Exponent II's Blog, page 241

Something’s Missing in General Conference: Where Are the Women?

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One year ago, it was announced that the Priesthood Session and Women’s Session of General Conference would only be held once a year and each on the Saturday evening of Conference weekend. The October 2018 General Conference marked the first time the Women’s Session took the place of the Priesthood Session on General Conference weekend.

Traditionally, at least for the past 20 years or so, two female auxiliary presidency members speak during the general sessions of Conference: one on Saturday and one on Sunday. (There have been exceptions to this, like when only one woman spoke in April 2017 and three women spoke in April 2018.) Nearly always, though, during the Women’s Session (or Women’s Meeting, as it was called before it was considered a session of General Conference), three women took up the majority of the time, followed by one talk by a member of the First Presidency.

During yesterday’s Women’s Session, there were the traditional three female speakers: President Joy Jones, Sister Michelle Craig and Sister Cristina Franco. They were followed by the entire First Presidency: three male speakers. The women in the Women’s Session spoke for a total of 33 minutes and 47 seconds; the men spoke for 43 minutes and 34 seconds. In the session named and set apart for women, men spoke for 56% of the time.

The women’s talks were, on average, 11 minutes and 16 seconds long; the men’s were 14 minutes and 31 seconds in length. Each woman spoke for just 77% of the length of time that each man did.

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Not only was the Women’s Session dominated by male voices, but there were no female speakers at all in the general sessions on Saturday. In a day that should have had a record-breaking four female speakers in one day of Conference, there were only three, and those three spoke to an exclusively female audience.

Out of the 33 talks that were given across all sessions of Conference, four were given by women. That’s 12.1%.

Out of the 27 talks that were given in the general sessions of Conference with a coed audience, only one was given by a woman.

One.

That’s 3.7%.

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In April 2017, the last time there was only one talk by a woman in the general sessions, Ashmae at By Common Consent wrote a beautiful essay mourning the lack of female voices and explaining why we need to hear more of them: 

It was a good conference.

Still, I couldn’t help but notice that only one talk out of twenty-seven in the course of eight hours this weekend was given by a woman.

Of course there are arguments to be made, reasons, justifications, but as a 33-year old woman fighting hard to use my voice and find examples to pattern my voice after, particularly within the church, I don’t much care about any of the explanations that might be given. The fact is that this vast oversight is hurtful. But beyond hurtful, which I can work through on my own, it is disempowering. It sends a message, intentional or not, to not only me, but my children who sat in their forts and did their best to watch with us, that women do not have a place, except in the darkened seats of the audience where they can listen.

If women’s voices matter, as the male leaders of our church frequently reassure us they do, then we need to hear from more women. No one has ever assured men in General Conference that men’s voices matter because it’s obvious that men’s voices are important. No one has ever wondered if men, as a group, are valued or heard in the Church.

Don’t tell us that women’s voices are important.

Show us.

#MormonMeToo: Why Didn’t She . . . ?

[image error]By B Alvaraz

I have been sexually assaulted twice in my life. Both times by Mormon men. Both times on BYU’s campus. Unless you’ve gone through an event like this, it’s difficult to understand the mosaic of emotions that you encounter. “Well, I wasn’t *raped.*” “Am I just overreacting?” “It’s my fault for not getting him off me faster” “My friends will treat me differently” “Was it my fault?” “No one will believe me. . . .”

The first assault happened during work on BYU grounds. My coworker was someone who made me feel uncomfortable and nervous. He reached out while we were in the work truck with 3 other male coworkers present, looked me in the eye, and groped me. I was so stunned I barely reacted. I was surrounded by people! Maybe I’d misunderstood? Maybe it wasn’t so bad? The more I thought about it, I realized it was definitely intentional. His hands, his disgusting hands touched me, kneading in an invasion, a perversion of an intimate act.

I went to my boss, a female supervisor. I told her what had happened. “Oh it was probably an accident. I’ll talk to him.” I begged her not to; I was embarrassed and scared. He scared me. I didn’t know what he would do if he knew I’d gone to her. She talked to him anyway and told me that he’d said it was an accident, that he couldn’t avoid “brushing” my chest.

He was fired one week later for making a swastika in the snow in front of the Wilk.

The second assault occurred in the HFAC. I had a crush on a boy I’d met on a camping trip who was friends with my roommate’s coworkers. He was performing in a musical piece. I went with my roommate and her coworkers to the concert. Halfway through, I had to use the bathroom and went up to a different floor. One of my roommate’s coworkers was waiting outside of the bathroom. I joked about something and then he grabbed me in a weird hug, swung me into the wall, and started thrusting his hips into mine from behind while holding me down. I got him off me and yelled, “What the hell?!” He shook his head and said, “What are you upset about? I’m the one who has to go and talk to my bishop!”

I was so confused, embarrassed . . . guilty . . . and thought, “What the hell is wrong with me?” This was only 4 MONTHS after the last incident. I got through the rest of the night with tight smiles, trying not to act weird, but careful to put distance between him and me. On the drive home I told my roommate what happened. She invited him over to dinner that weekend. I told her that he made me feel uncomfortable. She invited him over to watch general conference the next week. He walked in the room and sat on top of me. He said I needed to lighten up.

Two years later when I told my mom, she cried. She too had been assaulted by a friend of her sister. He raped her in her living room.

A year into my marriage, I told my husband.

Seven years after the assaults, I wrote about it, without specifics, in a blog post. I shared it on Facebook, pleading with anyone who read it not to vote for someone who casually references sexual assault. Too many did anyway.

Believe women. Believe Mormon women. Believe women of color.

B Alvaraz is a lover of nature, otters, enchiladas, chocolate, science, and compassion. She has one master’s degree, one husband, and one baby.

#hearLDSwomen: Speaking Last in Sacrament Meeting

[image error]By Joni

At the end of 2016, when we were wrapping up our tithing settlement, our bishop asked if we had any concerns or questions. My husband responded with, “Why can’t a woman be the last speaker in sacrament meeting?” I like to think that my husband asked that question because he believes that women are as capable as men in being able to deliver the closing address during our worship services. Or perhaps he was concerned about the message it sends our daughters that a man must always have the last word.

But in truth, it’s probably because he was tired of hearing me complain.

I don’t remember how the bishop responded—probably something to the effect of “there is no reason.” He may have even pointed out that there have been times in our ward when a woman was permitted to speak last (which is true: the last time I gave a sacrament talk, almost five years ago, I went last and somehow the Church kept right on being true). Maybe to satisfy my own curiosity, I decided to start keeping track of the gender of the final speaker for the Sundays in 2017. Excluding fast Sundays and stake and general conferences, there were 37 Sundays when the lineup of speakers was decided ahead of time by the bishopric. Of those 37 Sundays, there were four occasions in which a woman was scheduled to speak last. That works out to be a little over 10% of the time. (I have been keeping statistics for 2018, and so far it’s pretty much the same.)

However, saying that a woman was scheduled to speak last doesn’t tell the whole story. On 2 of those 4 occasions, after a woman gave the final talk, a (male) priesthood holder—either a member of the bishopric or the stake high council—took to the pulpit and delivered unscheduled, extemporaneous remarks. After all, we do have a rank structure where the priesthood (i.e., men) have the right to claim the last word in virtually all of our mixed gender meetings. So if a woman believes she is going to speak last in sacrament meeting, there is only a 50% chance that she actually will. (Of course, spontaneous remarks by the presiding authority, who is always male, sometimes happens when the last scheduled speaker is male. But it doesn’t happen anywhere near 50% of the time.)

Additionally, the four women who were, at least on paper, the final speakers in sacrament meeting were not just ordinary female ward members like me. Two were returning/departing missionaries, one was the wife of a former bishop, and one was the wife of a current bishopric member. This sends a clear message that only certain women are considered worthy of having the last word in sacrament meeting—and even then only 50% of the time.

When women are placed between the youth speaker and the male speaker 90% of the time, that implies that while women may be more knowledgeable/spiritual/better public speakers than teenagers, they are not quite on the same level as the men. They are also not listened to for as many minutes as men, since the last talk is generally the longest. My husband argues that the reason for this is that the last speaker often has to lengthen/shorten/otherwise edit their talk on the fly, and this is difficult, so not letting women go last is actually chivalrously protecting them from this onerous task. (This feels awfully similar to the idea—discredited by the Church itself—that never speaking to or about Heavenly Mother is for Her own protection.) Apologists will sometimes tell you that women are more righteous than men, which is why we don’t hold the priesthood. You do have to wonder if the quality of our worship services would improve if the “more righteous” gender were given more minutes at the pulpit and more opportunities to have the final say.

I feel the same way about women speaking last in sacrament meeting as I feel about women praying in mixed-gender sessions of general conference. (The latter was allowed for a short period of time, but sadly hasn’t happened in over a year.) It’s almost worse to see these things happening occasionally than it would be to see them happen never. If women never spoke last in sacrament meeting or prayed in conference, you could tell yourself that there must be a good reason for it. You could probably convince yourself that it’s actually God who wants men to always have the last word. After all, if He wanted things to be different, He would have said something to the prophet, right? But seeing women deliver the final sacrament talk rarely rather than never tells me that it’s not forbidden by God, it’s just that the people who are making the decisions (who are always male) don’t notice or don’t care.

Pro-tip: When planning meetings for the congregation, schedule equal numbers of women and men to pray and to speak last.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

Book Review: Why Isn’t God Answering Me?

[image error]I will be the first to admit that I do not read “churchy” books.  However, an opportunity came up to review Why Isn’t God Answering Me?By Gerald Lund for the blog and I decided to take it.  What drew me in was my own thought of “why don’t we know more about Heavenly Mother?” This book will not answer that question, and it doesn’t claim to.  However, it is a useful manual for finding peace with our (lack of) answers to prayer.

The preface to this book emphasizes that “this book does not need to be read from start to finish” (x). I did read it that way for the sake of this review, but I would not suggest that method to anyone else. Each chapter addresses possible reasons why we may be struggling to receive or understand personal revelation.  The preface asserts that “this book will largely ignore the more obvious reasons why God isn’t answering prayers” (viii) but I found that the first several chapters were still very much what I might hear if I asked this question in a run of the mill Sunday School class.  This does not mean these chapters are worthless or without value.  Someone who has not long wrestled with this question, or who for a variety of reasons may not have attended adult Sunday School recently may find that these chapters provide exactly what they’re looking for.

I found that the second half of the book held interesting insights.  Chapter 8 deals with the problem of “our wants are too high” – that is, we want something so badly it makes it harder to hear the Spirit clearly. Lund points out that one issue may be that “we believe that having strong feelings proves that these feelings come from God” (75).  I had my own experience with this many years ago when I had decided to serve a mission after receiving my Patriarchal Blessing, praying, fasting and studying the scriptures.  My boyfriend objected that he knew we were supposed to get married.  This was confusing to me, but looking at Lund’s discussion provided some clarity on that issue.  It also made me question how we tend to intertwine our political beliefs with our religious convictions.  We know that sometimes strong feelings come from God, and most of us have strong feelings about political and social issues, and so it is easy to be convinced that God must be confirming our views.

In some places I found myself wondering whether the book would sound different if it had been written by a woman, or if there might be added insight.  In Chapter 9 he discusses how irreverence in Sacrament Meeting can make it difficult to receive revelation.  He acknowledges that the reaction to that might be “ ‘Really? Bring noisy in sacrament meeting could be directly contributing to our inability to deal with life’s challenges?’ Remember those three words President Packer used in the opening quote to this chapter: ‘Reverence invites revelation.’” (84) I don’t disagree with any of that, and I think it is probably wise counsel.  We recently had a post on this blog discussing how the author wishes she’d be left in peace to ponder more rather than chatting in the chapel. However, I have two small children (3 and 1) and Sacrament Meeting is a circus.  I found myself wondering “what am I supposed to do about noisy irreverent Sabbaths? Is that why I don’t hear revelation? Am I ruining this for other people?”  Surely God would have some kind of override mechanism for this situation?

To me the most powerful chapter of the book came toward the end.  I think the book really picks up steam as it goes along and the author approaches more thorny problems.  Perhaps this makes sense, as a casual reader might have their simple issue solved by reading the first few chapters, while it may take more work for a serious struggle to be resolved.  Lund reviews the parable in Luke 18:2-5 wherein a judge decides to help a widow because she continually begs him.  This raises the question, why does God sometimes make us ask and ask and ask for something before we receive it? And what if that is the wrong thing to do, like when Joseph kept asking about loaning out the manuscript and finally God threw up His hands and said “do what you want.”

Lund provides an insightful explanation: “No matter how difficult our challenges or trials, the Lord fully expects us to continue in prayer, even if there seems to be no answer forthcoming.  Why? Because we are not trying to change God’s heart; God is trying to change our hearts . . . He may be saying to us, “This is an opportunity for you to grow in faith, in trust, in spirituality, and in experience.  Because I love you, I will not take away such opportunities from you.” The very act of asking, and not getting a response, and continuing to ask, may be what God wants for us. Perhaps, in a sense, this was an answer to my original question of “why don’t we know more about Heavenly Mother?” In searching, and studying and desiring to know Her, our hearts are changing.

 

#hearLDSwomen: Let’s Listen to Women at General Conference

[image error]The so-called “Primary Voice” used by women, particularly in General Conference, is often used as a reason for tuning out or actively ignoring the voices of women. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard both women and men state that they couldn’t bear to listen to this speaking style. I used to time conference breaks so that I would GET UP AND WALK OUT OF THE ROOM WHEN A WOMAN SPOKE. I can’t believe what an idiot I am. Here I wanted more from women, and when I had it, I’d deliberately prevent myself from hearing it. I don’t care how annoying a voice is — if that’s not a cultural silencing of women, I don’t know what is.

– Deborah

One of my zone leaders on my mission told me that his dad (a stake president) told him that when female speakers start speaking in General Conference, he goes and gets a snack because women don’t say anything he doesn’t already know. The zone leaders laughed together and agreed—right in front of us.

– Chloe M.

I look forward to every General Conference only to see less than a handful of women’s voices represented.

– Anonymous

 

Pro tip: Precisely because we have so few opportunities, we should be attentive to every woman that speaks at General Conference. Belittling the voices of female General Authorities (literally or symbolically) tells women we don’t value their experiences and knowledge.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

Challenging the Internalized Sexism of “Primary Voice”

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This weekend’s General Conference is rumored to be “historic.”

One thing will be quite historic: it is the first time that the General Women’s session replaces the Priesthood session on Saturday night of conference weekend.  If we still get 1-2 women speakers in the other general sessions, minus the additional men that would usually speak at the Priesthood session, this conference may be the most equitable and record-breaking ratio of men to women speakers we’ve ever had over a conference weekend.

With the likelihood to hear from more women than usual, how do you plan to receive their words? With eagerness and gratitude? By using their 10 minutes of talk time to get a snack and use the bathroom? Half-listen while checking messages?

Have you ever tuned out a female speaker at General Conference due to the timbre, pitch, delivery style, tone, cadence, or emotionality of her voice, regardless of the content of her message? Have you ever criticized a woman’s speaking style by calling it “Primary Voice?”

“Primary Voice” is a uniquely Mormon insult to a woman’s voice type, timbre, tone quality, cadence or delivery pattern meant as a critique that she is addressing an audience of adults as though she were teaching a primary class full of children.  Though the insult is sometimes directed at male speakers, it’s almost always hurled at female speakers in general conference or other church meetings.  This type of sexist insult stems from the same place as other female speakers who are criticized as being “too shrill, too harsh, too monotone” too, too, too, too….

Discriminatory preferences and biases for the voice types and styles of female public speakers, and discounting their message as a result, is a symptom of internalized sexism. Women and men who seek to amplify and support the voices of women in leadership must stop using “Primary Voice” as an insult to our female general auxiliary leaders.

Delivery style, cadence pattern and level of emotionality in a public speech, such as an address in General Conference, could be changed or adapted with instruction from a vocal coach, whereas timbre quality or the pitch range of a woman’s speaking voice register is not something that can be adjusted without doing damage to her vocal folds.

Here is a diagram of the average pitch ranges according to vocal type:

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A quick sampling (not scientific) of a few female general authorities suggests the following women fitting into vocal categories with naturally occurring spoken pitch at the bottom of their vocal ranges:

Sister Jean Bingham, current RS General President: Soprano/Mezzo Soprano, spoken range B3-E4

Jean Stevens, first woman to pray in General Conference: Soprano, spoken range C4-E4

Elaine Dalton, former YW General President: Soprano/Mezzo Soprano, spoken range C4-D4

Cheiko Okasaki, former RS General Presidency: Soprano/Mezzo Soprano, spoken range C4-D4

Ann Dibb, former YW general presidency: Soprano/Mezzo Soprano, spoken range B3-E4

Mary Ellen Smoot, former RS General President: Mezzo-Soprano, spoken range A3-Bb3

Sharon Eubank, Current RS Presidency: Alto, spoken range G3-A3

Bonnie Oscarson, former YW General President: Alto, spoken range F3-A3

Julie Beck, former RS General President: Alto, spoken range E3-F3

 

The average woman’s voice is a second soprano, not an alto.

Expecting a woman with a naturally Soprano voice type to speak in the register of a Alto is not only unrealistic, but ultimately harmful to her voice overall.  Preference for lower pitched voices may be an aesthetic inclination, or it may be indicative of lingering sexist patterns about what features make a voice authoritative or respectable.  A woman should not have to modulate the naturally phonating pitch of her voice in order to be seen as knowledgeable or wise. Some women are born with naturally high voices, others with naturally lower pitched voices. We should not require a woman to change her voice in order to be heard as more credible.

From this article on sexism in public speaking: “Our culture has for so long presented us with leaders as men—with masculine qualities like dominance, lower vocal registers, and size—and we have internalized these leadership theories. We associate certain behaviors, personality characteristics, and physical traits with leaders that are stereotypically male. The qualities we expect of women—being caring, nurturing, accommodating—are at odds with those we associate with leadership. We expect women to be congruent with their gender, and when they are not, we respond negatively.”

As seen with using “Primary Voice” as an insult, could it be that our associations of women as nurturers is affecting how we discredit them in the public sphere as theologians and leaders?

For male and female speakers alike, expressing preferences for delivery style, timing, cadence patterns and content should be critiqued as such, without casting unfair dispersions on a vocal type, pitch or timbre quality.  In critiquing the delivery style of men versus women, we should keep in mind that none of our general leaders are trained rhetoricians, and that the male speakers typically have decades more experience speaking in general conference than the female speakers.

If our female speakers had as many opportunities to speak in general conference year after year as the men do, and their abilities to address a global church in front of a massive live audience improved each year, would we still be tuning them out because of “Primary Voice?”

Supporting women in leadership means listening to their voices and hearing their ideas with credibility and respect. It means programming their speeches in your lessons, quoting from them in your own talks.

This weekend as you listen to a more-than-ever-before number of female speakers, challenge yourself to put aside sexist tendencies to prefer certain vocal types, styles or ranges, and listen to the content of their messages, the clarity of their ideas, and the insights into the wisdom of their character.  And please, strike the sexist insult “Primary Voice” from your vocabulary altogether.

#hearLDSwomen: I Know the Truth

[image error]by RRS

I had prayed the night before and I knew what I needed to do. The Holy Ghost confirms, but does not always provide courage. I called his bishop’s secretary and scheduled a time to meet, to discuss my dad and what he has done to my mom. To me. To my brothers. The years of sexual, emotional, and physical abuse had numbed me against compassion for abusers. No one had come to save us, but as an adult, I felt empowered and able to save my mom, and the ward that he was being called to serve as bishop.

I prayed again and asked, “What do I have to offer here but anger and hate for the priesthood holder that dominated my youth with calling me a “slut,” “bitch,” “worthless,” throwing my brother’s down the stairs, putting a gun to his head if we didn’t behave.”

My mom attempted to leave him once, after all 5 kids had grown, and his recourse was to tell his family, his bishop, and all their friends that she was having an affair. My quiet, sweet, scared mom that moved in with me for a couple of months fearing for her life. She would hide food under her mattress out of habit. She shared stories of abuse that I wasn’t aware of. I knew what had happened to me, in front of me, or in ear shot, but I had never known the level of depravity. Her temple marriage though was more important than the abuse she had and would continue to endure. She moved back in with him two months later.

I didn’t want to go in to this meeting with hate. I wanted to help, to prevent damage, to save. I pulled up in the church parking lot and prayed again. “You know the truth” came and warmed my mind. I did. I had the truth, and without the desire to destroy, but simply to prevent, I walked in to the church. To my surprise, my oldest brother was also there waiting to see the bishop. He had been compelled the night before to drive from California to meet with this bishop.

Walking into the bishop’s office, vibrations of love and calm streamed through my body. I knew I was doing the right thing. My brother held my hand and we shared the vibrations that empowered us to speak of the abuse. Our story told, the only thing the bishop said was “Your dad told me you might say something like that.” We were dismissed. My dad was made bishop of his ward. He served 5 years.

RRS is a PhD Student at the University of Utah, a Research Assistant at the Huntsman Cancer Research Institute, and an Adjunct Professor at Weber State University.

 

Pro-tip: If anyone approaches you with allegations of abuse by a member of your ward, believe them.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

#hearLDSwomen: Objectified as a Female Gospel Doctrine Teacher

[image error]By Lisa D.

Our second week in our new ward, the bishop asked to speak to my husband and me. We chatted in his office until he came to the point: What callings had we previously held? Which callings had we most enjoyed? I said that I loved teaching Relief Society and gospel doctrine. The bishop then asked us each if we would accept new callings, me as a gospel doctrine teacher and my husband as a primary teacher. I was thrilled; my husband was willing. We accepted.

The following week in sacrament meeting, our names were called from the pulpit and my husband and I stood to be sustained in our new callings. As I sat down again, I noticed two senior missionary couples sitting next to each other a couple of rows in front of me. With a knowing look, the sisters leaned in to each other as one whispered to the other, loud enough for me to hear, “They have those callings mixed up.”

My eyes widened and I turned to my husband, “Did you hear what that woman said?” I mouthed. I leaned over and told him what I heard transpire. How dare those ladies presume that my place was in the primary room and my husband’s was with the adults!

Although I tried not to let this moment affect me or my teaching, I’m sure it did. Eventually, however, both senior couples’ missions ended and they moved away. I felt like by this time I had a good feel for the class dynamic, and how far they were willing to let me stretch and question the lesson content and teach in a more nuanced way. Most of the time I felt like class members were happy to explore the scriptures with me. But there were occasions when I got challenged in ways that I know a man in this calling would not.

For example, I was asked where I found an idea for a certain aspect of a lesson and, upon saying it was my own idea, saw surprise on the man’s face who questioned me. My husband was later asked by this same man to verify whether I had indeed thought of the idea myself.

After another class, two older men approached me, nominally to make comments about the lesson. When I disagreed with them, using personal experience to make my point, they were taken aback. The two men spoke with each other for a moment and then one of them turned to me and said, “You are very bright for a woman.” I know he meant this as a compliment, but I was so baffled that I was momentarily tongue-tied. Bright for a woman? Despite being flustered, I said “thank you” and quickly left the conversation.

I have been approached after class on more than one occasion by men wanting to say how much they enjoyed my lesson and in the same breath saying how good I looked. Comments on my clothes or hair get casually inserted next to their appreciation for my scriptural knowledge. I may receive as many comments about how I look as I do about how I teach. Do women approach men after a lesson to say how good their tie looks or how well they’ve done their hair that day? I never have.

In the year and a half that I’ve had this calling, I have experienced similarly sexist interactions on a semi-regular basis. But I’ve also taught gospel doctrine in two other wards before this one and I haven’t had half as many negative interactions. So is my ward especially sexist? Do men feel particularly free to make sexist comments here? Are other women in my ward getting gawked at and questioned the way I do? I can’t be the only one, can I? Can I?

I don’t know.

 

Pro-tip: Avoid using gender prescriptions when considering women’s suitability for callings. When giving women feedback, comment on the content of their ideas and work, not on their appearance or any part of their body—even if you think your comments are positive.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

The Creative Process– Call for Subscriptions for Fall 2018

[image error]The following is the Letter from the Editor for the Fall 2018 issue of Exponent II. Because this issue is devoted to the theme of Mormon women and the creative process, we decided to have our super-creative Layout Editor, Rose Gochnour Serago, write this issue’s letter. Rosie is the person who makes every issue of Exponent II look stunning.

You can subscribe to Exponent II at our shop. Subscribing is the best way you can support the Exponent community. If you already have a subscription, please consider buying someone you love a gift subscription. We depend on our subscribers for the financial viability of the entire organization. To receive the Fall issue, subscribe by October 10, 2018.

The cover art is “In the Beginning” by Lisa DeLong. You can see more of her work here. 

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We’ve all had times in life when we’ve given someone a gift that wasn’t wrapped. I don’t mean a gift that couldn’t be wrapped; I mean a gift that, with a little more planning and effort, with just a smidgen more time in your day, could have been wrapped.

An unwrapped gift is still meaningful. The wrapping is superfluous in many ways. But after gifting many an unwrapped gift, I’ve learned again and again that wrapped gifts are better.

When I feel best about a gift I’ve wrapped, the process usually goes something like this. I search through my miscellaneous drawers for a simple, natural fiber paper. The wrapping paper is a reflection of me. It’s not Hallmark and it’s not glittery. It’s likely tan butcher’s paper. I dig through more miscellaneous drawers for something that would make a nice tie. I like string or twine, not ribbon. Maybe the earthy cord that bound my farmer’s market carrots. My bows are floppy, not crisp. To top it off, I find a thick marker and I write a note, directly on the paper. I choose my words with care.

When I’m done, the result is not gorgeous. It’s not award winning. Sometimes the paper is newspaper. (But if it is, I probably picked from a good section, carefully avoiding the stock report.) If it’s the semi-annual gift for my domestic goddess, lime green-loving mother-in-law, she’s not going to give the wrapping job any awards.

But to me, it signals that I finished the job. It says I care about this gift — paired with the powerful act of giving — enough to see it through to the end. To tie it up with a simple bow.

This is the philosophy that I carry with me as I digitally pull together the pieces that make up every issue of Exponent II.

I’m the layout editor. What does that mean?

Women send Exponent II their words. Their stories. Their pain. Their joy. Their questions. And I lay out their paragraphs. Column by column, spread by spread. I type the titles and author names, letter by letter.

For the bulk of the body text, I copy and paste, but I carefully look for orphan lines and consider the nuances of breathing room and white space.

Did you know the font size of the body text of every Exponent II article is 9.75? Not 9 or 10. 9.75. A terribly odd font size. But it’s the font size I’ve found gives just enough readability to still be economical with space.

And between each column is a .25” gap. Someone makes that decision, and it’s me. It could be bigger, it could be smaller.

If these decisions sound fussy and somewhat frivolous, that’s fair. They mostly are. But added up, they weave intention through the magazine. All the little details are intentional. That’s what makes a good wrapping job.

And the art. Oh, the art! I am constantly fighting, re-thinking that 9.75 font size. Could we make the words fit a little bit tighter so this beautiful painting could be just a little bit bigger? When laying out 10,000 words, three poems and 15 pieces of art in 40 pages, it’s a game of quarter inches. And I fight for every quarter inch to give each component — and by extension each artist, author and poet — as much space as they deserve.

Because that is my gift to this community.

These women write their words. The artists share their beauty. The proofreaders, copy editors and editors strive for thoroughness and accuracy. And when it comes time to hand it off to our eager readers, I have a chance to wrap the gift.

It would be a lovely gift without any wrapping.

But my layout and design work is my way of saying to all the women reading and contributing to Exponent II: your sentiments, whether written or illustrated, deserve to be wrapped.

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Once again:  You can subscribe to Exponent II at our shop. Subscribing is the best way you can support the Exponent community. If you already have a subscription, please consider buying someone you love a gift subscription. We depend on our subscribers for the financial viability of the entire organization. To receive the Fall issue, subscribe by October 10, 2018.

Conference Bingo: Historic 2018 Edition

Folks, the rumor mill is in full gear. Apparently this GenConf* will be HISTORIC. Writ large. Something to tell the grandkids about.

BIG ENOUGH THAT IT NEEDS ITS OWN (click for a printable version) BINGO CARD.

You know the rules: M&Ms only, no Skittles (watching Conference requires full-octane chocolate, not that fruity super-sweet substitute), first one to get five in a row wins. That center spot is as free as a tuna noodle casserole the week after you give birth.

May the odds be ever in your favor.

 

* “GenCon” is already taken, so we’re going to have to make do.