I'm justa girl

I've learned to avoid telling people I ever had anything to do with the church. You get a stigma. A lot of you will get that. I fear a particularly stinky kind for myself. You guys, my husband was born into the church. I chose it.

But because he was born into it, there are situations I can't get out of, attitudes I can't avoid. His family is pretty awesome with regard to our leaving, but there's one member who--try as he might!--can't let go entirely. Every now and again he has a comment. It usually doesn't bother me.

But the attitudinal issues--those bother me. The misogynistic crap is so subtle, but it's there and I've always felt it but I've always dismissed it because it's so subtle and, y'know, maybe I'm just being sensitive. I don't know if anyone outside the culture and at all unfamiliar with it would sense it as it's redressed in names like "values" and "virtue" and "faith" and "humility" and "modesty" so that even women don't see it.

We attended a little get-together at my FIL for my SIL's 8th grade graduation this past weekend. As my FIL and my husband are both teachers, they talk quite a bit about issues and general experiences. Now, I didn't necessarily grow up wanting to be an English teacher, but it has always been on my mind. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have tutored and enjoyed it so much. In high school I wanted to be a writer, but I was aware enough to know that wouldn't work as a day job so I considered being an editor or proofreader, working in the publishing industry.


For a long time post-church I told myself and anyone who would listen that I didn't think I could teach, that I didn't have the ability to handle the emotional and mental issues associated with it. Because I wouldn't let it go (I was waiting for someone to assure me I'd be fine--yay passive-aggression!), others simply shrugged and agreed--which made my insecurity worse. I had just spent the last decade being told ("encouraged") that I couldn't do what I wanted to do. It's been quite the process redefining myself. I'm getting there, but it's slow.

So I finally decided last summer that I was going back to school with purpose. The difference in my motivation is amazing. I finally believed I could do something and I've done all the annoying crap so far in order to do it. I took biology--biology. I've overcome a lot of fears just in the last year to keep going. Now I'm in summer school. I'm happier when I'm studying.

But not everyone is all that supportive. More than I thought are, but there are the cynics. They surrounded me yesterday.

"So you wanna be a teacher, huh?" a family member--also a teacher--said.

"Yeah."

(insert loud laughter here)

It could be because the climate is so godawful right now that only an insane masochist would even entertain the thought, but I know this mindset. I know my husband used to have it. Kids, I could tell a few stories and they're all influenced by church doctrine and teachings regarding women--not girls! women--and their place. "I'd rather you wouldn't wear that." "Don't go on a walk by yourself."

I mean, girls.

So the laughter also stank of condescension and it didn't help that the conversation stopped there. They weren't interested. But, he did bring it up again later. "So what do you want to teach? Elementary?"

Because, as many of you know, women are best at teaching elementary if they're going to teach at all (really, if a mormon woman has to work, she can be a secretary or a teacher so I'm already playing into this). And let's not forget that just moments before I overheard a conversation regarding elementary school teachers--they're amazing people and a special brand and omg so glad they're there, but their university program doesn't demand as much of them.

He backed up pretty quickly after I scrunched up my face and...well.

Every time I was asked about school my responses were met with snideness. Even DILF (i'm struggling with this. he's uncomfortable with actual names but i grow tired of "my husband" and i think "DILF" is funny)--ANYWAY, DILF, who usually sets me straight when I'm being irrational--and god knows I can be when I'm angry and hurt--agreed that there were some major you're so cute *pet* now get in the kitchen overtones going on.

Seriously. I need some good returns for these stupid comments next time. When we got home I just wanted to ball up and cry and punch something.

I'm not doing this for them, to prove anything to them. If I was I wouldn't have come even this far. But, you know, it would be nice to have a bit of respect.

Still looking.

Finding decent articles and first hand experiences from the church has been both frustrating and enlightening. The bullshit the church has said--amazing. I knew about most of it, of course, but my god.

Still looking for first hand experiences, mostly by way of these questions:

1) How long did it take you to say phrases like "if i left the church"?

2) How long did it take you to go less- or in-active? To "break your covenants"?

3) (to above questions) WHY: Specifics, plz, especially regarding any teachings, scriptures, doctrines, lessons, quotes, etc. that fucked with your emotions and kept your drive to stay. The more honest the better. Don't be afraid to say you were offended (because, really, I was offended by the church's treatment of me and others, of polygamy and their sins of omission, etc). If it was something else, lemme know.

4) What emotions did you go through during and following your disaffection?

5) What did other people say? Leaders, friends, ward members, family, etc. I'm considering comparing language before leaving and after--because, yes. There's a HUGE difference. If you received one letter from a friend before leaving and then a more vitriolic response from the same friend later, I'm all for seeing it.

Thank you so much for those of you who've entrusted me with your stories so far. It means a lot.

(and so far I've only received one, one, response from a TBM. But she didn't really grasp what I was asking for. She simply told me why she thinks the church is true, not what she thinks the consequences are of leaving. Oh well. I was happy to have someone respond. Sigh)

you can email me at irreverency@att.net

thanks!

Call for Interviews

I can't wait any longer, and as a friend of mine reminded me--I can always get into the other topic at a different time (likely during my credential courses). As I'm still passionate about LDS issues, focusing on this would likely make my life a lot easier.

SO. I'm still working on the questions, but I need to interview people regarding what it was or is like to doubt/struggle with beliefs/leave the church--officially or unofficially. I won't end up interviewing everyone who offers (I only need 5 primary sources), but I need to know what I'm working with here.

Please keep in mind, I'm looking for language RE: retention (the church's efforts to keep members in the church, especially preemptive efforts) and how it manipulates emotions and thoughts or skews logic--in any medium.

So, aside from interviews, here's what I'm looking for:

- You Tube videos about leaving the church and how the church made the process a pain in the ass, please let me know about it. I'm looking at the moment but if I can find better sources, it would really help. (This could also include specific "I am a Mormon" videos which mention at all why the church is teh best and leaving is scary scary or otherwise bad)

- A scanned copy of the "please stay, [non-apology apology]" pamphlet they send out.

- Stories from those who had to fight like hell to get out of the church (after sending the letter, the church tried to excommunicate them, or otherwise made the process linger--including visits from local leaders)

- Any great articles. I've already got Jeff Holland's piece of shit temper-tantrum talk from the last conference.

- Exit stories on your blog or anyone elses, specifically stories which mention difficulty in leaving because of church authority or other members' impassioned pleas that you review your faith, your testimony, and your history. Members who implore that you repent. Doubts you had and what made you stay despite those doubts.

- Emails or letters you wouldn't mind sharing from stake/ward members, friends or family who freaked out when you left, etc.

- If you are an active member and you're reading this, a letter/comment/whatever telling me why you think leaving the church is a bad idea.

- Blog posts or comments of/from faithful members denouncing doubt, your anger, etc. A post admonishing people to "focus on the good," or talking about how "the church is perfect, but the people aren't." I'm looking for language, here, reasons leaving is not a good idea.

- Pictures, advertisements, etc.

- Anything else you think would help. 

Also, I know there are sites out there notorious for their super-anti stance, like The Mormon Curtain and otherwise. I don't doubt the veracity of these sites so much, but I need something that most people would respect, including members. Evidences where the emotions are there, but not insane. Does that make sense? I'd just rather avoid shit akin to "Godmakers," ya dig?


Thank you so much. I appreciate it a lot.


**I asked a few of my super-faithful friends for help, too (including one of my VTs). Think they'll be into it? We'll see. I figure they might fear I'll go apeshit on my project about how lame the church is OR they'll figure it's a great missionary moment. Who knows. I hope they respond. 

Retention via Obedience

You'll probably hear a lot about this in the next week or two. I can't decide whether to analyze the language of retention rhetoric in the church or focus on the current climate surrounding the "problem" of teachers.

The first is easy, though maddening. I do wonder if it would help me get over everything. It's not difficult to point out various aspects of the church's strategy to keep people in, but to lay it all out at once and see it all for what it is might help.

Then again, what am I learning? And would it help anyone else out--not the faithful, but the fringe perhaps? The non-member? Those who tell me (as I was told on friday) to focus on the rhetoric of conversion because "leaving the church is easy"?

(i corrected her tout de suite. i don't know if she was a member or just ignorant, but it didn't matter--i've grown to have an automatic impassioned response for such bullshit)

In looking at the church issue I've run into loads of it. Like this:

To obey means to follow and to accept direction...I was impressed by the remarks of Elder A. Theodore Tuttle of the First Council of the Seventy, when he asked a young man if he was preparing to go on a mission. The young man replied, ‘I don’t want to go on a mission.’ Elder Tuttle’s response was, ‘What does that matter? The Lord wants you to go.’ This is a perfect example of how the law of obedience should be exercised -- Keith Brian Rutledge, in Conference Report, Melbourne Australia Area Conference 1976, p. 18. via  "Lesson 34: Obedience," Aaronic Priesthood Manual 1, (2002)

I've heard similar BS in my own wards. Like the time my Gospel Doctrine teacher told the story of a couple invited to meet with the stake president, who would ask the husband to a rather burdensome position--bishop? Anyway, apparently the SP asked the wife if she would support this calling. She said "I don't like it." The SP said, "Too bad."

My Gospel Doctrine class, with the exception of my husband and I, laughed.

They laughed.

It's just, you know. Really?

And it's everywhere.

And I've done this for 2 1/2 years myself. All this would result in is a more nuanced understanding of one aspect and a paper. I don't particularly care anymore if there's a member in my class who might get his or her feathers in a ruffle over this--they need to know. And they probably won't. Members are olympiads when it comes to mental gymnastics.

So.

The other issue gets me off the church mindset. It would help me focus on a field I'm looking to enter into in a few years. It's part of many related issues I don't know a lot about, other than what I've seen in my own family for the last 2 1/2 years and through my interactions with my kids' teachers--not to mention the experiences I've heard from friends of mine. In that way it'd likely be educational for me as well. Right now I'm thinking of looking at what I see as the current focus--salary--and the rhetoric surrounding the argument.

Or something like that.

That, and Jon Stewart provides me with more than one fantastic commentary I could use. 

I love me some Jon Stewart.

FYI

I am going through SUCH an unattractive phase right now. While not the source, midterms and botching stupidly easy quizzes and kids with bronchitis and reading ridiculously difficult essays aren't helping.

I hope to be back with something readable and not magnificently annoying or blindly self-righteous soon. I also hope to do so by not posting and then deleting on a daily basis.

Spring break is next week. Doesn't mean much, but it's something.

Step One

(thank you, Kiley <3)

For some reason I feel the need to tell everyone since I kind of already stated that this was something I planned to do.

I'm staying away from the church and religion for my rhetoric project.

Well, I'm trying like hell to.

I know, I know. How easy would it be? I had already begun to compile articles and talks and everything. But--at the moment--I'm tired. I overheard a conversation today involving a girl who dropped her sorority. Her friends asked for a little dirt. I heard everything she said through the lens (wha?) of the Church. That's how it always is. It's always the church. The church the church the church.

And why not? That's how I've seen and heard everything for the last eleven years. It's habit.

I can't even do freewrites in class without wanting to immediately jump into something church related if only because it's too easy. I have kinda-inadvertently begun to establish myself as the ex-mormon. I see myself in particular contrast to the Catholic girl I share three classes with. She's perfectly nice, but we are opposites both politically and religiously, and so there's this barrier that shouldn't be there. A barrier I put there--it doesn't matter if she has, too, because I have. It isn't right. People are more than that.

I need to establish other facets of my personality. I have other facets...yeah?

Beats me.

I don't want to allow the church to continue to distract me to the point where I've nothing else to talk about. Not that I'm imposing a complete moratorium. It comes up because it has to. I find or see or hear something funny or maddening or ironic or moronic, I'll talk about it. It's a huge part of who I was and why I am where I am today.

But there has got to be more to life than the fucking church.

Can I please please please begin to move on?

Regret

I am not happy with my life*

Shocker, I know. I also realize I'm hardly alone. (i'm so tired of feeling as if i need to defend myself. i've all these voices in my head--conservative voices i grew up with. ones that say "oh get over it. do you know how blessed you are? do you know how much worse you could have it? suck it up, stupid. you're fine")

I wouldn't count myself as miserable, but the regret! oh god, the regret. So heavy.

I'd do so much over again. So much.

People tell me that I'm fixing things now, and I am. I get that. Yay for me! I know. I know.

Please stop saying those things. Just stop. The last time I heard "good for you!" in response to hearing that I'm back in school needs to be the last. It bothers me. The sentiment, the meaning behind "She's going back to school" and the meaning behind the response just makes my skin crawl.

Good for me, good for me. Yes. Good for me. I fucked up and I'm fixing it. I'm the old lady in the classroom going back to school. It's awful. Do you know how awful it is? I have a love-hate relationship with it. I look at all these kids--kids who were 8-10 years old when I graduated high school, omg--and look at all the extra-curricular shit going on and I just want it all back so, so bad. It's becoming tangibly pathetic, if it hasn't become that already.

I'm not depressed at the moment but these thoughts are patently depressing. I want to cry. I have lost ten years of my life.

But it's amazing to be there. Just amazing. And I so much appreciate the fact that I can even go back. It's become a process of resurrection.

I should leave it at that, no?

It's just in my face, three days a week. I think I'm fine. I can't look that old, after all. I've still got 6 months before I'm 30.

And then the perfectly nice girl who sits next to me makes some comment related to my age.


DILF and I talk about our regrets semi-regularly. They're similar. He speaks of how he wishes he could've grown up with different teachings about life, and he speaks of how he'd ditch the mission. It pissed him off to be two years behind like I am pissed at my ten (well, eight I guess). I talk about what I wish I would've done, even though knowing myself back then and my situation--I may not have. Notwithstanding that, I wish I wish I wish. How I'd do things differently.

And when we talk about these things, we recognize to each other how doing things differently would probably mean we never would've met. But we're okay with this. Is that messed up? We love each other. There are few people in this world, if any at all, who can and will put up with my bullshit and still treat me like gold. Would I be willing to give that up? Yes. I suppose I would be.

He'd be willing too, and that doesn't bother me.

In a perfect world, we'd still have met. We wouldn't have been LDS. We would've just did our thing, encouraged and supported each other until getting married was reasonable. We would've started our careers, built a financial and emotional and whatever base and then had kids. Fuck this shit about getting married ASAP and having kids even quicker despite no job and no money. Fuck it.

School makes me happy. My anxieties blow away there. I feel smart for the first time in years there. I feel respected. I feel like an adult. 

(Newsflash: getting married and having kids does not an adult make)

I might have to take all online classes next semester (logistics--better now than later, won't explain), and I'm just...disappointed. I'm terrified. Funny, given how terrified I was right before school started. Enough to make me sick, sick, sick.

I think being somewhere with people and doing things where I'm away from the dirty dishes, laundry, kids, the midday silence that breeds depressing thoughts--I think it's taking away my anxiety, and I'm hoping now that it'll cure me a bit. I'm not happy here. I know that even more now.

I know these thoughts are hardly constructive, and I'd love nothing more than to just move on. But while I'm learning to be kinder to myself, in this arena I am stubborn. I keep kicking the dead horse. It's just part of my obsessive tendencies we all love so much! I hope it blows over soon. We don't deserve this.



* I know, blasphemy! I'm out of the church, I should be on Cloud-Fucking-Nine. But remember, just as those who are in the church are not by default always happy, those who leave are not always happy. Life, it's crazy that way.

Also, just to clarify: These days I'm mostly happy, but I'm overwhelmed by this one thing right now. So I'm talking about it.

Post Plans

There are so many things I want to say, and the subjects increase each day. They include:

The problem of regret and the need for self-mercy (make sense?) Truth, I'm not sure what I mean by that last part, but I was totally into it two hours ago on my way home from school. Which is part of it, really. School, I mean. A place that represents so many things, a place that evokes so many emotions and thoughts. A place that gives me pride, a place that scares me, a place that challenges me, a place that embarrasses me--and not necessarily like you might think. I also want to speak of regret and the need for self-mercy (just go with me on that term) in a general sense.

Letters to special friends, maybe family. Not even current friends, mostly past.  One or two kinda-sorta both. All people who have impacted my life in the most significant ways. I want to keep these letters fairly vague and anonymous, but I am unconvinced this is a realistic goal. It won't matter in some respects, as long as I don't give out full names. But if you know me well enough, you will know who I speak of. My biggest worry about this is seeming desperate and pathetic though it is full of nostalgia and will also relate in some ways to the last topic I want to write about.

An About Me on steroids. Super honest, bullet points, short explanations (hahahaha!). Easier said than done, and not necessarily an idea that will fulfill my idealism.


I want to write but I've so little time to write. Four classes and I am doing little but work. It is to the point where cleaning my house is relaxing. I made up a form on Excel for our finances the other day and honest to god it helped my headache. It's not as if our finances offered much to relax from, either.

I want to write so fucking bad--more to talk. It's an impotence. It's frustrating.

Hopefully this weekend I'll be able to pop something out. Hopefully by this weekend I'll have done what I need to do (get myself to the library so I can be without distractions--except, say, facebook *sigh!*--and get ALL my shit done) and have a bit of time to just chill. The problem is, there are so many things that I need to do outside of school that now can be categorized as "chilling."

So we'll see.

Rhetoric

Short post, but I'm busting y'all.

I'm taking a rhetoric class this semester and am beyond excited about this course. I nearly exploded when he handed out an op-ed piece about the Tucson shooting--not because it was about the shooting, but because it was a political piece. Though--and probably because--I've no strong stance on whether or not the likes of Beck and Palin deserve any real direct blame for this tragedy, I had to hold myself back.

That was fun. Even more fun was contradicting everyone the next day on a different piece. I've been in the house for so long, away from what I love to do that you can't fucking shut me up now.

Anyway, part of the class is collecting pieces of strong, interesting, weak, etc. rhetorical pieces and annotating them, analyzing them. We're supposed to find a focus within the next month. Until then, we're supposed to find a variety of things to present to the class.

There are so many things I could focus on. I thought about politics, I thought about advertisements, I thought about niche magazines. Upon arriving home today I thought of using Mumford and Son's "Little Lion Man."

But that's beside the point.

Y'all know what a goldmine the church is. Rhetoric? Oh my god, it's everywhere. In fact, just the other day we received a "your daughter is turning 8!!" letter from the church (so that's why they wanted to know our address...). I was surprised by a small reaction I had from that letter. Guilt doesn't go away easily.

General Conference talks. Official newsroom responses to General Conference talks. Deseret News. Emails. Pamphlets.

EVERYWHERE.

Now I don't know if I want to expend this kind of energy on the church, but it doesn't matter. This class just might be the death of me. I'm in heaven.

Come to Institute, meat a chick.

I've bugged a few very kind and patient folks with my commentary regarding the new video I heard of regarding Tommy Monson's plea for young adults to attend institute.

...except for you fine people. And so I ask you to please follow along with me. The first video (that's right, there's two) is entitled "I've got to get to Institute" and is embedded above.

It's an unbelievably campy fun video! Low budget from the folks who bring you $4 billion dollar malls!

This vid begins with the viewer groaning in annoyance as a super-sexy boy sleeps in bed with a really annoying background noise you soon realize is his clock ticking (biological clock, perhaps?). You won't realize this until his alarm goes off and the dude wakes up, looks at it, and says "oh no!" and falls out of bed like he's totes slept in and is late for class.

Hi, stupid LDS actor guy? You didn't sleep in. Your alarm went off. The appropriate response to your alarm going off when you don't wanna wake up is "goddammit" or "gosh darn it." And please reset your alarm for an earlier time if this is an issue.

Anyways, so he smells the jacket on his bed because college guys are gross and wear gross hoodies over their pjs every day, especially when they sleep in 'till 9:40am. They also eat pizza left out on the counter (don't they know that pizza left out that long has tons of bacteria on it?) because OMG THESE ARE FER REALZ COLLEGE STUDENTS, JUST LIKE ME!

Cut to hallway scene where said guy runs into his really nerdy and untalented actor friends who stop him and tell him about their awesome new video games and invite him over to play!

Cue end-of-the-world-satan-wants-you music.

The John Bytheway wannabe then beeps at him to remind him he really ought to be at Institute. CTR, guy!

But our main character wants to have a little fun! Geez!

John Bytheway agrees, there's nothing wrong with a little fun. Yeah, I say. What's wrong with having a little bit of fun?

WAIT A MINUTE. Video games are not fun. Whatever happened to the old '80s video where the hot chicks with big blonde hair wearing shoulder pads give him the ol' eye and invite him to a non-mo party? That's fun.

But Mr. RM doesn't know about this whole "institute thing." Mahana, you ugly, he says.

But he needs Institute! and Institute needs him! It's symbiotic! There's no time for fun--besides, Institute is fun! And if that doesn't work, John Bytheway bribes him with what he calls "a bonus."

A bonus, huh? Well, since you say that...

The bonus comes in the form of a tall, blonde and pretty Utah Girl. They know each others names. Jared and Erica. I can see it inscribed on napkins already, the ones their reception guests can wipe their chins of the jello and carrot mold with.

The teacher then asks Jared if he might say the opening prayer, and he (like a good boy) agrees. The next few minutes are filled with scenes of all the kids learning and discussing things found in the scriptures.

WAIT A MINUTE! Did you all see that? THERE'S YOUR TOKEN BLACK GIRL TALKING! See, the church isn't racist!

Cut back to the main character. "I'm really feeling the spirit now," he says. "That must be that bonus I was promised."

I guess "spirit" is another word for throbbing erection?

And OMG she asked him if he was going to the Institute activity that night. SHE TOTALLY WANTS TO MARRY HIM!

Cue knowing smile that usually means "i'm getting some tonight" but in this instance means "I might get to hold her hand tonight."


And now, the second video:




This little ditty entitled "Institute Changes You" begins with this crazy condescending monologue about how awesome it is to graduate high school and how scary it is because you're now "independent" (i use this word lightly, it is speaking to mormons, after all) and have to make decisions. Where do you find stability? Why, in church! Make sure you keep in touch with other LDS kids because other people are evil and scary and LDS kids are never bad.

Besides, you can totes marry one of these people! And isn't that the most important thing?

Also, you can be yourself here

(or not).

And if the prospect of marriage doesn't grab you by the throat, the promise of free food should. Except for when you have to pay for it--I mean, donate a few bucks. We won't mention this is in addition to the tithing "donation" requisite for full salvation. We just say "free food" because, as the video reminds you, aren't college kids, like, poor?

Oh shit, there's something wrong with that. Never mind that. The serious part of Institute is the "spiritual nourishment" you'll find there. But we'll get to that in a minute.

The real world is super-duper scary. You can't make it without having church all around you, all the time.


I'm totally going to Institute now.

Resolutions 2011

I generally don't bother making new year's resolutions, but I did last year and made it through July--which, I think, is pretty damn good. My resolution was simple: read one book a month. I even kept track. Some months I only read one, some months I read up to three. I'd like to make this resolution again, but with a full load at school and a family at home, I'm not all that sure how much time or motivation I'll have for casual reading. But I'd really, really like to.

At the moment I'm reading "The Six Wives of Henry VIII" by Allison Weir and am finding it terrifically interesting. I'm now about in the middle of his fifth wife, Katharine Howard. She'll be beheaded soon. It astounds me how accurate the series The Tudors is. The show does take artistic license, but damn. This book also makes me want to travel to England that much more. It has also reignited a rather passive love I have for history, and I'm seriously considering minoring in it. History and literature go together hand in hand.

If you're on Goodreads, look me up.

So that was the resolution last year. What stopped me? School, partly, but also my cycling. I get so disinterested in books sometimes. I may want to read but can't find it in me to read. It happens especially when I'm reading a more difficult book. Last year I slowed down considerably with The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. That said, I completely recommend the novel. Narrated by Death, it tells the tale of a small girl in Nazi Germany. It is not your typical WWII novel.

This reminds me: not too recently ago I had the idea of having a Literary Sunday kind of feature. I get so obsessed with religion and mormons that I forget my very first love. Surely that deserves more of my attention. Maybe I'll do that.

Anyway, this year's resolutions:

1) Try my damndest to not be so self-deprecating. This is especially difficult to do in the throes of a bad depression, but I need to do it. A few days ago it was bad, so I wrote down everything I was worrying about with regard to myself and my life. It helped. Thinking about good things with regards to myself, however, doesn't come very easily to me.

2) Resolve to stop allowing feeling lame to get in the way of allowing friends and family to help me. I also used this resolution today when I brought up a few posts of mine at Main Street Plaza. Yes, I was lame and nominated myself, but I'm proud of those posts (Stupid Mormon Words and Stupid Mormon Phrases) and feel they deserve some consideration.

3) Keep going forward. I am terrified of going to school, to the point where I regularly attempt to convince myself it is not only better but safer to stay home instead. It's enticing, but I'm not happy here. I'm just not.

And that's really it. If I keep thinking I'll come up with more, but with the year looking like it does I don't need more. Simple is best, for sure. I might also try to clean up my posts, but I won't make any promises. This isn't an especially serious blog (well it is, but it's hardly academic), and I don't want it to be. However, it would be a good exercise in writing, which I don't do nearly as often as I should or would like.

I'd also resolve to send in my resignation, but I've already done that.

Wrestling with school. Again.

Few things these days make me angrier than the fact that I'm 29 and haven't finished school, that I'll be 35 when I'm done if the planets align and I don't have to take a break here and there. That many who I run into and am acquainted with, non-members, are those who have either finished school or who are, you know, 21 and almost done. And there are worrisome issues after that. How hard I have to fight to do it. I can blame some of it on the church, but in the end the church was the perfect scapegoat. It gave me the excuse I was looking for. But it also encouraged me to give up my dreams. It encouraged me to rely on others (read: men), just as I'd always been encouraged to do--if not men, then others. To allow my fears to get the better of me because I'd never been allowed to stand up to them before.

Do y'all have ANY IDEA how terrified I am? Any idea? Two days ago I was looking up the phone number so I could call the university to tell them I couldn't do it. After all the bullshit I've fought past, all it took was one little phone call to the university day care program and the simple comment "There's really a slim to no chance you'll get your son in, so don't get your hopes up. We don't have much if any turnover this time of year."

Motherfucker!

You have to understand, and you'll likely remember if you've been here a while, even this past semester where I took ONE CLASS at my local community college I had to fight like hell just to be able to take just ONE CLASS. And to do that, I had to rely on the amazing help of my amazing step-MIL who picked up my kids once a week and then one other day when I had to help out in Joseph's class because putting the older two in the after-school program for a grand total of 45 minutes for $12 is ridiculous. I understand I could leave them there longer, but there's no reason for that. I would have, though, if I had to. If she wasn't so willing.

Now I feel bad.

I have a super-guilt complex when it comes to my kids, even though I told myself since high school that I would not repeat what my mom did: give herself entirely for my brother and I. I know this sounds noble, but she's always been so unhappy and without anything else to turn to when we were gone. It made her hold onto us that much harder because she didn't know what to do with herself when we weren't there. While it is certainly attributed to our own personalities, it didn't help us become independent in the least respect. I'm still struggling.

I still don't know if this is church-related or what. I really don't.

But next semester, in order for me to attend my classes, I very well may have to call on some more help. Three days a week. Step-MIL home-schools, as does MLDSFDTS. SMIL said she could watch Joseph for me on Fridays. My cousin volunteered quite freely to help, but she's got some things to work out for herself and may not always be available. I'm sure I could work something out, but y'all, it exhausts me to think of doing this again. I'm almost broken.

And neither Eric or I enjoy asking for help of this caliber. It's a lot to ask, and it requires a lot of trust on my part.

And it makes me so fucking angry. I'm angry because Eric didn't need to worry about this shit. He had his own things to worry about, granted, but he didn't have to worry about scheduling around me or the kids. At all. And in that way I feel terribly alone. Eric is willing to do what he can, and without his support I wouldn't even be trying, but even then: alone.

I don't know if I can do this. I'm pretty determined, but there's still a chance I'll opt to wait out until Joseph is in the first grade and I at least don't have to worry about this daycare stuff. I hate the idea of dropping him off at my cousin's house--he doesn't really know her (i can fix that somewhat) and I don't know how much fun he'd have there. I hate the idea of what my schedule will be like three-days-a-fucking-week. An hour there, four hours in class, race home to pick them up, ten minutes later pick up Joe at his preschool here. I also have my online class to worry about.

Y'all, I don't handle stress well. I really don't. Sometimes I do, but there are days...and that makes me question this entire thing. But I also think about what going will mean. And if I can't teach for whatever reason, there are other options. When I remember why I'm going, what it will do for me and my family, I've never been more determined.

The church took this away from me. Not directly, but indirectly. And I'm pissed. It didn't care about me enough to encourage this good thing. It told me to stay home, barefoot and pregnant all the time. It told me to multiply and replenish the fucking earth all on my own. It told me to submit (sorry, "hearken") to my husband. It told me that I could work only if I fucking had to, but even then that work such as that of a secretary was all I should do. Only single women in the early twenties who have "no opportunity" to marry a man are allowed to finish college. And I had the opportunity. Thank God I married a good man. I swear I'd be divorced by now if I hadn't.

And then what.

And not only that, but this whole fucking bipolar thing. It makes these things 100x harder. And while I'm fairly certain it would've reared its ugly head at some point anyway, my "heeding" the church's ugly teachings triggered it earlier than it probably would have otherwise.

This brings me to sobbing tears every day lately. The kids don't remember Eric being gone all the time, going to school. Abbie remembers a little, but it's like her surgeries and doctors appointments: she sees the scars and remembers some of the invasive procedures and yearly ultrasounds, but they're a forgone memory. She was young. They're done. They'll remember me being gone. They don't quite understand it. And I simply don't feel like a "good mom" anyway--mostly because now I don't know what the fuck to do. I've nothing to fall back on. Though I've known life sans The Church since I grew up without it, that's hardly a mold I want to use. I tell others my mom did the best she can, but while she didn't beat me and abuse me like her own parents did, I took and still take my own brunt. Then I have the genes from my father that freak me the fuck out. I'm fighting my genes, people. It's hard to convince myself I don't have to be them, that I can choose their best traits. But even then, their best traits simply aren't mine. I'm a fighter, but I can only do so much.

I do know I bust my ass for them as best I can, and I'm going to school for them as much as I am for me. But my best and your best aren't necessarily the same.

I want to be an example to my daughter--my sons too, but mostly my daughter.

I also know that if I thought this would be the worst thing for them, I wouldn't do it. But I also know that if I didn't do it, my anger would simply grow and my depression and sense of self-worth worsen. I'd be my mom. I can't fucking have that. My kids don't deserve that.

And now that I think of it, perhaps I AM doing what my mom did to us: making life too goddamn easy. They need to suck it up sometimes.

So, I'm going. I just hope it works out in the end. This is one area where my ten years of church still very much has a hold on me, and it pisses me off. So much.

Call for Help: Creating Avid Readers

My students are bright and inquisitive about the things that interest them. Many of them come from lower-income neighborhoods. They have been told that their voices and opinions don't always count because they don't have lots of money, or they don't speak English fluently. But they have a fire in them to be heard, and they have a curiosity about the world. They are just now learning how valued and important they are, that their choices matter, that they have a right to know things about their world. - Ms. B, Creating Avid Readers

You may remember some months ago when I plugged a project of a long-time friend of mine, a teacher down in Austin, Texas. After the success of said project (asking for help in acquiring a variety of fiction books to appeal to her specific student demographic), she's now hoping for help in acquiring a variety of non-fiction books for her students.

And today is her birthday.

Anyway, if you have the extra cash and willingness (these kids need support), please visit her project page at DonorsChoose.org and donate whatever you can to help. One dollar, five dollars--whatever you can. The site makes payment really easy, and you don't have to make an account to do so.

Speaking as the wife of a teacher and friend of many teachers, our educators severely lack support, financially and otherwise. Consider making this your monthly charitable action, part of your Christmas giving. I know many ask for money (god do I know--daily emails) and that it can be overwhelming especially during this time of year, but check it out. Discovering a love for books, discovering knowledge, can not only change the life of a child but of those who the child comes in contact with as they go through their lives. It's a well-known saying, but it doesn't mean it isn't true: knowledge is power.


Thanks so much  <3

Back to School

I haven't talked about this much yet, but I imagine I should just get it out of the way. It's likely to make a semi-regular appearance here.

I was accepted to university after much "oooh we dunno, it depends on the budget" crap. I found out about the green light three weeks ago.

Woo!

A bit of history:

I can't say my mom encouraged my brother and I to go to college. It was expected. It was beaten into our heads. We would go because she didn't and look at what happens? Nothing, right.

I didn't think much about where I'd go specifically until prooobably my junior or senior year of high school. I was a good student, I tried, but not to my potential. Also, I was a fairly talented manipulator. A quiet, well-mannered girl wants an extra day or two to turn this in? Okay! I still dunno how I got away with not doing the frog unit in biology and still getting the credits. It wasn't a matter of ethics or anything, I just...I don't know. I didn't want to do it and the teacher was a bit of a dope, so I wiggled my way out of it somehow.

My GPA wasn't bad at all (3.5+) but I had this inflated idea of what it really was in my head what with my English honors and AP courses, my French 3 Honors class, etc. Someone who should've known better actually allowed me to think I had a chance at Salutatorian. I didn't, of course. I didn't give honors or AP classes any thought until my sophomore year English teacher told me I was talented and really smart, worth so much more--and then recommended me for the junior English honors course (which I LOVED). I can't remember anyone ever really telling me those things or thinking those things about me before. I'd always loved English, writing, but never really considered it as something to pursue. Not that I had considered much--except for maybe working for Walt Disney one day drawing for his movies. Hahahaha. Oh, technology. But seriously, I liked to draw as a kid. Pretty good, too.

So I had a bit of a late start as far as giving enough of a shit. I was smart, my family said. Maybe not as smart as my brother, of course, who had completed Algebra I by the eighth grade, but smart. Mostly street smart. Got As, but yanno. Didn't get the computer, didn't know how to work a VCR by age 6, that sort of thing. He was smart, I was a smart-ass.

But I knew college was on the horizon. And I knew I lovedloved Santa Cruz. So I took a tour of UCSC and omg fell in love. It's a beautiful, gorgeous, outstanding campus--some buildings literally bestow upon its students a view of the ocean. Other classes are smack dab in the middle of towering Redwoods. It's an extremely liberal campus as well (i was a bit of a liberal teen) with its own dormitories for GBLTQ students and the like.

I could forgive that its mascot was a fricken banana slug. It had a fantastic English/creative writing program! Oh!

But, you know. It's a University of California. They kinda wanted good grades. Fantastic SAT scores. ACT. Extra-curriculars. You get the idea. I swept all reality aside and grabbed the appropriate papers and brochures and had wet dreams at night over going to this university.

3.5 GPA is good, but I don't remember if it was good enough. Again, I didn't give a shit until it was too late. I didn't know that my efforts weren't enough, and like many teens just wasn't motivated until it was too late.

Then I took the SAT and BOMBED the motherfucker. Seriously. I'm ashamed even now to disclose my score of which I've pretty much erased from memory. I do know I scored above a 1000 but not a hell of a lot higher. It was that bad, y'all. I should pat myself on the back for at least getting my name correct.

I think I did acceptably well on the ACT, but don't ask me what my score was. 24? 26? 27? I dunno. Maybe my memory of "acceptable" is just me comforting myself after an abysmal performance on the SAT.

I still don't understand these scores. I don't believe I'm dumb or that I ever was, so really? REALLY? Why didn't I retake the tests? I DON'T KNOW. I think by the time I got my score I had pretty much decided I wasn't going anywhere but the community college. I wasn't even sure the university I'm attending now would take me with that score. I didn't even bother looking into it. I just gave up.

My only consolation was that I'd attend the CC that my peers wouldn't attend. I wanted nothing to do with them after having grown up with them. Small town + nerdy rep + 12 years = suckfest.

So I signed up at the CC under the guise of "transferring to UCSC in two years." After the initial placement test, I was lauded as totally smart (this is not far away from said pre-columbine "everyone reads!" high school). I qualified for the equivalent of Algebra I and they were seriously impressed. I shrugged. My first semester at college was basically my senior year of high school replayed. I still got a C in science.

Then I met Squeaky, joined the church, couldn't figure out what the fuck I was going to do for school because English was unacceptable and I tired of my parents and their shit with my financial aid and their taxes. Eventually I burnt out and dropped out.

After that, I'd pretty much given up on ever transferring to a university. I dreamed about it, tried taking a few classes, but good moms stay home. I'd wait and maybe go when I was fifty.

So this is pretty awesome, and I am fairly terrified and nervous for a number of reasons. I'm doing my best to push those aside because it's pretty cool when you leave the church and find you can do stuff like this, something really good for me and for my family. That is my hope and my faith, at least.

You'll probably hear a lot about it. I might just schedule a once-a-week thing later. I dunno. My major is English Education. If I don't completely freak out and my emotions don't get the better of me and the planets align as I need them to, I'll be credentialed by 2015. Thirty-four years old. Has its pros, for sure.

But really, I hope to god I can be to some kid what Mrs. Parker was for me. I'll never forget her. She turned "go to college or else" to "you are smart and especially talented here. Go after this. You can and you should."

Can't tell you what that still does for me, nearly 15 years later. Amazing.