Exponent II's Blog, page 182

Together Forking Forever

The Good Place is wildly popular generally, but seems to be particularly attractive to the Mormons I know. Jana Riess has written about some of the good reasons Mormons might enjoy the show. As the series wrapped up this week, I couldn’t stop thinking, “Who in the writers’ room grew up Mormon??” Below, I highlight some of the strongest and most intriguing ties between our theology and this wacky show about the afterlife. Fair warning: spoilers abound.

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Continual Progression: The entire series is based around the idea that people can move toward better versions of themselves. Even non-human characters like Janet, Michael, and Sean get better. The step by step, day by day language we hear every week in gospel doctrine, sounds a lot like being rebooted 150 million times.

In Season 3, the team reveals that the system of assigning points for what happens on earth isn’t nuanced enough. Individual circumstances and backgrounds create an uneven playing field. The answer, in Season 4, is to give everyone more time to learn. More practice, more learning, more growth. The develop a temporary afterlife, where people go after they die but before they are judged for eternity. There are teachers there to help them be better. That idea should sound familiar to Mormons.

Near the end of Season 4, it becomes clear that the great failure of Heaven is that there isn’t any further progression. When spiritual beings can just wander around having everything they want for eternity, their brains start to go soft. Tahani’s path looks the most like the Mormon concept of Heaven. She spends her Bearimies of eternity continually learning: how to make furniture, how to cook, how to do house repairs. Increasing in knowledge makes her a better version of herself. When she’s crossed everything off her list, she decides to become an architect, one of the divine beings who designs worlds. Happy to go to work, she finds meaning to eternal life by endless learning and effort.

The Gift of Mortality: Eternal progression closely ties into the reason for mortality, which for Mormons is not merely a testing time but also a learning time. Mormons believe that God designed Earth so that we could grow and learn. Michael’s series-long fascination with mortality culminates in the final episode, in which he decides to shed his immortality so that he can have the learning experiences that come from being human. Eleanor stresses to Michael that none of them know how his stint on earth will turn out–the system they’ve established may collapse in his absence–but for Michael, the threat of walking into the unknown is balanced by the potential for the growth that can only come from time as a mortal.

Heavenly Mother: In the beginning of the show, Janet appears to be more of a robotic servant than anything else. She fetches things and provides information, but isn’t really in charge of anything. But as time goes on and she’s rebooted again and again, Janet steps into her real power. We find out that she was the creative force behind the formation of the Bad Good Place and that she has capabilities that far outstrip Michael’s. She becomes the humans’ fiercest protector, journeying with them in an effort to guide them to real Good Place. But while she is all-knowing and extraordinarily powerful, she also communes with them. She is a true friend to them. This resonated with me, as my Mormon-self understands God as both powerful and approachable.

It’s the near the very end of the show that she most closely resembles the Mormon idea of a Heavenly Mother. As Michael prepares for his sojourn on earth, she stands on the edge of the door to earth, fretting over his safety. She tells him about the preparations she made for him and reminds him to see a doctor when he first arrives. Her concern for him as he journeys to Earth is clearly reminiscent of a parent sending off a child leaving home. Janet also serves as the person who guides Chidi, Eleanor, and Jason forward, through the door to whatever lies afterward. She is the one who moves people through the veil to the next stage of their development, which is one of the roles I have always imagined for the divine feminine.

Community: For Mormons, exaltation is not merely a relationship between an individual and God. We believe that we learn the most important lessons through our communities: that Zion cannot happen without people coming together and teaching and giving and serving and sacrificing and living together. We can become good people on our own, but we cannot reach the greatest heights of our potential. This is a running theme of The Good Place, which frequently stresses that while Hell may sometimes feel like other people, other people are actually how we become better. In the last episode, Eleanor takes this message to Mindy St. Claire, telling Mindy that while leaving her house in the Medium Place will be uncomfortable, it will also lead her to her greatest joy and highest potential. 

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Over four years of watching this show, I’ve sometimes laughed at myself for taking philosophical and theological lessons from a television series. But then I’m reminded of another Mormon teaching: embrace truth wherever you find it, for it will be circumscribed into one great whole.

Entangled,Engaged , and Empowered : From victim to survivor to conqueror

I was born on Valentines Day , a day set aside to remember those we love ,to eat candy and to well  urr eat our hearts out. I never really liked sharing my special day with this holiday because I always felt devoid of love in my heart. I didn’t need a reminder that I didn’t have the privilege to love or to be loved. It is this feeling of unworthiness that lead me to find a place to call home ,find a refuge from the storm and peace in the chaos of my mind.

In  the early 90’s my mother came across Sister Missionaries in the street and on Christmas Eve, she and I were baptized. Each time I entered the chapel,I knew that I was different, yet I felt loved and accepted for the first time in my life.

As my membership turned from weeks into months, I began to realize that there were certain differences I had to hide. I cringed every Sunday that I pulled on a dress and put on heavy mask so that God would love me. I silently cried when I realized that I couldn’t never marry who I love.

I became entangled in this idea that my picture had to match everyone else’s portrait. The more I tried to correct the images on my mural,the more distorted they became  and the lines blurred. On the outside,my image matched my friends around me but behind the canvas,I was slowly tearing away from the frame I had built.

 

Just as the canvas of my life hung on bent nail of despair, I found myself violated on my 14th birthday .  I was targeted by an older( Later found out he was almost 19 ) young man . He started the evening off by sitting closely by me during the fireside that preceded the dance. When I tried to change my seat, a youth leader said I was not being Christlike. I sat through the meeting as he quietly groped me and whispered digusting things.

Later on, he requested to dance with me and another leader encouraged me continuing dancing when I tried to pull away. This young man then pulled me into the center of the dance floor and continued to touch me inappropriately and force me to touch him.

Some of his buddies came around us to watch and for a moment he let go. I was able to break free and made it into the hall. I told my friend (who was not lds and attended my high school) and she told me not to go back into the dance. She and I went into the restroom together to chat.

On the way back out, she stopped at the hall phone to check in with her parents. I told her to meet me in a room (a primary classroom) so that we could hang out there until our ride came. As I was walking to the classroom, I was pulled into another room and raped by this young man.He told me he knew that I liked girls and that he was going to show me what a real man love was like. He said he was going to marry me and after that I blacked out.I woke up drugged ,in pain and my life would never be the same. 

I immediately became engaged with sorrow , depression, and the death of my soul. The ring of the situation hung about my neck like millstone dragging me down towards death. It was lengthy engagement that concluded with a mental breakdown in my early 20’s. After I was that wrinkled piece of paper,that wadded up piece of gum, and the half-eaten candy bar.

Therapy, love, faith and hard work has done much to bring about the healing I need. Healing is a process of reconnecting and accepting that ones picture is forever different but  not without benefit. Healing is a system of breaking off the engagement one slow ,painful, intricate piece at a time. Emotional and Mental Healing is really no different than Physical Healing. The bigger the injury the longer it will take to recover. Healing from trauma is as process that to me lasts a  lifetime.

As we untangle and reconnect to ourselves and  others in a positive way, we grow from victim to survivor to conqueror. No matter where we may be in this journey, it does not reflect on who we are as a person . We are are wounded and no one has the right to judge us for our response. At the end of the day, it is the person in the mirror to whom we should have the most loyalty and compassion.

I have learned that while life experience affect who we are , we still have the power within us to be our true authentic selves.  We are powerful,wonderful and great just because were born . We do not owe anyone an explanation for actions,the way we feel or how we react to those who abuse us.  

 

As my birthday and “engagement anniversary” approaches, I decided to share my story in hopes of  giving a voice to those whose stories are not yet told. So often we think of conquering as negative.That in essence, we are taking over or taking back something from someone else. To me a conqueror is someone who finds the will to stand -up when everyone else says they should sit down. A conqueror’s glory is not that she “overcome adversity” but that she wakes up every morning even still. She may not get dressed or comb her hair or even brush her teeth. There is no failure in this ,only victory because she has woken up to face another day.

I am a conqueror simply because I am me and I am enough. and so are you.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/17es47kCac0W1_XtExIHzCOf6snvEohHdguw8OYp2h0Q/edit?usp=sharing

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xlxzj76E_r59dAc-UX9TtLI71hgQPMWWbwGXVjj3mKA/edit?usp=sharing

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Photo by burak kostak on Pexels.com

 

Guest Post: Young Mormon Feminists (Re)Unite!

[image error]by Brittany Sweeney-Lawson

Saying Young Mormon Feminists has a bit of a rebellious streak would be putting it mildly. The very foundation for the blog was set back in July 2012 when founder Hannah Wheelwright was still a student at Brigham Young University, and received a particularly memorable visit from her home teachers. They informed her in no uncertain terms that her progressive and feminist ideals could be the perfect storm that would ultimately lead her away from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Little did they probably suspect their conversation with Hannah would be the catalyst that would help launch a Provo Feminists Facebook page, a place for like-minded women to congregate and share their thoughts and experiences as feminist women of faith. As it turned out, Mormon women liked feeling both seen AND heard, and hundreds of them flocked to the Facebook page. It became so popular, in fact, that it was eventually turned into its own blog website, today known as youngmormonfeminists.org.

The blogosphere in the early 2010’s was not short on worthy Mormon feminist blogs, but what would set Young Mormon Feminists apart was a specific space designed for a younger generation of feminists who were part of a different wave than that of their predecessors— unapologetic, edgy, and focused on intersectionality. Since its inception, Young Mormon Feminists has been visited by hundreds of thousands of people and accumulated hundreds of posts from bloggers on topics ranging from reviews of LDS literature, to postulating about the gay law of chastity, and everything in between.

After several years at the helm of YMF, Hannah Wheelwright decided to pass on the administrative torch in 2017 in order to pursue other passions and interests. Fortunately, from time to time, several talented bloggers continued to produce content that challenged readers to think critically about their beliefs and examine their biases. And so, the blog has lived on, but at present, it is in need of new blood. Currently, the torch is being carried by me, Brittany Sweeney-Lawson, and my goal is to not do so alone.

So if you, yes YOU reading this right now feel fired up about feminism, I invite you to join YMF as a contributing writer and help spread the gospel of intersectionality and inclusivity. It takes a beehive to make a Deseret, ergo, we need voices from all genders, races, and walks of life represented on the blog. If you’d like to learn more or already have ideas for posts percolating in your head, reach out to me at youngmormonfeminists@gmail.com. To see some of the posts that have made the blog so impactful in the past, visit the website at youngmormonfeminists.org, and/or join the Facebook group and page.

Below is some additional information taken directly from YMF’s “About” website page that will help elucidate the blog’s purpose, who its audience is, and also answer some frequently asked questions.

We are young Mormon feminists advocating for change.

We are young:

We respect the sacrifices and efforts of people in the feminist movement throughout history. Their tenacity and unwillingness to compromise on the values they held dear resonate with us as stalwart examples of commitment to progress. We embrace this heritage and are dedicated to carrying it on as the next generation of young feminists. We are not naive; we may not remember or have even been alive at the time of many important feminist events, but we are actively seeking to learn and understand our heritage as we continue to fight for women’s rights today.

We are Mormon:

We are current members, past members, questioning members, and people who culturally identify as Mormons. We decry attempts to demean our faith based on our quest for greater understanding and equality. We value the efforts of Mormons who have battled both publicly and privately, loudly and silently, for change. As we navigate the paths of our own coming-of-age eras, we appreciate the ability to learn, grow, and take action for what we believe is right. We plead for a common understanding that each individual’s understanding of and relationship with deity is personal, private, and not to be coarsely judged by others.

We are feminists: 

We define feminism as the advocacy for women’s rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality. Furthermore, we acknowledge that there are a myriad of different oppressions and dedicate ourselves to the dismantling of kyriarchy. We reject the acceptance of extreme connotations as the definition for feminism and urge all people to do the same.  We are not ashamed to call ourselves feminists. We are people actively seeking to eradicate vestiges of injustice in our societies in small and simple ways.

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q. Exactly how young is “young”?
A. Although all are welcome on this blog, the average visitor is between 15-30 years of age.

Q. I see that some of your articles are not strictly about Mormons and feminism. What’s up with that?
A. Not everything is strictly related to the LDS Church, but we all write from the perspective of being young Mormon feminists.

Q. Why are there so many men contributing? This is supposed to be a feminist blog!
A. Our vision for the future of the feminist movement is that it will be made up of people of all sexes and genders. Everyone is affected by patriarchy and kyriarchy, and we welcome all people to educate themselves and eliminate oppression however they can.

Q. Do you have a current temple recommend? Does your bishop know about this? How can you be faithful members?!
A. As stated above, every contributor’s standing before God is their own business. We appreciate you not judging us for our heartfelt searchings for understanding. Also, not all of the contributors are currently active members.

Q. I think you just need to have a little more faith.
A. Thank you for your opinion.

Q. I have a question but it’s kind of personal. How can I contact you?
A. You can always email us at youngmormonfeminists@gmail.com. We welcome your questions!

 

Whiter My God to Thee

[image error]“Does this dress make me look darker?” queried my mother as she got ready for church. This was a routine question in my home. Some colors of clothing could make brown skin look darker. I knew why this was bad. My whiter-than-me father would read to me nightly from an illustrated Book of Mormon stories book. The bad guys were the Lamanites and their skin color looked the same as my mother’s skin tone. The Nephites were the good guys and like the Crayola flesh color in my crayon box they looked like my father. When I was old enough to read The Book of Mormon on my own I gained more information as to why children of God come in different colors. “And the skins of the Lamanites were dark, according to the mark which was set upon their fathers, which was a curse upon them because of their transgression and their rebellion against their brethren, who consisted of Nephi, Jacob, and Joseph, and Sam, who were just and holy men.” (Book of Mormon, Alma 3:6) 

To my young mind, the meaning of this scripture was clear. Just and holy humans are white. Darker skin is a curse. Reading this scripture helped me to understand why my mother dyed her hair with Clairol Ash Blonde and washed my hair with the yellow bar of manzanilla soap (brought by our grandmother from Mexico) and straightened my naturally curly hair. Lighter hair worked like the right colors of clothing. It would make my skin color look whiter. 

In primary as my class prepared for baptism we learned more about the symbolism of being white. Baptism clothing must be white. Temple clothing must be white. White represented purity and absence of sin. Sister Davis put red food coloring in a glass pitcher of water and that color represented sin. Then she added bleach from a bottle labeled baptism and repentance and the color was removed from the water and it appeared clear again. Through the words I read and the pictures in my storybook I was beginning to internalize racism. That means I believed racist ideas to be true as they applied to me. I believed skin color made some children of God inferior to other children of God. I believed I was less worthy than my lighter-skinned friends. The first principle of the gospel that I could testify of with conviction was this: I believe white people are more righteous than darker people. Dark skin is a curse. I was born cursed.

My theology of colorism evolved quickly in the year leading up to my baptism. I made doctrinal connections! Jesus Christ atoned for the sins of the whole human race and the color was removed from the red water making it pure again. This was almost the same as my parent’s fairy tale marriage. My white father came to Mexico as a missionary and brought the gospel to my mother’s family and many other Lamanites. Then he returned years later to redeem my mother from the wicked land of the Lamanites because she read her scriptures and never danced at the disco and was pretty and thin. He brought her to Salt Lake City to be married in the temple (that looks like a princess castle) my white pioneer ancestors helped to build. My parents started a family and the removal of color began. The cleansing of the curse could be observed in my skin tone and that of my siblings. We were lighter than our mother the Lamanite convert. We weren’t as white as my father yet, but definitely lighter-skinned than my mother.

My Mexican grandmother had words for this divine process of cleansing people of their color to make them whiter. She said, “Mejorando la raza” or bettering the race. As a young adult she would evaluate each man I dated by how white our future babies could be. The worth of a potential mate correlated directly to the fairness of his skin and hair.

During a childhood visit to white-grandma in Salt Lake City my mother did something quite bold. She called the church office building and as a humble Lamanite mother requested an audience with the prophet, Spencer W. Kimball so her Lamanite children could meet him. A few days later we were on our way in our Sunday best to meet The Prophet. My mom explained why this prophet was special. He loved the Lamanite people. And he could see when Lamanites were getting whiter because of their righteousness. This prophet would be able to see how white and delightsome my siblings and I were becoming. He might even be able to see that my mother was becoming lighter! The following words of Spencer W. Kimball likely inspired my mother’s gospel teaching:

The day of the Lamanites is nigh. For years they have been growing delightsome, and they are now becoming white and delightsome, as they were promised…The children in the home placement program in Utah are often lighter than their brothers and sisters in the hogans on the reservation…. At one meeting a father and mother and their sixteen-year-old daughter were present, the little member girl-sixteen sitting between the dark father and mother, and it was evident she was several shades lighter than her parents on the same reservation, in the same Hogan, subject to the same sun and wind and weather. There was the doctor in a Utah city who for two years had had an Indian boy in his home who stated that he was some shades lighter than the younger brother just coming into the program from the reservation. These young members of the Church are changing to whiteness and delightsomeness. One white elder jokingly said that he and his companion were donating blood regularly to the hospital in the hope that the process might be accelerated.-Prophet Spencer W. Kimball, General Conference, Oct. 1960

We met the prophet. He was kind and friendly and my mother was thrilled with the approbation of the holiest man on earth. I learned the importance of having a white male witness to our family efforts to become more white.

As a child victimized by the racism of my religious community the loudest evangelists for racism were not the whitest Mormons I knew. It was the darkest people in my family that most valued whiteness. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints has since edited and removed language naming people of color as dark and loathsome. But editing and retracting words came too late to remove internalized racism from the tight weave of my family tapestry. During a recent visit with my Mexican aunts and grandmother, I shared the results of my DNA testing. All were delighted to discuss the 1% French and 6% Swedish ancestry. But no one would make eye contact with me when I shared the significantly larger percentages of African and Indigenous ancestry. 

I know why they averted their gaze. They joined the Church at a time when those of African ancestry were denied participation in temple ordinances. There would have been no fairytale sealing in the Salt Lake City Temple for my mother and father if the significant African ancestry of my maternal family was known. No white and delightsome redemption from the Lamanite curse. Surely they suspected African ancestry with a family tree that included Él Negro -The Black One. But they remained silent about their ancestry and my mother was sealed to my father six years before the temple ban was lifted.

The lack of eye-contact and pregnant silence from my family is unsurprising. Of course, they did their best to pass for as white and delightsome as possible. The institution of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has not met the gaze of the many people of color in its membership with rigorous truth-telling, reconciliation or an anti-racism plan to correct over a century of wicked falsehoods on the meaning of skin color. 

The leadership of the Church still does not look like its members. Although edits and clarifications have removed some of the racism from the texts and teachings of the Church, the people who serve in positions of power do not look like heaven to me. I no longer believe that a great bleaching of melanin from the skin will be part of the resurrection. I don’t believe becoming white is a requisite for exaltation. But the leadership of the Church still looks to me like white is most delightsome and Mormon heaven will be a racist place.

Winners of the Exponent Art Scholarship: Karyn Dudley

Last year, Exponent started an annual art scholarship for Mormon women of color. The goal of the scholarship continues to be to amplify the voices of LDS women artists of color by lending needed support for them to be able to continue to develop their art.

Over the next few weeks, we will be sharing the work and words of some of the recipients of that scholarship. These extraordinary women have the ability to seismically change the artistic language of the Church: imagine Come Follow Me manuals, Church members’ homes or Church building hallways full of their work. We’re grateful that they shared it with this community and look forward to announcing this year’s scholarship very soon. If you’d like to contribute to the fund for this year’s scholarship, please contact exponentiieditor AT gmail DOT com.

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Karyn Dudley: I call myself an artist because that is who I am in my soul for as long as I can remember. When I was young, my grandmother noticed my artistic ability and gave me a box of random things to see what I could do with it. It had pencils, paper, glue, material scraps and other odds and ends. At the time I didn’t do anything brilliant or breath taking, but I do remember spending hours creating drawings with people featuring button eyes and fabric hair. Eventually I would go to college as an art major.

 Unfortunately I was also a poor student. So when having to make the choice between food and rent or purchasing art supplies for class, food and rent won out. That was back in the 80’s. I felt my “arting” was a thing of the past.

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 Fast Forward to about 4 years ago:  my daughter sent me to one of the popular “Paint Nite” activities as a birthday gift. I lost myself in it. Something that was lying dormant woke up with a vengeance! I had gone to a couple more  “Paint Nites” after that and thought… I can do this at home!

 One weekend I headed to Hobby Lobby and  $375 later emerged with enough Art supplies that would keep me enraptured in my glorious hobby for quite some time. Any spare moment I had I could be found  sketching and painting. I found I had a million faces and expressions in me bursting to come forward. Some of them were religious and political and just good ole fashion fun and frivolous. Each creation was a friend I was waiting to meet! And when the art started communicating with me, I knew THIS is what I was put on Earth to do: have a voice and teach other to have a voice through art expression.

 

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 So basically overnight I created  “KarynMichelle- Creative Expressions.”  I am now an independent artist with a small unrecognized business.  “Speaking is not your only voice” is my Slogan! “ART out loud” is my Motto. I specialize in ethnic art.   Anything from Black Jesus to Black Ballet dancers. People of color are not easily found in art doing everyday positive things. They aren’t easily found in likenesses that are modest , loving , and show everyday living. I would like to create more of that vision so we, especially the youth, see ourselves as more than booty and hips and thugs and lips. The world needs to see likenesses of People of Color that are more than what is stereotypically seen in the media.

 I have a vision of a mobile art unit traveling from place to place around the community: local libraries, community centers, after school programs, summer “art in the park” classes and even farmer’s markets and fairs and providing art experiences. I would teach people  young and old how art is a way of communicating and expressing themselves and give them the opportunity to create and express themselves through art.

Top Ten Female-led Podcasts, Refreshed

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Mohammad Metri

A little over three years ago, I wrote a blog post about my ten favorite female-led podcasts at the time.  However, a lot of those podcasts have stopped producing new episodes or have gotten a little stale, so I thought I’d offer a fresh reboot for 2020.  If you want to make sure you hear women’s voices in 2020, here are some great sources.

Exponent’s Religious Feminism Podcast.  If you’re not already subscribed to this one, you’re going to want to remedy that immediately.  Blogger and host April Young Bennett does a fabulous job of interviewing feminist women of different faiths and exploring how their journeys within religion and feminism have informed their lives, and how their journeys are similar (or not) to those within Mormonism.  I always leave these episodes feeling informed, edified, and less lonely in this dark and dreary patriarchal world.  You can find the blog posts accompanying the episodes here, or click here to find them on Apple Podcasts.

When Feminists Rule the World.  This podcast is produced by the Nobel Women’s Initiative and is hosted by Martha Chaves, who is a Nicaraguan-born comedian and feminist who interviews women from all over the world in how they’re working to make the world a better place.  Each episode takes the premise of “when feminists rule the world…” and provides an answer, like “there will be no wall” and “there will be peace in the Middle East.”  I suggest starting this one from the beginning and listening the whole way through – the episodes build on each other very so slightly, and they are hilarious and inspiring.  It’s also a limited run – as far as I know, the episode on peace in the Middle East is the last of the series, but they’re a must-listen for any feminist and/or activist who wants to understand advocating for women around the world.  Click here to find them on Apple Podcasts, and click here to find out more about the Nobel Women’s Initiative.

Unladylike is a podcast that is hosted by Cristen Conger and Caroline Ervin, who used to host Stuff Mom Never Told You (which I recommended in my previous podcast blog post).  They have since moved to host the much more intersectionally-minded Unladylike podcast, where they combine their research with guest hosts to talk about topics like accessibility, climate change, women’s sexual health, equal pay, and a whole lot more.  They take topics that are in the news, and provide a feminist lens to critique what we accept as “normal” and to question the foundations of how patriarchy has influenced the way the world works.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here to find their site.

Hysteria.  If you want a podcast that mixes politics, pop culture, and feminism, the women at Hysteria have you covered.  Each weekly episode starts with a chat between host Erin Ryan and former Obama Deputy Chief of Staff Alyssa Mastromonaco about the political happenings of the prior week, after which Erin has a deeper panel discussion with a rotating cast of hosts on a relevant  topic and how it affects women (examples include why men don’t see films predominantly about women, beauty pageants, virginity as a construct, and the pressure to always be happy).  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here for the website, including extra resources for each episode.

Unf*ck Your Brain.  This is a podcast geared toward “high-achieving feminist women who struggle with anxiety, self-doubt, and impostor syndrome.”  It is done from a life-coaching perspective (led by certified master coach Kara Loewentheil) of identifying thinking errors and assumptions and replacing them with better/more accurate assumptions.  This can then help you achieve desired outcomes with better confidence and assertiveness.  And, unlike a lot of self-help or “rah rah women empowerment” books, this is much less “dream it and you’ll make it” and much more nitty-gritty into how patriarchy has informed how we think and feel about things.  This one can feel repetitive to me, but I think that might be part of the point, and I think it’s helped me have a better handle on tackling my own insecurities and issues.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here to find Kara’s site with podcast episodes and other resources.

Sold in America. This is an eight-episode limited series into the world of human trafficking and prostitution in America.  It is hosted by Noor Tagouri, who is a Libyan-American journalist whose personal evolution on sex work is documented within the podcast series, and it explores the complexities of sex work and the women (and men) involved in it.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click to find the website.

Caliphate.  This is another limited-series podcast hosted by Rukmini Callimachi which documents her reporting on the ISIS caliphate.  It talks about the rise of ISIS, interviews former participants within the ISIS fighters, and discovers a lot about the structure and financing of ISIS.  It’s a fascinating look into the rise and fall of the caliphate, and sheds a ton of light onto modern day religious extremism.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here to find the NYTimes site for it.  As a side note, a great book to read to accompany this podcast is “Guest House for Young Widows” by Azadeh Moaveni, which follows 13 women that join the caliphate, their motivations for doing so, and how their lives are affected by the violence surrounding it.

Believed is a production from Michigan public radio about the team of women who won a conviction against Larry Nasser, a serial sexual predator who abused hundreds of women and girls over two decades, including many globally-acclaimed gymnasts.  This one is told from the perspective of the girls, and needs a massive trigger warning for sexual violence and trauma, but is ultimately a story of the women’s strength, perseverance, and tenacity.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here for more info.

This Land is a podcast about Sharp v. Murphy, which is a case about Native American land rights that is currently sitting before the US Supreme Court.  Hosted by Rebecca Nagle, a citizen of the Cherokee nation, it delves into the history of colonialist land grabs throughout US history, broken treaties, and the very real threat of tribal sovereignty being even further eroded depending on the outcome of this case.  It’s a fascinating look into how history informs the present, and how this case and others will affect tribal people’s relationship with the US government for generations to come.  The podcast is currently on pause, but I believe it will be releasing new episodes when it is being re-argued by the Supreme Court.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here for more info and resources.

The Dream.  Jane Marie hosts this podcast all about multi-level marketing and the polarizing discussion about whether they’re money-making ventures or total scams.  She goes inside companies like Amway, LulaRoe, Arbonne, and the other various accessories or health supplements that at least one of your friends is selling on Facebook.  Given that there seems to be a new MLM popping up along I-15 in Utah every week, this is a fascinating look into the culture surrounding MLMs, religion, women’s issues, and a whole lot more.  The second season, which is ongoing, is specifically looking into the dietary supplements and vitamin industry, and is equally fascinating.  Click here to find episodes on Apple Podcasts, and click here to read an interview with Jane Marie on Slate.

And, as a bonus, here are three podcasts that are hosted by both a man and a woman, but are worth including on this list just because of the relevance and quality of their content:

Mormon Land, co-hosted by Peggy Fletcher Stack and David Noyce, is all about “the contours and complexities of the latest Mormon news” (click here to find it on Apple Podcasts, and here to find the site).

Code Switch by NPR, co-hosted by Gene Demby and Shereen Marisol Meraji, is all about issues of race, culture, and identity (click here to find it on Apple Podcasts, and here for the website).

Ear Hustle, co-hosted by Earlonne Woods and Nigel Poor, is all about the life inside (and outside) of San Quentin prison, told by people who are incarcerated inside and those who have been released (click here to find it on Apple Podcasts, and here for the website).

What other amazing female-led podcasts are you listening to?  Which ones deserve to be in a top ten list?

Authority, Scripture, and Social Location

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Over the last couple of years, I’ve described The Book of Mormon For the Least of These to lots of people. “It’s basically a social justice readers guide to the Book of Mormon,” I say. “It helps readers understand messages of racism, sexism, socioeconomic inequality, and immigration within the Book of Mormon.” By far the most common reaction from non-Mormons is polite confusion. They stare at me, likely wondering where to begin for a follow-up question. Most Mormons are interested but also confused. They don’t know what to do with a project like this. I’m fine with the bafflement–I am, after all, the editor of a Mormon feminist magazine and I tell people exactly that when asked what kind of work I do. I’m used to the puzzled looks. But there is one reaction that actually hurts and it’s happened more than a couple times now:

“What gives you the authority to speak on these issues?”

Authority is deeply written into the Mormon psyche. We look to an external authority for guidance in everything from how many children to what clothes to wear. As a woman, I have rarely felt I had real authority at church, although as a white, married woman with children, I have lots of privilege. The gendered nature of authority affects our community in a multitude of ways, including how we interpret scripture: just last month, I watched a number of “Must Read Lists for Book of Mormon Scripture Study” roll out on Mormon blogs. Few, if any, of those books were written by women. Few, if any, were written by people of color. 

Miguel De La Torre has written brilliantly about what happens when only people with socially-sanctioned authority get to interpret scripture:

“The interpretation of scripture can never occur apart from the identity of the one doing the interpreting. Many of us have been taught to read the Bible through the eyes of those in power, specifically through the eyes of white middle- and upper-class males. When the Bible is read from the social location of those whom society privileges, the risk exists that interpretations designed to protect their power and privilege are subconsciously or consciously constructed. Those who are the authority of society impose their views upon the text and confuse what they declare the Bible to say with what the text actually states. To counter this, autobiographical interpretations from the margins of society challenge the claim by the dominant culture that its interpretation of the text is objective and thus superior to any other reading.”

When someone asks me what authority I have, I could answer in the socially acceptable way: Fatimah and I have three graduate degrees and many years of writing and editing on issues of Mormonism between us. Fatimah is an ordained pastor, for goodness sake. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from this project, it’s that God works to upend our ideas of who has the authority and right to speak of the divine. The younger brother got the birthright. The righteous family had to flee Jerusalem and become refugees. Jesus spoke primarily to people on the margins of his society.

So I answer the question in a different way: we claim the authority we have as women. We claim the authority that comes from working in tiny cracks of time, with seven children between us and no research assistants. We claim the authority of living a lifetime in bodies that, when we speak with confidence, are asked to not be so aggressive or strident. Fatimah speaks from the authority of being a woman of color. We do not apologize for that kind of authority, because scriptural interpretations do not exist independent from the author’s social location. And I deeply believe that what our Church needs is to recognize the authority that comes from the margins. If we don’t, we will continue to miss some of the most important messages our holy texts have to offer. As De La Torre writes, if people from the same social location are always the authority on the meaning of scripture, then we will consistently end up with the same interpretations of scripture. 

“Some scholars would maintain that such readings from the margins, often based on personal experiences, are unscholarly, yet those who are disenfranchized consistently employ such a strategy because it allows their marginalized voices to take center stage. Today it should be recognized that little difference really exists between the private and public voice of the biblical interpreter because all interpretations are either directly or indirectly influenced by one’s identity and social location.” (2)

More than anything else, Fatimah and I hope that The Book of Mormon for the Least of These will empower readers to engage in their own journey of scriptural interpretation, one that works for you and with you. Part of the power of sinking into scripture is that we get to let the text call to us, speak into our lives, and inspire us to be brave in our discipleship. We hope this work emboldens readers to reach for a God that calls all of us to see the oppressed and engage in the work of liberation.

The Book of Mormon for the Least of These is available for purchase at https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1948218232?pf_rd_p=ab873d20-a0ca-439b-ac45-cd78f07a84d8&pf_rd_r=VW7DQCZN6HHN34G00MPK.

Miguel A. De La Torre. Reading the Bible from the Margins. New York: Orbis Books (2002) p.3.Ibid, p. 171.

Learning From Nephi, Even Though He Irritates Me

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Painting by Minerva Teichert

“Condemn me not because of mine imperfection, neither my father, because of his imperfection, neither them who have written before him; but rather give thanks unto God that he hath made manifest unto you our imperfections, that ye may learn to be more wise than we have been.” …Moroni speaking, Mormon 9:31

My dad used the Book of Mormon to teach me how to read.

I was 7, and had learned elementary level reading at school. Dad was working on his PhD. He was also teaching classes at Stanford and Berkeley, as well as teaching institute.

I had 5 siblings. So “Dad” time was rare.

I was looking forward to getting baptized. I expressed interest in the Book of Mormon. Dad said he would help me learn to read it.

He usually got home after my siblings and I were in bed. I would listen for him to come in the front door and start telling Mom about his day. Then I climbed out of bed, went into the kitchen with the paperback copy of the Book of Mormon, the blue one with the Angel Moroni on the cover. We would sit there together, in a quiet house, and read. No matter how long it took me to sound out the words, no matter how many times I would ask what something meant, Dad patiently taught me. No word or idea was dismissed as being too advanced for me.

When I did not like the way Nephi killed Laban, and I asked about why God would tell him to do that, or when I wondered about why God would curse people with a dark skin, Dad would share his own struggles with me. He helped me see that I never needed to believe God would do terrible things like that, even if someone like Nephi claimed it.

This was during the ‘60’s, and the time of many civil rights actions. When I would see coverage of people justifying discrimination in the name of God, sometimes from church leaders, I saw a connection with what I was reading about in this book of scripture.

I remember reading another part where God seemed to patiently keep trying to get people to forgive each other, and to help each other, even after they had done terrible things. I remember having a hard time reading the words, because I was crying. Maybe I wondered if this was a story about how God loves us even when we hurt each other.

When I read about God saying he would make it hard for people to hear or see his message, it started a long discussion with Dad. Why would God not want me to hear or see what he said? I remember Dad asking me to think about how each person might listen for a different message. Each person might have a different idea of what they think God is saying. It is easier to just let someone else tell you what God thinks. It is harder to keep listening and praying and learning for yourself what God might want you to know. He said this book had the stories of many people who were struggling with that. Since we are here to learn and choose, God wouldn’t stop us from wanting others to do our thinking for us, and God couldn’t force us to do the harder work of learning for ourselves. I can’t remember how long it took for that to sink in.

I didn’t realize at the time, or for years after, the difference those discussions made for me. Even when I would hear Nephi revered as a hero and great prophet, I always harbored feelings of irritation towards him. He seemed a bit arrogant, and very prideful. His problems were always someone else’s fault. He even blamed his own parents, and I thought they probably put up with a lot from him.

When I was a teen, it occurred to me that Nephi never mentioned much about his sisters, or his wife or daughters. He didn’t even name them! Moments of feminist fury added to my irritation. And I questioned his justification for murder and racism more and more.

I can’t remember how many times I had read the Psalm of Nephi (2 Nephi, chapter 4) before I really paid attention to it. Even with all of the things about Nephi that irritated me, this spoke of a person who was in a constant wrestle. This is how I felt, more often than I cared to admit.

After reading through the Book of Mormon a several times, I realized I did not need to admire any of the characters, or join in the hero worship I saw on occasion. The conversations about historical proof, or lack of it did not interest me. I can’t clearly point to a moment when I stopped wondering about some inherent truth to the book. But there was always some new insight, or awareness for me. I continued to read it over and over, in different ways and formats. And I learned something new each time.

Since I didn’t concern myself with hero worship, or needing to see Mormon characters as static beings who could do no wrong, and whose words came directly from God – I was able to find value in reading about their stories.

For me, this book is not meant to be an example of a perfect family on an ideal journey. This is a book of warning, telling tragic tales of families who killed each other off. Through it all, there are people who are trying to find their way to God.

Each time I read it, somewhere in there, if I look for it, I hear God’s voice.

“No matter who or where you are, I am with you. No matter how much you hate or love each other, you are mine. Please, take care of each other. You are mine. I am with you. I am you.”

I read Grant Hardy’s “Understanding The Book of Mormon” in 2011. It has informed my reading of all sacred text. It helped me see Nephi (and the other narrators, including Joseph) as a much more complex person. Learning more about him because of what he didn’t write (details of his failures and his parent’s likely disapproval), as much as what he wrote (a one-sided account of a heroic, almost martyr-like life) helped me see him as a human much like anyone.

Now, I read the Psalm of Nephi and I hear a man in his declining years cry out in pain, doubting himself, wondering if he ever got anything right, if he ever could be worthy of God’s love, afraid that in all his effort to prove himself, did he miss hearing the real message. Did he miss seeing the God that was right in front of him, while he frantically tried to cover up his failure to live up to his own idea of perfection? I hear a man hungering for the peace and healing of unconditional love, reflecting on his life where he put so many conditions on the love he offered.

I can relate.

Still, God is there.

Now, I pick this book up, and read…again. The format I choose now is the Reader’s Edition of The Book of Mormon, by Grant Hardy. Published by The Maxwell Institute.

I don’t feel any need to like, or admire, or prove, or agree with anything.

But I can learn. I learn from this epic human story.

Like all human stories, when I have eyes to see and ears to hear, I find God.

Sacred Music Sunday: Come, Ye Children of the Lord

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I’ve always loved the hymn Come, Ye Children of the Lord. It brings to mind the joy that will fill the earth when Jesus returns. No more sorrow, no more sin, no more death.

In the Lord’s Prayer, one of the things Jesus taught us to pray is “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” But rather than waiting for some time in the future when Jesus fixes our messes, I want to get a head start. What can we, as individuals, do to make earth a little more heavenly right now?

Mourning and Celebrating One of Our Own

[image error]Jenny Marshall Latu, 1983-2020
Via Facebook

Recently the Mormon feminist community has been devastated by the loss of one of our own – Jenny Marshall Latu. It has also been a personal loss for me as Jenny was my dear friend. The news of her passing was so shocking for me, especially because she and I were messaging the night before she died, giggling about something we both thought was silly. Jenny was just 36-years-old and left behind a husband and six children, whom she loved and adored with fierce abandon.

Jenny was the kind of friend who quietly, and behind the scenes, offered comfort and support to whomever needed it. She helped those who needed helping, even when she herself was suffering with several of her chronic health problems. I’ve heard countless stories in the days since her passing about her generosity, her compassion, her selflessness, and how she loved people with her whole heart. Jenny also loved books and together we would give each other recommendations and discuss books we loved. She did this with all of her friends who are voracious readers like she was.

Jenny leaves a legacy of courage, as she faced many health conditions. A legacy of the enormity of love she had for her children. And a legacy of kindness she showed not only to her wide network of friends, but anyone who was in need of kindness and a friendly smile. Our Mormon feminist community will not be the same without her tireless activism for those on the margins. My world will never be the same. “Because I knew you, I have been changed for good.” –Wicked

Here are a few memories or thoughts about Jenny from a few of her friends:

” My very favorite thing about Jenny was her ability to handle the hard stuff with humor. She was always there with a supportive word, and a fantastic meme, exactly when I needed a digital hug. Jenny took time to care for the people she loved. She was a fierce advocate for her friends, both online and in real life. I will always be grateful for the light she shared in the dark corners of my own pain, and the times she let me share light and space with her when she was facing pain too. ” –Aubri Martin-Parmenter

“I feel like the space Jenny has left in the Mormon feminist community, will always be a void and will never be filled. Jenny was so incredibly loving , and generous with her time and resources without question. Jenny was really funny and intelligent. Jenny made me smile and laugh. Jenny was strong and resilient. Jenny loved every single one of her kids SO MUCH. She talked about her kids all the time and how much she loved them. Jenny’s kids were her world. I really believe Jenny is watching down on her children. Jenny made this world an infinitely better place, and it feels very cruel and dark without her today.” –Adrienne Aldridge

“Jenny was just always there for me, and everyone else. Always checking in, always offering her heart, her kind words, understanding, advice, and so much love. The world seems tangibly darker without her here. My first memory of Jenny was meeting her at a MoFem get together at a park. She had [her baby]** in a sling on her hip and she was glowing. She loved being around her people and she loved being a mother. I remember once she found a really cool Star Wars shirt with Rey on it at Target and she made sure to pick one up for me as well. We bonded over our similar chronic illnesses, and she was always checking up on me. I also have POTS and fibromyalgia and she was so kind and patient in answering about a billion questions I asked her about EDS. She will be missed by me and so many others. She was so important to so many people and her impact will not be forgotten.” — Jelli Black

“I can’t believe Jenny is gone…she advocated for the people in her sphere in the way she and they needed. First advocating for a blessing for her baby from women she loved and trusted. She was brave and vulnerable suffering from postpartum depression and asking and receiving help from that same group of women. Letting us into her home to clean and deliver dinner for her family. She would check on me if my social media communications seemed to be too dark and discouraged, because of chronic illness, asking if there was anything she could do to help or just to commiserate. She helped start a group support for [Mormon feminists] navigating chronic health and disabilities and framed it like we all had super powers instead just having mortal coils that were frustrating. My breath catches when I remember she’s gone and have to fight back crying. She was the best and most kind of beings.” –Dovie Peterson

“Jenny and I had several Facebook messages, but I couldn’t remember what exactly they were all about, so I went back through them. I had totally forgotten she had helped me find a new dentist that worked with anxiety. They didn’t end up taking my insurance, but she really went out of her way to help me. I loved her. She was good people.” –Miriam Birch

“In some ways it feels like I have known Jenny forever, although our friendship was in the virtual world. From the beginning I was struck by Jenny’s thoughtful and kind responses to the questions people asked. Jenny was open, sweet and loving. She loved her family fiercely and proudly. I was impressed by her determination and commitment to do what was right for her. The world is a less bright without her in it. But the sky has gained a new star to watch over those that Jenny loved. I will miss her. ” -Anonymous

“Jenny shaped my mind for learning, and it changed my life trajectory exponentially. She showed me how to dig deep, to really think and feel. I will forever hold gratitude in my heart to her for that. Jenny was real, she let me see into her thoughts, joy, pain, trauma, mental illness, physical illness, deep love, acceptance. She destigmatized postpartum depression, introducing me to a support group of women that I will forever hold dear in my heart. We cried together, laughed together, healed together. I will miss you Jenny. ” –Heather Kester

[image error]Permission of Heather Kester

“I never met Jenny or even communicated directly with her online, but I recognized her name from the many online groups where I read her comments or other forms of writing. I always looked forward to reading Jenny’s words because of her thoughtful insights, clarity, kindness, and boldness. Jenny stood up for the marginalized, was willing to learn and take feedback, and modeled continual growth. I appreciate and will miss the significant emotional labor that went into her online presence, and I can only imagine the hole left for those who knew her more closely than I did. Her impact has truly been felt across the world.” –Anonymous

“I was online friends with Jenny for years. Then I moved to Utah and was able to meet her in person. I got to come to her home for a play date. I brought a fast food lunch and a frosted coffee. The kids played Hello Neighbor, then we sat outside for a few hours chatting about the complexities of life. We also met at a reservoir beach that summer, and I was so impressed with how respectful and mature her older kids were. I’m so glad to have known Jenny, and to be included among the lives that she touched.” –Mallory Thalman

“I have many memories of Jenny but most specifically when I think of her, I think of her big heart and her compassion. She was such a great friend. She was always quick to check in and to have my back. She lived what she believed and was always looking out for her friends. She always had my back and would speak up on behalf of marginalized people. She was so kind and had a great sense of humor. I really cherished our interactions and the times she reached out to me personally. I am saddened and shocked by this loss. ” –Christine M.

“Jenny was kind, thoughtful, inclusive, and generous. She was a sounding board and source of comfort for me as I went through difficult life changes. She went out of her way to help and to bring fun to others, including me. I admired her knowledge, her diligence, and her strength. She is dearly missed. ” –Aly Brown

“I first met Jenny in Feminist Mormon Housewives. She was so helpful and friendly as I navigated my feelings on things going on in the church. She was quick to answer my questions, and make a joke or a book recommendation. We were in a few private groups together as well, and her sense of humor put me over the edge. When I had my son, she was constantly checking on me, commenting on every picture, asking how I was doing, not just how he was doing, but how I was feeling mentally and physically. No one else asked those questions. She invited me to join “MoFem’s with special powers”, a [Facebook] group for MoFem’s with different disability and diseases. Her recommendations proved invaluable, and her love for everyone overflowed. We would often joke about how she was a slytheren, yet so nice. Even though we never met in person, I felt connected to her. Because Jenny could make everyone feel special. She could make everyone feel like they were the center of the universe. When my youngest daughter was born and was in the NICU, Jenny was one of my loudest cheerleaders. She was, quite simply, the best. Her ability to love was bigger than her heart, and she loved her babies with the fire of a thousand suns. I will miss her warmth and friendship. I will miss how she made me laugh, how she made me think, and question what I thought I knew. I will miss her.” -Teresa Peschke

“Jenny was my friend through various Mormon feminist groups and Ehlers-Danlos groups. She always made me feel special, even though we never met in real life. She reached out to me personally on several occasions, and just made me feel heard and seen. She seemed to have a gift for reaching people individually and making them feel loved. She was confident and knowledgeable, but never talked down to people—always drew people in. She will be (and already is) missed, even by me, who never was blessed to meet her in person. I’m grateful I had the opportunity to interact with her during her way-too-brief life.” -Margret Tonks

“The first time I met Jenny (in person) I felt an instant connection to her. She was just one of those people who make you feel like you’ve been life-long friends. We moderated a Facebook group together and I respected how much she was committed to making it a safe space for those from marginalized groups. Through our conversations we got to be even closer and better friends. She made me laugh and she was so, so smart. We kept trying to get together recently, but it was hard since we lived about 70 miles apart. I kept putting it off thinking I would finish grad school in a couple semesters and then have a social life. I regret that now, but no one ever expects their friend to die unexpectedly. Jenny was effervescent and unapologetically herself. She makes me want to be a kinder, more patient person. She was a devoted mother and everyone who knew her knew her children were her life. I know Jenny lived with considerable physical pain and limitations, and I hope she is free of that pain now (even though we’d all rather have her here). And I hope wherever she is on the rainbow bridge, she is holding the hand of her son she lost and they are dancing and singing into eternity. I love you, Jenny. Always.” –Marisa McPeck-Stringham

**To protect her family’s privacy, some personal details have been omitted.