Study for Obedience

by Sarah Bernstein

I had stood in these groupings myself, listened as my most cherished, my most dearly held, most intimate thoughts were articulated by a distant relative or one-time acquaintance, usually to a total stranger, and we all laughed together. How we laughed. It was part of my training, I understood that now, my uncommon pride and self-love which needed to bend, needed to be subdued, and it was of some comfort to me to see that there were others who faltered similarly, who needed the guiding hand of semi-public shame. I understood this even then as part of the process of community formation, of the operations of power and the delegation of roles, who and what lay beyond describing the outlines of whatever lay within. It was the late twentieth century. What did we have left? A prayer book, some scraps of song, a history lesson beginning with devastation.