Exponent II's Blog, page 88
July 11, 2023
Guest Post: Unraveling Mother’s Day 2023
Guest post by Lacey Parr, who is a homeschool educator in Minnesota. She loves swimming in cold water and growing strawberries.
I brought cotton thread
Wooden needles
To keep my hands busy
My mind calm
But my yarn becomes tangled
I keep knitting
Only to pause over and over
When the knot gets too close
I loosen and pull,
Keep knitting but
Over and over I am stopped.
I have to lay down my needles.
I have to pause until the knot is unraveled, untangled.
A deep breath.
I pull at one
And another
I pull a thread
Until the end is revealed.
I loosen the threads at the center
Over and over.
At times the center grows tighter.
I wrap the untangled bits into a neat package.
Again I pull at the center and exhale.
The center reveals why all the
Aaronic priesthood choirs
Bars of chocolate
Primary choirs
Planted flowers
Cannot compensate for what the center of the tangle conceals.
I pull again and at last the center falls open.
There our Mother wound lays bleeding.
For centuries,
Generations
It has been hidden, sometimes bandaged.
Often buried, edited out, deleted.
Ignored.
But wounds the size of Mother do not heal when ignored.
They fester.
They bleed.
They remain open.
Ready to be filled with a Feminine Divine.
Ready to be filled with
Ordained women
Egalitarian relationships
Organizational transparency
A shame-free culture
True vulnerability
A judgment-free culture
Freedom to choose our own paths.
See you at Sunstone 2023
The Sunstone 2023 Summer Symposium is coming right up! It will be held July 27-29 at the Mountain America Expo Center in Sandy, Utah. On Saturday, July 29, at 9 AM, come see me (Katie Ludlow Rich), Nancy Ross, Heather Sundahl, and Jeanine Bean talk about Exponent II: Past and Present. You can register for the conference here.
One event I’m excited about is this year’s Smith-Pettit Lecture by Dr. Kristin Kobes Du Mez. She is a professor of history and gender studies at Calvin University and is the New York Times best-selling author of the brilliant book Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation. The lecture will be Thursday, July 27 from 7-8:30 PM and is free and open to the public with no registration required.
The Sunstone Summer Symposium is a fascinating way to meet many kinds of Mormons, with people from many branches of the restoration tradition. Check out the schedule here to see the lineup of speakers. I hope to see you there!
July 8, 2023
Sarita
I walk into my abuelita’s room and she’s hunched over a book of genealogy- the old ones with the long horizontal pages of lines and brackets that fan out into generation after generation. She has a pencil and is making notes, small scribbles about memories or facts, reading and revising, checking and rechecking. She doesn’t hear or see me standing in the door and I always have the same thought when I see her curled over the books in her lap “Doesn’t that hurt her back and neck?” I straighten up vicariously before calling her name “Hola Abuelita- cómo estas?” She looks up, her eyes brighten, her mouth makes a little delighted “oh” and she smiles. Then, she says my favorite thing in the world “Ahhh hola Sarita!”
When she arrived in the US as a Mexican immigrant she presented her passport and papers to the woman behind the glass and waited. She knew a few words of English- enough to understand when the women looked at her name, Maria de los Angeles Rueda, and drew a line through “de los Angeles” and said with disdain, “I don’t need to know where you are from” and changed her documented name forever, oblivious to her own ignorance. Catching on that Americans needed things in simplistic terms, she went by Angela from then on, Angie to her friends.
She named my mom Irma and I loved to hear her say it- the roll of the “r” falling softly out of her mouth, distinct from the harder “Errrrrma” from my dad and everyone else. I was today years old when I learned that Irma has Germanic roots and means “universal” or “complete.” Did my mom complete some part of her? Did she become the center of her world, if only for a little bit before her siblings arrived?
The story goes that when my mom was pregnant with me, she and my dad wanted a name for me that reflected my mixed race heritage. My dad was born in Bountiful, Utah and like other Mormon colonizer descendents was all British Isles but had skin and hair just as dark as my mom’s. His darkness and his spanish- learned as a missionary in Mexico- often had people guessing where he was from.
His mom- Grandma Bybee- was not pleased when he decided to marry Irma. Spencer W. Kimball said that the prophetic “recommendation” was that people marry within their own race and Grandma believed him. It’s one thing to go and preach the Gospel to them, another thing entirely to marry one of them. She did what she could to stop the marriage, and when that failed, she found other ways to intervene.
My dad wanted to name me Xochitl, meaning “flower” in Nahuatl. Grandma campaigned for something more acceptable, lobbing visions of teachers being unable to pronounce my name, kids making fun of me, a lifetime of me having to correct people’s attempts to talk to me as the next round in her war on everything Mexican. So Sara it was. Easy, biblical.
I don’t know why my parents didn’t call me Sarita. I do know that they made conscious decisions to de-emphasize our Mexicanness; mom learning to cook casseroles, stopping speaking Spanish to me in the home when Grandma Bybee objected, emphasizing the Gospel as the most important “culture” in our home. I only ever heard “Sarita” when we visited Abuelita and Abuelito from my mom’s side of the family.
I grew up in Central California, surrounded by Mexicans and disconnected from my own Mexicanness. My parents taught me again and again that the most important “culture” in our house was the Gospel. So when my white boyfriend told me that his dad said we have to break up because he “didn’t want his son dating some Mexican” I told him that his dad was an idiot because “I’m not Mexican.” My only real connection was “Sarita” and that name was like a cultural artifact in a museum that I only saw a few times a year; it was hard to feel like it much to do with me.
It wasn’t until I was filling out my application for BYU and I saw the “Hispanic” box that I began to be curious about what checking that box meant about me. “Technically” I thought, “It’s true- if my mom is Mexican then I’ve got to be Mexican too…” and I tenuously checked the box. I remember exactly where I was- the school library- and I remember that it felt like something with significance.
I went to BYU and two seismic things happened; I was radicalized into a more strict form of Mormonism which birthed my hypervigilance, and I was Mexicanized. In California, almost everyone had looked like me but now I was swimming in a sea of blond hair and it felt very, very different. I was Mexican. I was Mexican.
It was like discovering a hidden room in the house of my being, camouflaged behind a false wall of “Gospel culture” that was always there, waiting to be found. I threw myself into filling that room with semester after semester of Spanish classes. Serving a mission in Bolivia sealed the Spanish-speaking deal and after I came home, I loved to delight my Abuelita by speaking the language that had become an easy, permanent part of me. “Aye Sarita, que bien hablas español!” she would say with her crinkly, twinkly eyes.
When she passed away last December, I was afraid that my name had died with her. We had been neighbors for the last 8 years of her life and almost every week she greeted me with “Hola Sarita” in her wispy, elderly voice. I loved it every time I heard it. Names matter; what we call people roots them to themselves, so much so that sometimes they choose a new name to root into that feels more authentic to them than the “best guess” their parents gave them at birth. So, I asked some of my friends to call me Sarita. It will never replace her voice- but I don’t need a replacement. I just love the reminder.
July 6, 2023
Three Reasons Why My Children Participate in Vacation Bible School
It’s the time of year when Christian Children all over the US are attending Vacation Bible School programs. These have a special place in my heart and so I want to talk about my family’s experiences with VBS programs over the past few years.
I still remember the first time I heard about Vacation Bible School. I was living in Texas at the time. My son’s speech therapist was talking about how she was volunteering to run VBS for her church. I had to ask, “What’s VBS?” She gave me a look of surprise and said, “It’s Vacation Bible School.” The way she said it I think she expected me to know what that was, but this was still a new concept to me. She went on to explain that churches do Vacation Bible School programs for their Children’s Ministries. They last for a few hours every morning for 3 to 5 days. They have themes and the kids have lots of fun participating and learning about Jesus.
I thought that sounded nice, but my children were all very young at the time so I didn’t think about having them participate. I didn’t know it then, but VBS would become a treasured tradition for our family. I live in the intermountain west again, and I sign my children up for VBS every year. Now I’m the one that has to explain to my LDS friends what Vacation Bible School is. I admit, no one has ever outright asked me why an active LDS family actively seeks out other churches for Vacation Bible School. But I think a few people have had questions over the years – they’ve just been too polite to ask. So here is what I would tell them if they asked why my children attend Vacation Bible School.
Reason 1: Being Part of a CommunityThe first Vacation Bible School that my kids went to was also the first VBS that I participated in. We were living on an Army Base in Alabama. The chapel on post had five congregations of different Christian denominations. The LDS church was one of those denominations. Most of the LDS people in the area went to the local wards in the cities off post, but there was a small group that met on Sundays for the service members who couldn’t leave post because they were in specialized training programs.
The LDS Chaplain had a good repour with the other denominations. His wife participated in the Protestant Women of the Chapel group. I thought she was pretty cool so I started going to the PWOC Group too and really enjoyed those activities. I knew that the LDS Chaplain and his family would participate in Vacation Bible School in the summer so I decided that my family should too. I signed up as a tribe leader. I was assigned the nine year old class. My oldest two daughters were old enough for the youngest group. My younger two children were able to participate in the equivalent of the nursery class since I was volunteering as a tribe leader.
I have the BEST memories of that week of Vacation Bible School. The whole week was about Joseph in Egypt. People dressed up in costumes to tell the story of Joseph throughout the week. We decorated our classrooms to look like tents or buildings. The kids were kept busy with arts and crafts, song practice, games, and stories. There were snacks. There was a petting zoo. There was a place the kids could make bricks out of mud. There was a bread station with hot homemade bread coming out of an oven all morning long. (The LDS chaplain’s wife and I would sneak over there while our groups were occupied and enjoy bread and oil together.) The whole thing culminated in a water party on Friday morning.
The best part was the feeling of community as five congregations of various Christian traditions came together to make an amazing experience for 100 children. We didn’t worry about the specifics of theology. We focused on our common beliefs and had a good time doing it. I can still picture how happy everyone was to be there. The people running the craft station were so kind. The music people were so energetic. The people running the bread station were amazing. Being part of that group of people is one of my favorite memories of my time in Alabama.
Thanks to that experience Vacation Bible School will always represent participating in the community.
Reason 2: There’s more than one way to worship GodWhen I was about four years old I often heard my parents and church teachers say that “we are the only true church.” I thought they were talking about my ward. I assumed that the Wilson Ward was the only true church. I remember thinking that we were very kind to let the Ivans Ward share our building even though they weren’t the true church.
I eventually figured out that the Ivans Ward was part of the true church too. But sadly my thinking was still pretty insular for most of my life. It wasn’t until I lived in the South and hung out with other Christians that I started to realize that there was truth in other churches.
I didn’t want my children growing up with the same limited thinking that I’d grown up with. I wanted them to see that other churches had truth and goodness too. I figured that VBS was a good way to introduce my children to other ways of thinking about being Christian. After participating in VBS that first year I wanted my children to participate every year.
However, life had other plans. We lived in a very remote area the next summer so there weren’t VBS options. Then I was working and my kids were in daycare so it didn’t make sense to pull them out for a few days of Vacation Bible School. I would have been able to sign my children up for a VBS program in 2020 if Covid hadn’t shut things down.
In 2021 things worked out so that I could sign my children up for a VBS program. I asked on the local Mom’s page on Facebook for recommendations and picked a program happening at a church near my house. I wasn’t able to volunteer, but I figured my daughters would have a good time anyway. (My son has noise sensitives and some behavioral challenges so I decided to keep him home.)
My girls were a little apprehensive at first. They had very few memories of our VBS experience in Alabama. They’d also spent the last year being homeschooled (thanks Covid) so they weren’t exactly used to being around other children. I ended up sitting with my youngest during the first 40 or so minutes of the first day. I was able to watch my children go from scared to curious to totally involved in those 40 minutes.
The theme that year was Treasured. All week long the kids learned that they were God’s greatest Treasure. The worship area was decorated like some sort of ancient ruin and the children’s ministry leader was dressed like an explorer. There was someone else dressed up like a treasure hunter. He was looking for treasure, but the children’s ministry leader kept trying to explain to him that the people in the room were the greatest treasure.
My kids really responded to the message and to the fun atmosphere. Our ward was still having Primary in the chapel (thanks again Covid) and so Primary had been a little stiff lately. Everyone had been so focused on keeping the kids reverent in the chapel they’d forgot to make it interesting. So to be in a room where everyone could laugh at this funny treasure hunter was really great for my kids. They also responded well to the loud singing that they were encouraged to do.
I was happy my children could see that worshipping God can involve more than just folding hands and being still. God loves loud, joyful singing and funny skits. Worship can involve a chapel decorated like an Indian Jones set.
On the second to last day the church put on a very short reenactment of Jesus dying on the cross. It wasn’t scary or gruesome. But it was impactful. My children talked about that for a while. They’d seen reenactments of the crucifixion on LDS videos, but watching it acted out on a stage was new to them. And it helped them see things in a different way. That’s they type of thing I wanted them to see. I wanted them to know other people believed in Jesus.
Reason 3: VBS is FUNI was pretty sure that my kids would participate again in VBS in 2022. But it was actually Primary that convinced me that they had to go back. I was helping substitute my son’s class while one of his teachers was out of town. When we sat down for singing time I couldn’t take my eyes off my eight year old daughter. She looked so bored.
We were back in the Primary room by this time, but somehow our ward still hadn’t figured out how to make Primary interesting. They were learning a song for Father’s Day. The chorister had printed off the words to the song. Each phrase of the song corresponded to a picture. They would sing the song and then the chorister would pick a child who would take down one of the pictures. Then they’d sing the song again. They’d take down another picture and sing the song again. With each repeat of the song my daughter sat lower and lower in her chair. She was completely disengaged.
Later that day I heard her in the backyard loudly singing one of the songs she’d learned at VBS the year before, “God loves ME, God hears ME, God is my COMFORT.” She sang all the words. I couldn’t help think of the contrast between how she didn’t know a single word to the song she’d been “taught” in Primary that day, but she still knew every word to the song she’d learned at VBS the year before.
That’s when I knew she and my other daughters had to go back to VBS again. They needed another fun and joyful religious experience. For some reason the church from the year before wasn’t doing a VBS program so I had to go back to the local moms Facebook Page and ask again for recommendations. I picked another church and signed my girls up.
This church was doing a program called Camp Masterpiece where the children learned that they are God’s Masterpiece. One of the first things they did on the first day was tie dye shirts. The shirts all said, “Living Master Piece” on them. My children have proudly worn them for the last year.
My eight year old daughter loved that VBS program. She’s a loud and rambunctious child. She loved that she could sing loudly and cheer and clap during the big group time. She loved playing games and doing crafts with her small group. One of my 11 year olds loved the program too. She liked all the crafts and was also really into the teachings. Ever since she attended that VBS she will proudly say that she’s a Christian. (The other twin decided she’d rather stay home – which was fine.)
My daughters got more out of their three days at VBS than they had from a whole year of Primary. I’m not saying that Primary is boring and uninteresting for all children, but it certainly is those things for my children. My children need fun, and color, and excitement, and noise. They don’t respond well to being told to sit still and be reverent while listening to adults with sing song voices.
And this year . . .My children will be participating in another VBS program this year. Our schedules didn’t work with the program we did last year so I had to ask for more recommendations from the local mom’s Facebook page. I loved seeing all the options that people suggested. I live in an area that is has a large LDS population, but there are many thriving Christian churches here. I love how many options there are for VBS programs. I picked one that is doing a program called “Wild Life.” It looks like is has something to do with how God created so many interesting animals and how you are also one of his wonderful creations.
I was able to sign my 9 year old up, but my twins are now too old to participate. They are interested in volunteering so we are exploring that option. I’m interested to see what they all learn and experience this year.
I highly recommend Vacation Bible School as a way to tap into your community, to help your children have a more expansive view of God, and to just add some fun into their religious lives. It’s a wonderful experience.
Featured Image Photo by Artem Kniaz on Unsplash
July 4, 2023
Stars and Stripes and Stories: Rethinking 4th of July Home Decor
I like decorating for the holidays. Though I’m neither that orderly nor consistent with the practice, it’s a small ritual that marks beginnings and endings. When I pull out favorite pieces once a year, I enjoy reminiscing about their origins and I like the creative challenge of considering what to add.
My mother, fueled by Relief Society Super Saturdays and Homemaking activities, has an entire closet of holiday décor, each organized into respective boxes and switched out accordingly. There’s plenty of stereotypical hearts, clovers, turkeys, snowmen, and other standard symbols of the holidays. Some of the pieces are pure Mormon kitsch, some hail from our elementary school days, and some have been picked up from home décor stores over the years.
In continuance of this tradition, I have some odd little bins in the basement, haphazardly labeled and sometimes left to rot if I miss a holiday window. Whenever I do pull up a bin and set out its contents, my faith deconstruction and reconstruction experiences have me asking questions. The status quo isn’t satisfying anymore and I find myself yearning for more meaning, more substance.
So I ask myself, why am I even celebrating St. Patrick’s Day? Why celebrate romantic love when there are so many kinds of love to celebrate? Would observances of solstices and pagan holidays feel more authentic? How do I de-commercialize Christmas? How do I (should I even) reconcile Thanksgiving with the history of colonialism? What are sustainable practices in holiday observances? And perhaps, more than any other holiday observance, how do I reconcile the fractured history, unrealized dreams, and current state of my country with the 4th of July?
In the face of police violence, corruption, gun violence, transphobia, and the aftermath of a stricken Roe v. Wade, it feels disingenuous to simply put up bunting and say yay, America.
At the risk of asking far too much of home décor, but in keeping with continuing rituals in which I find value, I want to practice intentionality when decorating for the summer, incorporating Juneteenth and the 4th of July as a sort of season of observance.
If this is a time of year for honoring the ideal of freedom, can my décor reflect the stories of the Tulsa Massacre, the Stonewall Riots, the long walks to school integration, the Water Protectors, the Radium Girls, and all those who sacrifice in pursuit of the promise of a more perfect union? Can décor tell a messy story that is more challenging, less simple, and not so easy to decorate for? It’s certainly not just a flag and some bunting.
It might be pictures and books and symbols that are different from the standard but provide more substance. Because I am a mom of three mixed race children and an educator, I’d rather look at reminders on my shelves and walls that spark questions and conversations.
Photo by Unseen Histories on UnsplashHome décor is, on many levels, a very silly thing. It’s mostly about making our surroundings pretty or comfortable, which might feel at odds with the idea of adding discomfort or complexity. It’s certainly just as easy to change out décor without changing ones heart as it is to like a social media post or offer thoughts and prayers, but home decor also presents an opportunity to educate, enrich, empower, and recognize the full spectrum of a country finding its way forward unevenly that seems worthwhile. If I’m going to invest time and money to decorate for holidays and continue the tradition, this seems a way forward.
Featured Photo by Camylla Battani on Unsplash
June 15, 2023
Vol. 42 No. 4 — Spring 2023
COVER ART — “Arrival” by Laura Erekson
I ran out to my garden several times during the creation of this work, gathering everything from Italian parsley to grapes. It explores the complexities of womanhood and female identity. The woman standing in a lush garden represents not only Eve, but all women past, present, and future. The central question is whether she is lost or found, or both. This work is both a tribute to the resilience and strength of women and an invitation to examine our own journeys and celebrate them. It is an ode to the long line of women who have come before us and an affirmation of the infinite possibilities that lay ahead.
@lauraereksonart | ereksonatkinson.com
LETTER FROM EDITOR “A Reverence for Trees, a Reverence for Printers” by Rosie Gochnour Serago
ESSAY “Complete Reconstruction // Reconstructing Completion” by Kimberly Applewhite Teitter
ESSAY “The Place that Doesn’t Exist” by Allison Pingree
FICTION “Holy Week” by Carol Lynn Pearson
ESSAY “A Letter to My Daughter” by L.E.R.
POETRY “After Dobbs” by Alixa Brobbey
WOMEN’S WORK “Meet Sue Zwahlen: the First Woman (and LDS) Mayor of Modesto, California” — Interview with Mayor Zwahlen by Katie Ludlow Rich
ARTIST FEATURE “Holiness Found Everywhere” — Interview with Kathryn Ivy Reese
BLOG FEATURE by Kaylee McElroy, Mindy Farmer, Bryn Knowlton Neenos, Nicole Sbitani
POETRY “Our Mother-Goddess Gleaming Bright, a Hymn” by Sarah J. Carter
THEOLOGY “The Lord Has Directed”: Precedent & Revelation in Priesthood Ordination” by El Call
ESSAY “Clean” by Josieanna Peterson
ESSAY “Gentle Parenting” by Lauren Toiaivao Bost
POETRY “Reluctant, Radiant” by Heidi Naylor
ESSAY “Working Mom” by Janalie C. Bingham Joseph
BOOK REVIEW of Every Needful Thing by Melissa Wei-Tsing Inouye & Kate Holbrook — Reviewed by Ynna Padilla
ESSAY “Not Giving My Son the Priesthood” by Alma Frances Pellett
BOOK REVIEW of O Lady, Speak Again by Dayna Patterson — Reviewed by Rachel Rueckert
ESSAY “Wayfinding Between Worlds” by Trang Thach Hickman
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EDITORIAL STAFF
Editor-in-Chief Rachel Rueckert
Managing Editor Carol Ann Litster Young
Art Editor Page Turner
Managing Art Editor Natalie Taylor
Layout Designer & Editor Rosie Gochnour Serago
Women’s Theology Editor Eliza Wells
Poetry Editor Abby Parcell
Blog Feature Editor Katie Ludlow Rich
Book Reviews Editor Ynna Padilla
Subscription Manager Gwen Volmar
Proofreaders Kami Coppins, Cherie Pedersen, Karen Rosenbaum
Additional Staff Tracy Allen, Kif Augustine, Kate Bennion, Jessica Mitton, Alma Frances Pellett, Emma Tueller Stone
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EXECUTIVE BOARD
President Lori LeVar Pierce
Vice President & Secretary Lindsay Denton
Treasurer Jeanine Bean
Members Crystal Adams, Andee Bowden, Carol Ann Litster Young, Ramona Morris, Rachel Rueckert, Nancy Ross, Heather Sundahl
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SPECIAL THANKS
This magazine is volunteer-led and reader-funded. Please consider a donation, supporting our Patreon, or subscribing to support our contributors and community!
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Exponent II (ISSN 1094-7760) is published quarterly by Exponent II. Exponent II has no official connection with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Articles published represent the opinions of authors only and not necessarily those of the editor or staff.
Copyright © 2023 by Exponent II, Inc. All rights reserved.
“A Reverence for Trees, a Reverence for Printers” by Rosie Gochnour Serago
This spring, Exponent II found a printer that agreed to be our midwife. Due to an initial email joke that didn’t really land, our account representative, Mary, actually thought our magazine was about midwifery. After the confusion passed, we agreed she wasn’t entirely wrong, and when I had my first tour of North Star’s printing facility she expressed how enthusiastic she was to be “a midwife” to the words and artwork of Mormon women and gender minorities.
In fact, similar to a midwife, I observed a real reverence and fortitude in Mary as we discussed the details of printing our first issue together while we walked through the facility in Spanish Fork, Utah. She taught me how they accomplish zero-waste production, taking extra steps to gather up and bundle all excess paper trimmings to be re-made into new paper pulp. Working in the printing industry has made Mary a real defender of trees. “Every harvested tree deserves to go towards something that really matters,” said Mary. She was proud her facility printed the packaging for 21 million COVID-19 test kits during the height of the pandemic.
A month later, when it was time for Mary and I to review the issue’s print proofs, she admitted she had already read a few articles. “I think a tree might be content to learn it was turned into this magazine,” she told me. She shared how one of the essays by a transgender sister impacted her heavily. Words printed on a page turned into a desire to give someone she’d never met a comforting hug. We agreed we were thankful to the trees whose sacrifice allowed us to build community and create a safe landing space in Exponent II.
We were thankful to the trees whose sacrifice allowed us to build community and create a safe landing space in Exponent II.
Although this issue is open-themed, the editorial team loved seeing organic themes emerge through the submissions. As the writing and art engage each other, we saw a clear thread about connection — particularly through the lens of generations.
As El Call examines precedent and revelation in priesthood ordination, Katie Ludlow Rich illuminates what genuine connection and service looks like in the life of Sue Szwahlen, the first woman (and LDS) mayor of Modesto, California. Artist Kathryn Ivy Reese talks about the Behold You Belong Movement and directly invites others into their inclusive, artistic collaboration.
Along with the book reviews and the stunning array of poems, the personal essays also speak to connection. Allison Pingree’s piece envisions a world where her husband is not struggling with Alzheimer’s disease while JosieAnna Peterson creates a powerful tribute to her late cousin.
Without prompting, we also had moving submissions addressed to the generations to come. L.E.R. writes a brave letter to her daughter about the realities of postpartum depression, Lauren Toiaivao Bost discusses parenting styles amid faith transitions, and Trang Thach Hickman advises her two children about what it is like to live “between two worlds” as a Vietnamese refugee living the life she has now. Janalie C. Bingham Joseph reflects on her life as a working mother and Alma Frances Pellett shares her experience witnessing her son’s ordination. Many of these relationships and experiences are under construction, similar to what Kimberly Applewhite Teitter explores in her essay on faith and Carol Lynn Pearson’s portrayal of the Holy Weeks we undertake in our own lives.
After I signed off on the print proofs to send another issue of Exponent II officially to print, Mary asked me if I knew I was part of a community “defining a new generation of Mormon thought leaders.” As the eight-year Layout Editor who has typeset more than 25 issues, sometimes I get caught up in a poem or artist statement and the magnitude of what I’m a part of silences me, similar to spotting spring’s first blossoming cherry tree. But mostly I feel a lot like a midwife myself . . . head down and focused on an important task at hand, birthing a new life.
(Photo by wyman H on Unsplash)
