Exponent II's Blog, page 260

Peace Be With You

“Salute one another with an holy salutation. The churches of Christ salute you.” ~ Romans 16:16, JST

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I’ve visited a lot of different churches in my time. I did my undergraduate and graduate education at a Catholic university, so I’ve been to mass on several occasions. I was a home health care aide for a woman whose father is a Disciples of Christ pastor, and when I had to occasionally fill in for a Sunday shift, church was on the agenda. I’ve also visited Methodist, Baptist, and Episcopalian services from time to time for various reasons, mostly because I’m a classically trained soprano, and sometimes churches need to borrow an extra musician for a day. One of my favorite parts of services at other churches is the passing of the peace. It varies slightly from church to church, but basically, it’s a portion in the service where people greet those sitting around them. It’s usually somewhat ritualized, in that one person says “Peace be with you.” and the other person responds in a set way. [1] [2] I’ve often wished that we did something like this in LDS services.

One thing that I love about visiting other churches is that it’s totally silent before the service starts. I can sit down in a pew and be quietly alone with my thoughts. Nobody bothers me. Contrast this with attending LDS services, where if I sit down in a pew and try to think, within 30 seconds, someone will come up and interrupt my meditation with some sort of banal conversation. Once that person moves on, I get my thinking back on, and inevitably someone else will come interrupt me. I find it profoundly annoying.

A few weeks ago, I had a realization. This is our passing of the peace. LDS services are unscripted, so it makes sense that our greetings are likewise unscripted. Instead of shaking hands in the middle of the service and reciting prescribed phrases, ward members come up to me beforehand and ask me how my week was. The past few weeks, I’ve tried to see the interruptions for what they are, and it’s helped.

I’ll just have to remember not to give the next person who interrupts my meditation a hearty “And also with you.”

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[1] The set way varies. Most Protestants respond with “And also with you.” Catholics used to use that same response but have changed it since I graduated from school. Google seems to slightly disagree between “And with your spirit.” or “And also with your spirit.”
[2] One amusing aside – A few months ago, there was some sort of conversation I was having with friends about Star Wars. Someone addressed me and said “May the Force be with you.” Without thinking, I reflexively replied “And also with you.”

Image: Public Domain

Guest Post: Equal Partners or Preside Over — Pick One

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“Holding a Lover” by Caitlin Connolly

By Florence

It all started when the visiting General Authority opened up the small group meeting for questions. My heart started beating a little faster and a little harder. I knew I had to ask.

In a gentle, deliberately non-confrontational voice I questioned, “Is the Church’s policy to not ordain women to offices in the Priesthood doctrinal or an administrative choice? And, if not administrative, what is the doctrinal basis?”

How was I to know that two simple and sincere questions would lead me to calling out the Church on their use of the phrase “preside over” in The Family: A Proclamation to the World?

His response to my questions was less than satisfactory. It was doctrine because the scriptures only talk of men serving in leadership positions. When the Lord’s true church was on the earth there is no mention of women serving in leadership positions.

“What about Deborah in the Bible?”

“Well, yeah…but…”

“But?” I queried.

His response was a sermon on the Proclamation. I wasn’t sure of the connection between my question and his response. But that’s okay. I got my answer. It wasn’t doctrinal. And the Church wasn’t ready to admit it.

Then came the surprise invitation. The visiting Elder was concerned he hadn’t answered my questions and he wondered if I would like to meet with him to talk about it further.

The visit lasted more than an hour. He was a patient, kind and empathetic listener. But again, the answers were not terribly satisfying. At the end of the visit he handed me his business card and invited me to contact him if I wanted to talk again.

For the next few days I considered this invitation. I knew there was one more thing to say. But could I really say it? Gathering my courage, I composed the email:

Dear Elder _____,

I liked when you told me (quoting “The Family: A Proclamation to the World”) that husband and wife are equal partners. It is what I believe also. Unfortunately, it is a direct contradiction to the statement that “fathers are to preside over their families” found two sentences earlier within the same document.

As you mentioned, language is a living thing and meanings of words change with time. Perhaps there was a time when “preside over” meant something good, noble and positive. However, in today’s world this phrase has extremely negative connotations. Even the dictionary definition of preside is in direct opposition to idea of equal partnership.

When the word “preside” (which means to exercise control) is placed in front of the word “over” the message in the Proclamation is that husbands and wives are not equal partners at all. The husband is clearly given the role of ruler, with his wife and children being subject to his direction. Even if the man is to preside over in “love and righteousness” the message is that the man is above the others in his family. Clearly, if one person is ‘over’ someone, the other person is ‘under.’

Perhaps a clearer, more accurate description of the role of fathers could be considered, for two people cannot be equal partners if one has the stated purpose of exercising control over the other.

One thought I have is that perhaps what is meant is something more along the lines of “fathers are to give to give structure, stability and counsel” to the family. Or perhaps there’s another way for the intent of this statement to be expressed without placing one parent above or below another.

I realize you did not write the Proclamation, and that you are not in a position to update or edit it. However, you do have the opportunity to work with those who do have this responsibility. And you do have the opportunity to teach, explain and clarify the principles of the gospel to many people. I hope you will take into consideration the unintended message that is being given within the document “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” and find a way to clarify so that others may more easily feel the love of God within the church’s teachings.

A few hours later I received his response.

Your comments underscore for me the urgency not only to clarify the meaning of the Proclamation on the Family but to clarify for all the church, old and young, male and female, what it means to preside in the gospel sense.

And then he proceeded to explain, very clearly, what it means to preside in the Lord’s way. Three paragraphs. Still less than satisfying. It was infuriating actually.

Calming myself down, I opted to reply. Even if he didn’t get it, I needed to say it.

Thanks for your response. However, I feel that my point was not really understood.

I understand the Church’s interpretation of the word “preside.” I have studied the doctrine. I have no question about how the leaders of the Church would like to see this concept implemented in real life.

My point is, just as you mentioned on Saturday, that word meanings can change and evolve. And the words “preside over” no longer mean what you and I believe the Lord intended. In our society the meaning has evolved to imply something totally different than what the Church is trying to teach. And by continuing to use this language in modern documents many people (both men and women) become confused, hurt and angry.

You have indicated that you feel a need to clarify this teaching. I believe a very simple way to clarify is to choose a word or phrase that accurately conveys the intended meaning.

It reminds me of the Primary song “When Grandpa Comes.” In early versions of the Primary music books the opening line stated “It’s always fun when Grandpa comes, when Grandpa comes we’re gay.” Later (in about the 1980’s?) the line was changed to “It’s always fun when Grandpa comes, when Grandpa comes, Hooray!”

The Church Music Committee obviously understood the meaning of “gay” in the 1980’s and knew it no longer carried the author’s original intent. They could have left the lyrics as they were and instructed all the English speaking music directors to teach the children very clearly that “gay” in this situation did not mean “gay” as the world used the term. Instead they opted to accept that the meaning of the word had changed and it was time to choose different words in order to convey the original intent of the song.

I think that you and other leaders of the Church can teach and clarify the meaning of “preside over” all you want, but the phrase still has a negative connotation to most women and will remain license to abuse for some men. So again, I suggest that you and your colleagues take into consideration the unintended message that continuing the use of these words carry.

And his response?

 

Your comments are true and powerful.  They leave me wondering what it would take to change the very frequent use of the word “preside” in our literature, but at least as it applies to families.  Maybe if we at least change it in the Family Proclamation that would be a start.  I like your ‘fathers are to give structure, stability, and counsel to their families.’

I believe your point is important enough that I am going to see if I can get it heard a bit more broadly.

Now that was satisfying.

Florence has lived long enough to be called old and is inquisitive enough to feel young.

Guest Post: #MormonMeToo Maybe

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“Girl Unraveling” by Caitlin Connolly

by Anonymous

My heart goes out to all those who have shared, or have reason to share but have chosen not to yet, their #MeToo stories. Because of a strict (aka emotionally abusive) Mormon upbringing I have particularly tender feelings for the #MormonMeToo victims. Though my history clearly puts me in the ranks of #MeToo, I had never considered myself a part of the Mormon version. Not until today anyway.

For 35+ years I have seen the sexual abuse that I suffered at the hands of a brother, a sister, a piano teacher and a college classmate as being separate and distinct from my religion. After reading a mountain of #MormonMeToo stories something clicked inside of me and I got it. I finally saw how the religious system that was integral to my childhood set me up for carrying the pain of sexual abuse for way too long.

I don’t know exactly when I figured out the unspoken rules of my family of origin, but I know that by the time I was ten there was no mistaking the obvious patriarchy that served as a guide for our family interactions.

Rule one: Men ruled. Period. They had some sort of god-given authority(?) or something that made them more important, I supposed. I didn’t understand it, but I saw it in my home. I saw it reinforced in the Church. Fathers preside. Priesthood leaders are inspired. Obey your leaders. Follow the Prophet.

Rule two: Family was more important than the individual. The older the family member was, the more important they were. This idea was also supported by the Church. Honor your parents. Respect your elders. Families Are Forever. Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear.

These two rules shaped the way I responded to the traumatic events of my life. With these in place, and as the youngest female child in a family of eight, I felt like I didn’t stand a chance of ever being listened to. But occasionally I would try. Like the day I came home from school to find my brother and his friend were engaged in playing a game of fetch with his friend’s dog. Sounds like a harmless activity, I suppose. But let me fill in the details.

My brother and his friend were in their early 20’s and had embraced the hippie culture in full force. Their long scraggly hair, hollow eyes and tattered clothes were scary to to me. They slept in a VW bus that was parked in front of our upper-middle-class suburban home. They shared the vehicle with a large, black dog with big sharp teeth. I don’t know the breed of dog, but they had name him Genghis. And appropriately so. For in my ten-year-old mind, this dog, along with his master and my brother, appeared to be the epitome of savagery and barbarism. So I came home from school and there they were, throwing my kickball collection across the lawn one ball at a time, commanding Genghis to fetch. Which he did. Energetically he grasped each ball thrown with his big, scary, sharp teeth.

When I took one of the now punctured kickballs to my mom I had tears in my eyes. I was not a child prone to drama. Yet I was truly upset by the destruction of one of my favorite playthings. I explained with a tear-stained face how it happened. My mother just looked at me and gently said, “He’s your brother.” She then turned away and continued with her tasks, effectively ending the conversation and leaving me to conclude that “Families are Forever” felt more like a threat than a promise. It also left me with a clear understanding, three years later, that speaking up about my brother’s sexual adventure at my expense or my sister’s attempts to fondle my breasts would not be met with any degree of empathy or desire to protect me. So I kept quiet.

And when, at age 15, my mother explained to me that the “crazy lady” of the stake had accused our stake president of making unwanted advances and that he was just telling her “I love you” in a brotherly way and that she just really was making a big deal out of nothing because everyone knew that the stake president was a wonderful man, I knew I could not tell anyone that just weeks before, my piano teacher had hugged me and told me he loved me and that I had felt extremely uncomfortable about the whole thing. I didn’t want to be like the “crazy lady.” So I kept quiet. And I quit taking piano lessons. And no one understood why a girl who was so musical and seemed to loved it so much would just up and quit.

And then in college, on a study abroad experience, when a male classmate came to my room and, uninvited, started rubbing my legs and I asked him to stop, I told myself it had happened because I was wearing short-shorts and I shouldn’t have done that. I was such a temptation to him. And he wasn’t LDS so I needed to be nice to him. You know, be a good missionary. And I was. For a little while. And then he tried to force me to do things I didn’t want to do. This time I fought him and received a major head wound when I finally pushed him hard enough to free myself from his grasp and fall against the radiator that was behind me. But I was wearing pants and a non-revealing t-shirt that time. “Was it still my fault?” I wondered.

So while I did not experience a clearly obvious #MormonMeToo moment, after reading others’ experiences, I do believe that the trauma I experienced was made more painful because of harmful beliefs perpetuated within the Mormon culture. And each #MormonMeToo story that I read helps me to identify harmful beliefs that were once invisible to me. Helps me reach out. Helps me heal.

For those who have shared, I thank you. For those who want to share, I encourage you. For those cannot share yet, I support you. Even in your silence I believe you. I was silent too.

Feminist Mormon Housewives with Sara K.S. Hanks and Nancy Ross

In this episode of the Religious Feminism interview series, Sara Katherine Staheli Hanks and Nancy Ross discuss how the blog Feminist Mormon Housewives revitalized the Mormon feminist movement in the early 2000s; the impact of blogging on church members; and their new book, Where We Must Stand: Ten Years of Feminist Mormon Housewives. You can find episode notes for the Religious Feminism Podcast here at the Exponent website: http://www.the-exponent.com/tag/religious-feminism-podcast/

Links to Connect and Learn More:

Where We Must Stand: Ten Years of Feminist Mormon Housewives, edited by Sara K.S. Hanks and Nancy Ross

Feminist Mormon Housewives

Feminist Mormon Housewives on Facebook

 

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Sara K.S. Hanks

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Nancy Ross

Sara Katherine Staheli Hanks’s Feminist Mormon Housewives blog posts

Sara on Facebook

Sara on Instagram

 

Nancy Ross’s Exponent blog posts

Nancy on Facebook

Nancy on Twitter

Additional Resources Discussed in the Podcast:

Year of Polygamy Podcast

The Exponent

Zelophehad’s Daughters

Hunger by Roxane Gay

 

Listen and subscribe for free below:

Who Gets to be White? A Semi-Brief History of Whiteness in the USA

Did you know that, less than 100 years ago, the US Supreme Court issued multiple rulings on whether or not a person was white enough to be a US citizen? Yeah, that happened.

Let’s talk about what “being white” meant throughout US history.  I recently took a class about institutionalized racism in the United States.  I was hoping to gain a broader understanding of racism and how it infects and affects our institutions and interactions in the US.  One thing I didn’t understand was the history of Whiteness, and what it means to be White, in both the cultural and legal sense of that word.  Part of my class was researching and uncovering the different definitions of Whiteness throughout American history, and how Whiteness was purposefully enshrined in laws, policies, and practices throughout American history.  While this is in no way a comprehensive history, here are some brief excerpts from American history that can highlight the complicated nature of Whiteness and can illuminate how white supremacy has been systemically embedded in our nation for the purpose of oppressing non-white peoples since the very beginning.

The Naturalization Act of 1790 was the first statute in the newly-formed United States of America to codify naturalization law.  It specified who could become a citizen in the country: “free white persons of good character.”  This meant that Native American people, enslaved people, and free black people were excluded from federal citizenship, and was the foundation of establishing Whiteness as a defining characteristic of an American person.  In order to be considered “white” at this point in history, you had to be of European ancestry with light skin.

Citizenship was (and is) a critical marker for power.  It entitled a man (because women were not yet considered “people”) to the right to vote, to serve on juries, to serve as an elected official, and to own land.  Citizens had access to resources and opportunities.  Non-citizens were established as a second-tier of personhood.

The 1830 Indian Removal Act forcibly relocated Native Americans from East of the Mississippi River to Oklahoma.  This act deprived Native people of their ancestral lands, which were subsequently distributed to white settlers.  Claiming “divine providence,” as well as the Native people’s refusal to assimilate into “white” culture by learning English, converting to Christianity, and adopt European economic practices, the US government coerced Native tribes to sign treaties that forcibly displaced their people.  Those who did not agree to the terms of the treaties were removed by (sometimes lethal) force.

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Dred Scott

Dred Scott v. Sandford was a US Supreme Court case decided in 1856.  Dred Scott was an enslaved black man who had been relocated to free states, and argued that his residence in free states entitled him to emancipation from slavery.  The all-white Supreme Court denied his petition, stating that he was “of Negro descent,” and as such, “they are not included, and were not intended to be included, under the word ‘citizens’ in the Constitution, and can therefore claim none of the rights and privileges which that instrument provides for and secures to the citizens of the United States.”

The Emancipation Proclamation of 1863 freed enslaved black people, and the Thirteenth Amendment in 1865 formally ended slavery in the US. Critics of the thirteenth amendment voiced concerns that the abolition of slavery would lead to citizenship rights for Black men, and they were right – the Fourteenth Amendment passed in 1868 as one of the banner achievements of Reconstruction, which guaranteed citizenship rights to any person born in the United States.  However, because Native Americans were considered to have “allegiances to foreign powers” (their tribes), they were not considered to be born in the United States and did not quality for citizenship.  The Naturalization Act of 1870 extended naturalized citizenship to “aliens of African nativity and to persons of African descent.”  At this point, only “white” people (light-skinned, European ancestry) and black/”Negro” people (dark-skinned, African ancestry) are able to become US citizens.

The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 banned all immigration from China for ten years, and permanently excluded Chinese nationals from obtaining US citizenship until it was revoked in December 1943.  Chinese immigrants had arrived in the Western US as laborers to build the railroad and respond to the Gold Rush, but increasing Chinese presence was perceived as a threat to white colonial identity.  Additionally, alien land laws were passed throughout the US from the mid-1880’s through the mid-1920’s, which prohibited non-citizens from owning property (the constitutionality of these laws was upheld by various Supreme Court decisions, including Yamashita v. Hinkle in 1922).  This coincided with the beginnings of the “Yellow Peril,” in which massive campaigns were undertook to spread fear about the threat of “yellow” Asian people to “white” people in the US.  White people were worried about low-wage workers stealing their jobs and refusing to assimilate by learning English (sounds familiar, eh?), and that the dilution of the white super-majority would threaten White/European power structures within the US.

John Elk was born a member of the Winnebago tribe in present-day Nebraska, and wanted to become a naturalized US citizen.  Because of the clause about “allegiances to foreign powers” in earlier immigration law, John  renounced his allegiance to the Winnebago tribe, lived among white people, and attempted to register to vote in 1880.  He was denied by the registrar because he was not considered a US citizen.  Elk appealed his decision to the US Supreme Court, which ruled in 1884 (Elk v. Wilkins) that despite being US-born and renouncing his tribal allegiances, Elk was not entitled to US citizenship because he was not white (or black).  This decision effectively disenfranchised Native American people for the next 40 years, when the Indian Citizenship Act was passed that guaranteed citizenship rights to Native American people.

Plessy v. Ferguson was a US Supreme Court case decided in 1896, which enshrined the “separate but equal” doctrine in public facilities, and was the legal backbone for most Jim Crow era laws.  Plessy was a mixed-race man who bought a ticket for a white-only railway car, and because Plessy presented as white (being of 7/8 European descent and 1/8 African descent), he was allowed to purchase the ticket but was arrested on the car.  Plessy sued, arguing that separate rail cars violated his rights to equal protection under the Fourteenth Amendment.  The all-white court denied him, stating that as long as spaces are of “equal” quality, the government can mandate racial separation.  This ruling effectively legalized racial apartheid in the United States, as well as overruled almost all of the legislative victories attained during Reconstruction.  While spaces were supposed to be “equal” in terms of quality and opportunity, all-white power structures didn’t invest funding or other resources into non-white spaces, which led to the under-funding (and sometimes closing) of black schools, libraries, and other public spaces.

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Anita Hemmings

It is in this racial environment that Anita Hemmings applied to Vassar in 1893.  Anita passed as “white,” and attended the all-white university until she graduated in 1897.  A few weeks before she graduated, her roommate voiced suspicions about her racial background to her father, who hired a private investigator.  The investigator discovered that Anita’s parents were both of mixed-race, and told the media.  It turned into a massive scandal.  Anita later married a man who was also of mixed-race, and they raised their children as whites in New York City, where they enjoyed the class & educational benefits afforded to them as whites.  This is one illustration of how massively problematic the “race” question is – so much of it is a subjection cultural perception of how a person performs whiteness.  How light is their skin?  How do they speak?  How do they carry themselves?  Whiteness has never been just about ancestry or melanin (although melanin and ancestry are both critical pieces of Whiteness), but about cultural and performative scripts.

Ethno-nationalism heated up in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  The Nationalization Act of 1906 was passed, which established uniform naturalization laws across the country and prescribed several cultural requirements for becoming a naturalized citizen, including learning English.  Race was not explicitly mentioned in the legislation, but became an actively litigated part of the act through the following decades (more about that later).  Another requirement for a US citizen?  He had to affirm that “he is not a polygamist or a believer in the practice of polygamy.”  The LDS church passed its second manifesto mandating the end of polygamy just one year before the passage of this act.

[image error]Once this act was passed, there were several legal tests against it to determine who was allow to become a citizen, and thus enjoy the benefits of voting, land-ownership, and legitimacy that citizenship afforded.  The Immigration Act of 1917 limited immigration and citizenship even further, requiring literacy tests of immigrants and barring immigration completely from the “Asiatic Barred Zone,” which included the Arabian peninsula, Indonesia, India, and much of China/Mongolia.  It also barred people considered “mentally defective” and with a wide host of cultural characteristics or behaviors, which effectively banned poor people, anybody politically active, sick people, and LGBTQ+ people.

Takao Ozawa challenged the host of immigration acts in his petition for naturalized citizenship.  A Japanese immigrant of twenty years, he didn’t explicitly argue against the racial restrictions of immigration law, but instead argued that Japanese people should be considered “free white persons,” and thus eligible to be naturalized.  His case was denied, and appealed to the Supreme Court, which ruled in 1922 (Ozawa v. United States) that Japanese people were not eligible for citizenship because they are “Mongoloid” and not white, and that citizenship is only available to “those popularly known as the Caucasian race.”

This case was quickly followed by another case that challenged the definition of Whiteness by the law.  Bhagat Singh Thind, an Indian Sikh man who identified himself as a “high caste aryan, of full Indian blood” argued that he should be considered white enough to become a naturalized citizen.  His petition was initially granted, but appealed by government workers who were upset by his political affiliations with an Indian independence movement, and so they argued that he wasn’t white enough for citizenship.  Thind argued that, according to the race science of the time, northern Indians and most Europeans are all of Aryan/Caucasian origin, and should be eligible.  However, in the 1923 Supreme Court Ruling (US v. Bhagat Singh Thind), the court ruled that while Hindi-speaking high-caste people were similar to whites (essentially ‘white-adjacent’), Hindis had intermarried too much with people native to the Indian subcontinent, and as such, do not count as white for the purposes of citizenship.  Because this ruling effectively denounced the idea that Caucasian was the same as White in US legal terms, the legal basis for whiteness essentially became “I can’t define it, but I know it when I see it.”  This goes to prove that, again, Whiteness is not based in science or ethnicity, but instead upon a social construction of what it means to be White, and that social construction has evolved and changed over time with the goal of empowering certain people and marginalizing others.

Take, for example, the case of John Svan, a Finnish-American who lived in Minnesota and applied for naturalized citizenship.  The prosecutor initially rejected his application in 1908, arguing that Finnish immigrants were “mongols” and “yellow” and as such, did not quality for naturalization.  However, a state supreme court judge ruled that while Finns may have been “mongols” at the beginning, they had lived in a cold/Northern climate for an extended period of time, and as such, became some of “the whitest people in Europe.”  During this trial, the Finnish communities in Minnesota and Michigan undertook large-scale campaigns to prove their whiteness in hopes of gaining legitimacy and power in American society.  Part of that was renouncing socialism, which was seen as a non-white political view.  Part of it was learning English, engaging in capitalistic business practices, and assimilating religiously into their communities.  Thus we can see that Finns still had to work to earn their whiteness through the same methods that were demanded of the Native Americans in early American history before they were forcibly removed from their lands, despite having very light skin.  When they were deemed to be a good cultural fit, and light-skinned enough, they were afforded the protective benefits and legitimacy of being considered white in the form of US citizenship.

[image error]That said, even having the rights of citizenship do not always exempt you from racial discrimination at the highest levels of government.  During World War II, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066, which designated certain areas as “military areas” and authorized the removal of all people in those zones of Japanese ancestry to internment camps, regardless of citizenship status.  (How did President Roosevelt know which areas to declare?  He used census data from 1940 to see which areas were predominantly Japanese. This is one of many reasons why questions of citizenship and race on the census are incredibly problematic.)  Kiyoshi Hirayabashi refused to relocate to the camp, and was charged and convicted of violating the relocation order. He appealed his ruling to the Supreme Court, which ruled against him  in 1943 (Hirayabashi v. US) , arguing that racial discrimination is justified since “in time of war, residents having ethnic affiliations with an invading enemy may be a greater source of danger than those of a different ancestry.”  This was further upheld in Korematsu v. US in 1944, which again sided with the government’s right to imprison its own citizens based on ethnicity.

So, who gets to be white?  A jury was actually asked the question of whether a certain person could have been believed as being white in New York in the 1920’s.  Alice Jones was a biracial woman with a “white” mother and a mixed-race father.  She was working as a domestic when she met and fell in love with Kip Rhinelander, a member of the prestigious Rhinelander family in New York, and they had a three-year romance that culminated in their marriage in October 1924.  Despite the Rhinelander’s family attempt to keep the relationship secret, details of their marriage were published in the New York papers, causing a massive scandal and pressure mounted for Kip to annul the marriage.  When Kip’s family threatened to disinherit him two weeks after the marriage for marrying a Black woman, Kip filed for an annulment, claiming that Alice had deceived him into thinking she was white.  Alice refused the annulment, stating that she admitted to being colored and that Kip knew it, too.  The trial devolved into sordid details about Alice’s “dusky breasts and legs,” which were presented as evidence that Kip must have known about her race before he married her.  In fact, Alice’s lawyer presented Alice’s exposed body to the jury in the judge’s quarters, allowing them to examine her naked arms, legs, and breasts as evidence of her blackness.  Alice was so humiliated by the forced exhibition of her body that she was reported to have burst into tears after the jury’s examination.  The jury ended up ruling that Alice could not be white, based on the jury’s examination of her body, and ruled that Kip could not annul the marriage, to his family’s abject shame.  Alice later filed for divorce and obtain alimony payments in exchange for never using the Rhinelander name again.

[image error]What do people have to prove in order to be considered “white” or “non-white” in today’s America?  What does Whiteness mean today?  Is it just US citizens with light skin?  What about Jewish people?  Are Italians white?  What about Turks?  What about mixed-race people?   How does one obtain the legal, cultural, and economic benefits of Whiteness?  Why does society offer legal, cultural, and economic benefits to people who present as White?  Just because Whiteness is a social construction and creation of our own design doesn’t mean it’s something we don’t have to grapple with and acknowledge as a powerful force for oppression and disenfranchisement in today’s society.

Just as it has been throughout its history, Whiteness is synonymous with power and privilege in today’s America.  When a person has less melanin in their skin, there are presumptions made about their status, how much of a threat they’re perceived to be, their innocence or guilt, their trustworthiness, and their fit into American society.  In addition to the eye-test of how light a person’s skin is, certain behaviors and values are inherent in a person’s whiteness: religion, language, and politics all play a role.  Whiteness is seen as desirable, as normal, and as good.  Conversely, the less a person conforms to the ideal of Whiteness, the less desirable, normal, and good they’re perceived to be.

Until we grapple with Whiteness, and understand that the definition of Whiteness moves and changes so that White Supremacy can be preserved at the expense of non-white people, we won’t be able to dismantle systemic racism in America.  Whiteness is why a white woman with an AR-15 slung over her shoulder gets media interviews and marriage proposals but a black man with a cell phone in his hand gets killed by the police.  It’s why African Americans are 6.4 times more likely to be incarcerated as compared to white people.  It’s why Native American people have lower life expectancies and greater barriers to healthcare access as  compared to white Americans.  It’s also why, despite Brown v. Board of Education mandating the desegregation of schools in 1954, schools today are nearly as segregated as they were when that ruling came down, and predominantly-minority schools have less funding than predominantly-white schools.

Until we decouple Whiteness and goodness, we will have a racially segregated country in the US.  Part of that is understanding how Whiteness works, how it’s changed and evolved, and how racism isn’t just individual acts or microaggressions between two people, but have been institutionalized in policies and practices since the inception of America.  There are plenty of examples of laws, policies, and practices that are *still* upholding racism; perhaps that’s something I will try to tackle in another post.  My hope is that, by examining Whiteness as it played out throughout American history, we will begin to understand that Whiteness, and qualifying as White, has been the key to accessing power, resources, and opportunity in America, and it continues to be that way today.  When people demand that immigrants “assimilate,” they are asking them to adopt as much Whiteness as their melanin will allow.  The same goes for when people ask ethnic minorities to name their kids “normal” names, or “speak intelligently” or without an accent.  These are all examples of how we presume Whiteness to be the desirable norm, and how American society upholds White Supremacy as the governing norms in our culture, policies, and practices.  If we want to dismantle White Supremacy, part of that is recognizing how Whiteness operates, and then making a conscious effort toward creating a racially pluralistic society that values and accepts racial, ethnic, cultural, and behavior diversity, rather than upholding Whiteness as goodness.  We need to embrace narratives outside the norm of Whiteness, and we need to champion the narratives, experiences, leadership, and power of non-white people.  Part of this means casting aside our own Whiteness, which can feel like losing one’s own power and legitimacy, but in reality makes room for the power and legitimacy of so many different people and absolutely strengthens us as a nation.

Who gets to be white, and what does it mean for you if you do?  What does it mean for you if you don’t?

A Midlife Anointing

Sister, hearing the call from God to minister to you by virtue of love, faith, sacrifice, and covenant,  I place my hands upon you to anoint you in your pain.

I bless your head that you hair will not fall out from sorrow

I bless your mind, that it will function properly and not betray you

I bless your eyes that they will see true and clearly the light and darkness before them

I bless your ears that they may hear the music of your soul 

I bless your bones that they will hold up your body and feel its rhythms

I bless your feet that they will take you through all the paths that you must walk 

I bless your heart that it will beat 

I bless your face that light will shine from your countenance, and that you will know what it is to be beautiful

I bless your teeth that they will be strong against the grinding

I bless your mouth that it will be a good servant to you

I bless your hands, that they will be productive and quick, that you may work hard and fast without tiring 

I bless your soul with a will to live

I bless your ears that they will hear wisdom

I bless your blood, that it will course properly through your veins and fill you with life

I bless you with hunger for knowledge

I bless you with bravery, and courage in the face of all you learn 

I bless you with faith and trust, and also vigilance and guile

I bless you with the wisdom of women, that you may navigate danger and Patriarchy

I bless you with friends, who will carry their burdens beside you, and love you when you are weak

I bless you with the gift of homemaking, that you may always have a place to go

I bless you with sunshine and rain, with valleys and peaks 

I bless you with curiosity, that you may find joy and interest upon your journey

I bless your life with children, that you may rejoice 

I bless you with sleep, that you may rest from each day

I bless you also with sleepless nights, that you may know solitude

I bless you with delight, with fragrant moments, with summer nights

I bless you, I bless you, I bless you.

In your pain, in your joy, I bless you. 

You are blessed.

 

 

 

(Photo Credit: “.blessed” by tazen, license here)

When God doesn’t intervene

I grew up hearing a message that Heavenly Father answers prayers and brings peace and assurance to us in our pain. This is a beautiful message, but I have often struggled to see it manifested in my life.

Five years ago, I was in a dark place. My family had recently moved to Provo, Utah, and I was struggling to make new friends. I was frequently fasting and praying for spiritual guidance as I had entered what felt like a ‘faith crisis’, and the heavens were silent. I was pregnant and we had just purchased our first home and were struggling to fix it up while caring for our many children and my husband was adjusting to his new job.

I had begun to tell people about my pregnancy at 12 weeks, but a few days later my morning sickness cut off suddenly and I began to have a sinking feeling that all was not well. At 14 weeks, my husband and older children gone for the day, I leant forward in my chair to pick up something and felt a gush of blood. I went into my bathroom and confirmed that there was a lot of blood and I knew I was having a miscarriage. I was alone with two of my two young children and didn’t really know my neighbors yet, but I was continually praying for someone to stop by and help. We had only been in the house for 3 months. I removed my bloody clothing and sat on the toilet, not knowing what to do.  I felt the pressure of something descending, and climbed into the bathtub to squat. It was slow and stuck.

Meanwhile, my newly-potty-trained 3-year-old was calling to me from the other bathroom. She needed help wiping. I girt myself up with a towel, and went to help her. The 1-year-old needed a diaper change as well, so I changed her. I put on a video to try to distract my girls, grabbed the phone, and returned to my bathroom for privacy, and climbed into the tub again. My husband is a schoolteacher and often hard to reach during the day. I called him and told him I was miscarrying and alone and scared, and he said he would come as soon as he could. But I had our only car and knew it would be a while before he could return.

In time, I was able to deliver the ‘products of conception’, an intact bag of waters and a small placenta on my own in the tub. I was able to clean myself up. I don’t know whether I’ve ever felt so alone in my life. My baby was dead, I didn’t feel God answering my prayers, I didn’t know where to turn for help. My little girls were fighting in the other room and I had to get up and be responsible when I had nothing to give. I had to dig a hole in the yard and bury my hope. I had to be strong caring for the rest of the family; and with no baby to care for, I had no excuse to sit and give myself time to recover.

 

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A few weeks later was General Conference. President Monson gave a talk in the Women’s session “We Never Walk Alone”, wherein he shared the story of a sister ‘Tiffany’ who was struggling and felt alone. A virtual stranger was inspired to gift her with a loaf of homemade bread, the only thing she felt she could eat. It was a miracle story, implying that God knows us and our struggles, cares about our desires, and intervenes on our behalf. Yet I felt so unknown and uncared for by God. Why would he send a fresh loaf of homemade bread to one woman who wanted bread and send no one to me while I was miscarrying all alone? I cried crocodile tears through the entire meeting, questions plaguing my mind.

Soon after, we had a special Relief Society evening meeting. The main point of the activity was that God wants to help us achieve our dreams. A few sisters told of their own personal miracles that showed them God was helping them do something they greatly desired. One sister told of how she was unexpectedly able to find a way to participate in a ballet class, which had been once one of her great loves but she hadn’t been able to do for some time. Another told of how as a young mom she would daydream about traveling to Hawaii in the midst of difficult winters and stressful child-rearing. Another told about how she had just decided she’d like to consider law school and took the LSAT as a practice. Before she knew it, she was accepted to the University where her husband worked and got a free tuition benefit. She hadn’t been planning to go for a few years and suddenly she was in law school and didn’t even have to pay. These stories, while beautiful made me feel increasingly bad about myself. I couldn’t understand what was wrong with me that God was so silent and absent in my life and I had to leave the meeting in tears.

In the past few years, my faith journey has led me to change my views on a lot of things. I still think it would have been beautiful to have a stranger pop by during my miscarriage and say “I’ve been thinking about you and wondered if you needed help?” That would have been a faith-building miracle for me in an hour of need. I can see why sometimes people feel that their prayers are answered because they feel loved when they need it. I can see why other people feel unloved and invisible when their prayers are not answered or they feel their needs are unregarded by God. The way we interpret what happens to us changes over time and we often impose our current views on past events or reinterpret them.

I imagine readers will have their own opinions about why sometimes people get answers to their prayers and sometimes they don’t. Or they may opine that all prayers are answered, but sometimes the answers are simply not recognized. The question of whether God loves some of his children more than others is too painful to examine. The question of whether God is really aware of our needs and wants to alleviate our suffering is too heretical. The question of whether his hands on earth are open to his inspiration to lift one another’s burdens. The question of who really deserves a miracle, or what a miracle really is. Who is God? Does God really intervene in the lives of some and not others?

I Still Love My Children

Unbelievably, there is still rhetoric in the LDS church claiming that women should be at home with their children.

There are so many problems with this that I don’t quite know where to start. Firstly, not all women in the church HAVE, WANT or CAN HAVE children. This should be an obvious reason why we shouldn’t focus so much on motherhood. Secondly, our simplistic style of approaching the home and family is often lacking the nuance of personal circumstances and embraces gender normative roles, homophobia and anti-feminism. I used to think there wasn’t a Mormon mould. I was dead wrong.

Today I want to talk about my experience.

I never knew I was born to be anything other than a mother. When a high school teacher asked me what I wanted to be, I gleefully replied, “I want to be a Mum!” She encouraged me to have diverse life goals. I brushed this aside. What did she know?

I would marry and my husband would work! I would push out four or five perfect children and live in bliss! That’s what happens, right?

Motherhood was hard from the start. Confusing, lonely and hard. Existing anxiety and depression was magnified to dangerous levels.

When my second was born, on my first night alone with my two boys, I screamed so loudly in my toddlers face that the whole neighbourhood must have heard. He sat next to me on the bed crying, with my newborn screeching on my lap. “Mummy has to leave,” I said sadly to them through my tears. I honestly believed they would better off without me. I told my GP about this and she immediately suggested putting my toddler in an extra day of daycare. I had no family or close friends in that particular area and she was concerned. Honestly, the extra day really helped.

A year later, we moved back to our home base. We had family and friends around, so everything would be fine, right?

Wrong.

I didn’t have the kids in care because I felt like it wasn’t needed anymore with a support system around. Yet, I was yelling at them more than ever, followed by the most bone-crushing guilt I had ever experienced. It got to a point where I was again having suicidal thoughts. This time, they were very invasive. I would be in the middle of doing something and the thoughts would creep in, unnoticed till they started screaming at me.

I put the kids in care 2 days a week, found a therapist, and went on antidepressants. Things really picked up for me, but something was still missing.

Inspired by friends like Rachel Hunt Steenblik, I decided to look into my study options. I was terrified. I’ve always been anxious about new things. With the help of my husband in administrative tasks, I applied for university and got in. I am now studying psychology as well as some literature based electives. My kids are in care 4 days a week, one of those with their Grandmother who completely adores them and appreciates the extra cash.

Yet, I hear things from women at church about what the ‘proper thing’ is: staying at home with the children. I have, at least on one occasion, explained that I would become suicidal if I didn’t have my children in care.

Hearing these criticisms of my choices causes me to wonder what these women think is happening to my children. Are they (*gasp*) being introduced to new people and ideas by being allowed to venture beyond our door? Are they emotionally starved, because they aren’t in my care 24 hours a day?

To be honest, I don’t know what the problem is.

They have wonderful carers and friends in care. My four-year-old son comes home every night telling us facts about planets and the solar system. My two-year-old, who was not exposed to many people in his first years, is finally becoming more comfortable and sociable. When they get home, we nestle in for cuddles and talk about our day together. We play Super Mario Galaxy for my son to watch. He says “try again” when we fail a level, and “good job!” with thumbs up when we succeed. He suddenly loves drawing and likes to draw the planets with faces on them. I get to miss them now. It makes our time much more special than it originally was, and I’m yelling less and smiling more. I also feel spiritually and psychologically edified learning about the amazing brain, and discussing children’s literature.

One lady in my class even has a child in the same room in the local daycare. We get to talk about our children and how they play with each other. It’s a nice feeling for both of us to be away for a little while, working on skills for our future.

I still love my children, but I get to feel like a person now. I’m becoming a better mother through my choices to care about myself.

If women are able to do that staying at home, I applaud them and hope they feel empowered in their choice. Please extend to me, and women like me, the same respect.

Sexual abuse survivors in Victoria to be able to sue churches

[image error]New law is being enacted in the state of Victoria in Australia. It’s emphasis is in being able to sue the church for the actions of someone acting in the name of the church, i.e. survivors don’t have to name an individual publicly as a part of the Betrayal of Trust report . Though it is primarily focused on child sex abuse survivors in the Catholic church, the change in legislation brings forward the ability of those who were hurt in any church, including the Mormon church to come forward.

 

Within the last 2 decades in Australia, some lay leaders in the Mormon church advised that “as the church is a family,” then members of the primary presidency and even general church members could “use [corporal punishment] at church, in Sunday school and in primary.” In some wards, this unofficial policy has resulted in a generation of “less active” church members who, as children, were hit by random ward members and therefore chose to not remain in the church, and did not raise their children in the church.

 

It will be interesting to watch over the next few years as (former) LDS church members decide to file lawsuits for their childhood church corporal punishment, and/or sexual abuse they suffered at the hands of the LDS church’s lay leadership.

Relief Society Lesson Plan: Ministering is Motivated By Christlike Love

[image error]This Fourth Sunday discussion can be a great opportunity to talk about radical examples of Christ’s ministry and ways we can show Christlike love in our ministry. This prompt starts with a few suggestions to get discussion going (see link).

We’ve talked about what ministry is, how Christ ministered, and how this is God’s work.

I wanted to take a slightly different approach with this idea and show a variety of ways that women minister in and out of the Church. The common thread in these stories below is that these are examples in women’s lives about their access to personal revelation and how it showed them how to minister in unexpected ways.

In the manual, Daughters in My Kingdom, we have a chapter on ministry through visiting teaching. (I think it’s also neat to see how the Lord has been preparing God’s people to receive the new ministering program through subtle changes in language over time.)   Chapter 7, “Pure Religion’: Watchcare and Ministering through Visiting Teaching, includes several gems about the history of Visiting Teaching and ways Church leaders (women and men) have been inspired to minister to those under their care.

Early on in The Exponent’s history, we did a book club on the blog, discussing Take This Bread: a Radical Conversion by Sara Miles.  In “Strangers Bring us Closer to God,” Pastor Miles talks about how she received her inspiration to minister to those in her community by filling the basic need that we see throughout the scriptures, that of being fed. She writes,

“Poking around in the Bible, I found clues about my deepest questions. Salt, grain, wine and water; fig trees, fishermen and farmers. There were Psalms about hunger and thirst, about harvests and feasting. There were stories about manna in the wilderness, and prophets fed by birds. There was God appearing in radiance to Ezekiel and handing him a scroll: ‘Mortal,’ he said, ‘eat this scroll,’ and Ezekiel swallowed the words, ‘sweet as honey,’ and knew God.

And then in the New Testament appeared the central, astonishing fact of Jesus, proclaiming that he himself was the bread of heaven. ‘Eat my flesh and drink my blood,’ he said. I thought how outrageous Jesus was to the church of his time: he didn’t wash before meals, he said the prayers incorrectly, he hung out with women, foreigners, the despised and unclean. Over and over, he told people not to be afraid. I liked all that, but mostly I liked that he said he was bread, and told his friends to eat him…

I couldn’t stop thinking about another story: Jesus instructing his beloved, fallible disciple Peter exactly how to love him: ‘Feed my sheep’… It seemed pretty clear. If I wanted to see God, I could feed people.”

And so that is what she did, opening food pantries in her town because that’s what Jesus wanted her to do, to feed His sheep.

Harvard Divinity School did also talked about helping the larger community in the panel, “Homelessness at Harvard: How Serving Your Neighbor Can Change the World.” This interfaith panel talks about what I truly hope for with the ministering program: working in the larger community with people of various faiths to help those who need it most.

Our perma blogger, Trudy, has written several posts about her call to ministry in prison populations.

But, what if you don’t have time or resources to do a daily, weekly or monthly continual ministry? Our bloggers write about how they have felt inspired to minister and use the scriptures for more examples.

Zenaida writes about prayer shawl ministry as she explores other churches and their ways of serving others.

Emeritus blogger, Melody, writes about how she was inspired to start a women’s writing retreat as part of her ministry.

“As a feminist, I look forward to the time when alterations in structure are significant enough to bring a true balance of power within the Church. Until that time, I’ve been looking for ways to answer what feels like a call to minister in my own way.”

Dora and Liz turn to the scriptures for feminist ways we can see examples of ministry.

In “Healing the Crippled Woman and Church,” Dora writes about Christ’s ministry and how when he ministered he did it in very radical ways.

“In calling the woman to him, he invited her into heretofore exclusively male religious territory, and flouted the conventions that excluded women from public spiritual, social and political activity.

He spoke to her and laid his hands on her for the healing. Interestingly enough, prior to Christ’s ministry, there is no biblical record of men laying hands on non-related women for healings or blessings. She was immediately, ‘made straight and glorified God.'”

In our Women and the Bible series, Liz asks, “How does the model of pastoral care set by Shiphrah and Puah affect how we minister to each other, how we visit teach one another, how we interact with church leadership, and how we act?” Not only is this blog post an excellent example of women ministering in the scriptures, it’s also a great example of how we can interpret and apply the stories we read in the scriptures.

As someone who is not currently considered “active,” I feel like it’s important to address how to minister to those who are on the rolls of the Church but do not come to Church.  In her post, “There is Room for You,” emeritus blogger, East River Lady writes this,

“I’d still like to think that when I am ready to return, there will be room for me. If not, I’ll make room. I know it’s there. I just have to find it and carve it out. There wasn’t room for Christ while he went about His ministry–– He was rejected and despised and considered a radical. But nonetheless, He went about His Father’s business and He made room. And his disciples and friends followed and supported Him, while gaining new supporters and friends. Heck, there wasn’t even room for Mary at the inn, but that didn’t stop the Savior from being born! Mary made room for Him! Now, not only is there room for Christ, there are mansions dedicated to His name! And He tells us today there is room for us. And I believe it.”

Sometimes, inactive people don’t come to Church weekly because they are apathetic, but I think this is unusual. Many of us have chosen to stay home for personal and painful reasons. It would be arrogant to assume that someone is inactive because they are lazy or easily offended. How can we minister to those who aren’t active? I would ask the class to share stories about ministering to inactive members.

I’ll share some of my thoughts here because they have changed dramatically since I am on the other side now.

1. Pray for those you want to minister to.

I used to think that when I did this, it wasn’t actually accomplishing anything because more often than not, I didn’t feel inspired to do much more than keeping a person on my list. I now realize that as someone who finds weekly attendance too painful, I love the idea of my visiting teacher (visiting minister?) praying for me every day. In fact, that’s all I really want, and my relationship with my VT has improved dramatically once I told her this.

2. Ask what she would like

This applies to active or inactive. Some people just want a treat, some people want a text, some people want a nice long visit in their home every month. Ask your charges. It will help both of you.

3. Love those you minister to

I sometimes look at how I treated friends and charges who were inactive, and I cringe, but I’m trying to be easier on myself. People can spot someone doing something out of the kindness of their heart and their pure desire to be friendly and show love as opposed to someone who wants to be able to check you off their list…a duty done, a notch in one’s belt. The examples I have linked to in this lesson help are, I hope, ideas you and your class can discuss to figure out how to have that Christlike love.

I love that in the Book of Mormon, we read that charity is the pure love of Christ. I would end this lesson with Moroni 7:46-48,

46 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—

47 But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.

48 Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen.

Photo by Rosie Fraser on Unsplash