? What about second breakfast? Elevensies? Afternoon tea? Supper?
I don't think the guy who wrote this book knew about second breakfast.
My next reaction varies, depending on the menu item. When I get to snack, and it says "Cottage Cheese, Pear, Walnuts," I sort of gag a little in my mouth.
I'm sorry, but a "snack" is a brownie with ice cream on it, followed by a bag of fruit snacks. If you're feeling creative, put the fruit snacks on the ice cream. If you're feeling virtuous, use one of the Fiber One brownies that has enough fiber in it to make you feel like you're eating something healthy, and then confirms your personal health-choice by making you gassy enough to stave off the planet's energy crisis. Don't give me this 4 oz. of no-salt cottage cheese and a tablespoon of walnuts crap.
Then I get to dinner. Roast chicken breast, baked potato, honey glazed carrots, salad, and frozen yogurt.
What happens in my heart? Relief! Oh, the joy! Listen to those menu items! Roast chicken breast? Into my head immediately pops one of those rotisserie chickens from the deli section of the grocery store. Like, a whole chicken. Baked potato? Mmmmmm! Butter and cheeeeeeeese!!!! Honey glazed carrots? You know, I had a roommate who made the most perfect version of those I have ever encountered. Salad... meh. Sure. Have your greens, I guess. But it'd better be a Caesar salad with Parmesan cheese and croutons. Frozen yogurt? Now we're talking! TCBY, baby!
Oh... but I'm not recording the 2,000 calorie version.
No, I start going through the details and portions on the items. You only get 3 oz. of chicken breast, and it's a breast with no... anything. Just chicken. No sauce. No glaze. Not even the skin.
Same with the baked potato. Not even butter. Just potato. Oh, and if you're doing the 1200 calorie version, you only get half a potato.
The carrots still look good. You can have a full cup of those.
The salad... not Caesar. And you only get a single, tiny tablespoon of dressing.
The frozen yogurt? 1/2 a cup. That's it. And if you're on the 1200 diet, nothing.
Seriously, nothing. No dessert at all.
Do you know what emotion this makes? Do you know what I feel?
Sadness.
Crushing, heart-heavy sadness.
The weight of all the food I can't eat sits on my chest, threatening to cave it in as I fight through the pain, reminding myself that I just have to type the menu, not adhere to it.
But food.
Food is heavy stuff.
I didn't know this until I started compiling a menu for weight loss.
See, at work we just released a new weight loss product, and on our website we're going to have all these resources for people trying phase 2 of New Year's Resolutions, where you realize it's March and you haven't actually started, and then, motivated by crushing guilt and post-Valentine's chocolate weight, you spend a couple weeks buying weight loss products and thinking about cooking from weight loss menus, before deciding that, Hey! You lost 2 whole pounds! You're doing just fine, and should probably celebrate those 2 pounds with Bavarian cream donuts.
Because you've earned it.
Anyway, the menu I'm compiling comes from a book that lists what you should eat for a 2,000 calorie diet, and then has modifications for 1600 and 1200 calories.
Wow.
So much emotion. I never knew food could rip into my heart like that.
Let me give an example.
My first reaction, as I see strictly proscribed breakfast, lunch, snack, and dinner (yes, your snacks are proscribed for you... and you only get one) is a sort of dread. But... what if I want two snacks? What if I get hungry at 10:37 AM, and it's not time for lunch yet? What about second breakfast? Elevensies? Afternoon tea? Supper?
I don't think the guy who wrote this book knew about second breakfast.
My next reaction varies, depending on the menu item. When I get to snack, and it says "Cottage Cheese, Pear, Walnuts," I sort of gag a little in my mouth.
I'm sorry, but a "snack" is a brownie with ice cream on it, followed by a bag of fruit snacks. If you're feeling creative, put the fruit snacks on the ice cream. If you're feeling virtuous, use one of the Fiber One brownies that has enough fiber in it to make you feel like you're eating something healthy, and then confirms your personal health-choice by making you gassy enough to stave off the planet's energy crisis. Don't give me this 4 oz. of no-salt cottage cheese and a tablespoon of walnuts crap.
Then I get to dinner. Roast chicken breast, baked potato, honey glazed carrots, salad, and frozen yogurt.
What happens in my heart? Relief! Oh, the joy! Listen to those menu items! Roast chicken breast? Into my head immediately pops one of those rotisserie chickens from the deli section of the grocery store. Like, a whole chicken. Baked potato? Mmmmmm! Butter and cheeeeeeeese!!!! Honey glazed carrots? You know, I had a roommate who made the most perfect version of those I have ever encountered. Salad... meh. Sure. Have your greens, I guess. But it'd better be a Caesar salad with Parmesan cheese and croutons. Frozen yogurt? Now we're talking! TCBY, baby!
Oh... but I'm not recording the 2,000 calorie version.
No, I start going through the details and portions on the items. You only get 3 oz. of chicken breast, and it's a breast with no... anything. Just chicken. No sauce. No glaze. Not even the skin.
Same with the baked potato. Not even butter. Just potato. Oh, and if you're doing the 1200 calorie version, you only get half a potato.
The carrots still look good. You can have a full cup of those.
The salad... not Caesar. And you only get a single, tiny tablespoon of dressing.
The frozen yogurt? 1/2 a cup. That's it. And if you're on the 1200 diet, nothing.
Seriously, nothing. No dessert at all.
Do you know what emotion this makes? Do you know what I feel?
Sadness.
Crushing, heart-heavy sadness.
The weight of all the food I can't eat sits on my chest, threatening to cave it in as I fight through the pain, reminding myself that I just have to type the menu, not adhere to it.
But food.
Food is heavy stuff.
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