Why I left the Mormon Church

I recently had my name "officially" removed from Mormon records. It was surprisingly easy given that the moment I decided to leave ten years ago was probably the very hardest decision I've made in my life.

I wasn't Mormon growing up just because my family was, or they forced me, or it was expected or any of that...yes, I grew up in Utah, and almost every friend and person I knew was Mormon, but my dad wasn't, so I always had a good balance and knew the other side of things. Of course life was easier being Mormon in Logan Utah in the late 80's and early 90's, but for me in some ways it was a sacrifice. The day I married Dave in the temple while my parents sat outside was nearly unbearable...but I did it, because I believed. I sacrificed a lot for the Church, but this is why I left... in a nutshell:

I was 29 years old with two kids when we moved to Georgia after being born and raised in Utah my entire life. For the first time I was surrounded by people who weren't Mormon, didn't care if you were Mormon, and really didn't know what Mormon even was. Every day after playgroups, library story time, park outings, etc. with other moms around, I would silently think, "How in the world are they such good moms when they aren't Mormon????" and then one day, I realized how extremely crazy it was that I actually had been asking myself that. I was brainwashed. I really didn't think you could possibly be a great mom, raise great kids, be a great wife, without being Mormon. Then I realized my thinking was totally weird, naive, and esoteric. And I wondered what else was. So I started reading. I started searching, and I started praying.

And then one night I was reading a darling little Christmas Story book to my baby girls. It had a bean bag Joseph, Mary, and Baby Jesus and I had picked it up and one of the many Christian bookstores found in Atlanta. As I was reading it, I realized that I had been taught about a different Jesus than Christians. It was so clear that night as I read about immaculate conception and the main Christian view on Jesus, God, and the Trinity in general. And then I just knew.  I knew that everything I had been taught was wrong. It had nothing to do about people, experiences, or anything, it was doctrine; and it was false.

So, I tucked my girls in and went downstairs and burst into tears to Dave. I felt like my world came crashing down. Everything I believed, everything I was, everything I had given up, and everything that I had guided my future by was false. When I pulled myself together, Dave looked at me and said, "Chaun, I know."

Unbeknownst to me, Dave had been spending his evenings researching and reading too. He read about Joseph Smith and how many wives he really did have, including other men's wives and 14 year olds. He read about the Egyptian Papyri funeral texts and how Joe Smith canonized it as scripture as the "Pearl of Great Price."  There was so much more than this, but the truth was out there, and we were ready to listen and to finally, finally figure it out for ourselves.

So this is why I left, or at least the beginning. I still had to take off my garments, tell my family, learn how to be a wife and mother and human being without the Church, but I was free of it and the lies, cover-ups, and weirdness of it all.

So let's talk about weird, and all the things that I did and put up with because I just KNEW I was supposed to:

• Age 8, getting baptized by my home teacher, and really having no idea what I was agreeing to at such a young age.
• Age 10, asking my Sunday School Teacher what would happen to me whey I die since my family hasn't gone through the temple and having her answer that they would find me a new family in heaven.
• Age 8-18, Having nearly every family in Logan, Utah who knew us judge my dad (and some of them refusing to let us play with their kids) for wearing short shorts, hair too long with a bandana holding it back, huffing buds, and mowing the lawn every Sunday right next-door to the church that the rest of his family was going to and he supported.
• Age 16, having some 'friends' break into my house while we were gone for Thanksgiving and drinking and partying in my house and then having the parents blame my dad for having alcohol in there or they wouldn't have done it.
• High School, Often sitting by myself in Sacrament Meeting or joining Lisa's family who tried hard to include but it wasn't the same as sitting with your own family.
• Watching women not be able to hold most high callings, preside over meetings (including Girls Camp), not bless sacrament, or bless their own children, to name a few.
• Dixie College, paying my way through college with no help, no loans, nothing, waiting tables at Golden Corral and working my tail off, but coming home after every shift and taking the bills out of my apron and faithfully putting 10% in a little chest and then paying it to the church as tithing EVERY. SINGLE. MONTH.
• University of Utah, Sitting in a room alone with 4-5 grown men asking me about my sexual transgressions. In detail. Including whether or not I gave or received oral sex and if I enjoyed it and how much (just to name one of the many things that went down in that interview). I look back now and I am horrified, and I would probably kill someone who did that to one of my daughters, but I just knew if I didn't confess I wouldn't get that damn recommend.
• Going to the temple and getting partially naked with a "shield" over some of me while an elderly lady touched parts of my body, blessing and saying prayers, including saying something about blessing my loins and then a threat if I divulged anything told (or something like that but I was traumatized and don't remember exactly what they say during that endowment session back then).
• Getting married without my parents or any of my 3 siblings with me because they weren't worthy.
• Getting a new name in the temple and then find out that Dave needs to know my name so I can get through the veil or whatever but his name is TOP SECRET and he could not divulge it to me under any circumstances.

So this is just the stuff that I followed blindly. I'll never forget Dave's mom, who is very Mormon, pulling me aside before the temple and taking me in her room and showing me the leafy apron and weird-ass hats and stuff, and she just said, "I just want you to see this so you aren't totally shocked when you go in the temple. People don't just wear white dresses, and it can be a little scary and overwhelming even though it's your special day." She wasn't supposed to show any of that "sacred" AKA "secret" stuff, but she did, and I love her for it. But I followed it all because I thought I was doing what was right.

Fast forward to what I know today...I have no ill thoughts toward my upbringing or people who are Mormon. I just really don't understand how any educated person who reads, prays, and truly searches can ever stay in the Mormon Church, but then I remember the Mormon Culture in Utah, especially for moms with young kids, and it's easier to just stay, and pretend. And I thank God every day that I got out of Utah because I'm really afraid I wouldn't have left. I would have pretended. I would still be Relief Society President or one of the other YW callings I had, but deep down knowing that it's really all bull shit, and Joe Smith was actually one crazy dude. I'm so curious what the current prophet today thought when he went into that "holiest of holy rooms" or whatever it's called, and nothing happened. Because as much as I bore my testimony that "I KNOW this church is true" back in the day, I can promise you with all I have and know, that it's not. It teaches some decent family values, goal setting, work ethic, and I'm choosing to take the good but leave the crazy behind. And I would NEVER, EVER, EVERY raise a daughter in such a male dominated church. So when the recent ward directory was published here in Indian Land, SC, I had a friend call to tell me that Dave, and my girls (who have NEVER been baptized) are in there. But I'm not. So thank God for quitmormon.org, and although Dave hasn't officially left, we are working hard to get our girls names out of there (if for anything other than the fact that the ARE NOT Mormon, never have been, and I would never make that decision for them or allow the to do so before they truly understand), but I'm actually relieved from the burden of this church and the falseness of it all.

It's been years since I've blogged, and no one reads this anymore, but I need an outlet to express myself and my posterity that won't be judged, "liked," or whatever...so here I go again.

I'm passionate about kids. All kids. And until every kid has access to the same education, aspirations, and people believing in them in the same way, things aren't equal in this world.

And maybe equality is not what we should strive for. Maybe it should be EQUITY, which is the quality of being fair and impartial. Equality is treating everyone the same. Equity is taking differences into account so everyone has a chance to succeed.  The first one sounds fair, the second one IS fair. Kids are born into all different situations, but every kid born has the same potential but not the same privilege. Until those of us born with privilege recognize it and then realize our accomplishments are at least partially because of that, nothing will change.

I find it interesting that we make accommodations for special needs, but we need to make accommodations for kids who didn't have the same privilege as others. Most of it is race. Being born and raised in Utah, I had very little exposure to people from different cultures, and people of different races. I had no idea. Racism isn't just about race, it's about power and who has access to it. Systems have been in place for so many years that hold people back.

I can't imagine what it would be like to worry that my girls will be followed by security in a store, walk down the street and be worried about police assuming they are up to no good, having nearly every Barbie, baby doll, and princess not reflect their skin color, and listening and seeing leaders and teachers who are predominantly not of their skin color.

And can we talk about dance?  Having tights and shoes that don't match skin color, having very few dance role models who look like them (Although I am endlessly grateful for the two teachers I have who are two of the greatest people I've met in all my life, but also grateful they are someone ALL kids but especially kids of color can aspire to), going to a studio that has a few kids their color, but ultimately not reflecting the diversity in the community because not everyone has the background or finances to provide the opportunity of dance.

So that's privilege. I have the privilege because of nothing I did to not have these worries. And I'm pissed about it. But I recognize it, and I will fight for every kid until every kid has access to the same opportunity.

So when Kaepernick kneels during the anthem, I respect it. I am passionately patriotic, but his call to equity and just people SEEING what is happening is something I support whole-heartedly.  So I'll keep doing my thing but hopefully doing it better and better because every kid deserves the same opportunities. And I'll keep learning and learning because I was sheltered for much of my life living in a world where the most diversity I got was the non-Mormon kids who suffered in a 97% Mormon school. It doesn't come close to the kids I see now born with the exact same potential but not the same opportunities.

Teachers

Soooo.... I hate to neglect my blog for oh, so long, and then come back with THIS....but sometimes, a girl had to ramble...

I loved teaching.  I love inspiring kids.  I loved showing kids something they never understood and then watching that 'ah-ha' moment once I explained it (after seventeen tries in seven different ways).  I love reaching that kid...that ONE kid that just couldn't be reached by anyone else.  As a matter of fact, let me interject here with an essay from a former 9th grade student:

 "My favorite teacher I ever had is Mrs. Marsh.  She was one of the few teachers that actually cared about kids' grades.  She was very concerned that some other kids and I were getting bad grades so early in the year.  She took us out in the hall and gave us a talk about how we can bring our grades up, and by this time I was being a pain in the butt and not listening to her talk because I really didn't care.

"Later on I skipped school with my friend, and Mrs. Marsh got really mad and none of my other teachers even talked to me about it or even noticed that I missed; that showed me that she gave a crap about me.  Later on she got it through my thick skull that school is very important and so studied for my next test as hard as I could.  I got one of the highest scores in my class.  Now ever since that happened I have been trying as hard as I can to get better grades in English and all my other classes.  That is why I think of Mrs. Marsh as my most memorable teacher."

So, ten (plus) years later, I'm sitting here on the side of the MOM with a kid in school that isn't really a perfect fit in the cookie cutter mold that we (as teachers) would like them to be.  I NEVER thought I would be on this side.  I loved school.  I was "good" at school.  I graduated summa cum laude from the University of Utah and kind of eased my way through.  But I happen to have this (pretty fabulous) daughter who doesn't fit the mold.  She's probably kind of hard to teach....never for behavior, but just for academic, and understanding.  And fourth grade has hit us.  We (thought we) were blessed with TWO teachers in fourth grade (so one HAS to be good right?), but (NO!) cursed with both teachers who see only INSIDE the box.  But guess what?  There are fabulous minds that think outside of the box. 

Dave and I sat in an hour and a half conference yesterday and listened to them go on and on about standardized test scores and such, and how every other teacher had just inflated her grades so she was actually doing bad all along, but those teachers just inflated her grades to pretend she wasn't.  However, I think they forgot that THIS mom had spent some time in the school and watched teachers from Mrs. Hardin (bringing in every parent in whatever career just in case any kid in her class hadn't been exposed to it and might actually like to learn more about it) to Mrs. Parker (finding a book for EVERY SINGLE KID that he/she would LIKE to read and learn about), to Ms. Crimminger who instead of just learning the states had them try foods from every state so they would never forget...(King Cake from Louisiana, anyone?  How about pickles with ice cream?)  To Ms. Eichorn in third grade who made cookies in the shape of South Carolina to learn climates, mountain ranges, rivers. lakes, and counties. 

So this year my kid (my artistic, hands-on, visual learner) gets stuck with the two teachers that do every. single. thing.  straight. from. the. book.  BUT WAIT, "we do flash cards" (straight.from.the.book).  BUT WAIT, "we do note taking" (straight.from.the.book.)  Well, guess what?  You have now missed every kid in your class who just plain doesn't learn that way.  And you can spin it however you like....the other teachers were just "INFLATING" their grades, but guess what?  They were just teaching to different learning styles.  And (gasp!) using differing test taking strategies.

I have felt very strongly that if you don't have the PASSION, then you shouldn't be a teacher.  So, I had this incredible passion as a teacher, and I was good.  I gave it everything I had.  But after I had my own kids, I lost my passion.  AND THAT'S WHY I DON'T TEACH SCHOOL ANYMORE.  Because if you aren't willing to reach them all, then you should do something else. 

Don't blame it on other teachers who are willing to go outside the box to reach the kids that are also out there.  Because, now as a mom, and as a former teacher, I KNOW where you are coming from, and I am counting my blessings for that one good teacher out of FOUR that we have this year.  And I'm really grateful that as hard (and yes, as annoying as it sometimes was) that I went outside the box to get the kids that were out there.  Because, they are fabulous kids.  And they ARE worth it.

Yesterday's Adventure

I ran out of gas yesterday on the side of a highway about 50 feet from a gas station.  It was quite the adventure to cross the highway with the girls and figure it out.  I guess when the gas gauge stops counting miles left and just says "low fuel" you really do need to fill up.  It was quite an adventure.

On another note....yesterday a guy came to look at why the master shower is leaking a little.  So, after he looked, he came downstairs and said, "Ma-am, that wah-ter is a-spillin' over the lip of the base and I reckon I done figure out the prob-lem, but I need some tow-els.  Do ya-all think ya-all have some tow-els?"  I was like, "Oh, sure!  Follow me."  So we went into the laundry room and I handed him some rolled up towels that we keep in there for swim team.  He was kind of confused and then said, "Ma-am, tow-els, not tow-els."  And I was like, "Towels???"  And he said, "Ya know?  Tow-els?  Like maybe there are matching ones in the attic with the paint that the builders left?"  Me: "OH, TILES!!!!!"  Him: "Yes!  Tow-els!!!!"

I've lived in the South for almost ten years, and I still get confused sometimes.

The Hank Effect

Hank's sad eyes.  He's never really sad though; I think he just wanted a treat.

So, I haven't always been the world's biggest dog fan.  I was kind of afraid of them as a kid, and then just never really loved them.  Then this thing happened...his name is HANK.  Well, actually there were these two kids who happen to belong to me who are head over heels in LOVE with dogs, and with no more babies on the way (ever) and two kids old enough to help with a dog, Dave and I decided to adopt one.  That's when we found THE ONE.

He was a rescue mutt.  He is part everything and might be the sweetest thing ever.  I mean, he's super annoying; he jumps up on people, has two totally different ears, runs sideways, attacks the door at the slightest knock, digs holes in the backyard and jumps in our pond, BUT I love him.

So, now for the Hank Effect....  I find myself judging (yes, judging, I will admit) every person who comes in my house by how they treat my dog.  He barks initially and is absolutely annoying, but he just wants you to say hi, pet him a little and that's it.  I love when people get that.  So, when the dude came today to fix something and he said, "You need to keep your dog away while I work."  I was instantly skeptical of him.  I'll admit.  Even my kids were like, "Mom, that guy is weird."

I had a friend come over recently who didn't even say hi to me and instead knelt on the floor and started petting Hank, and I was like, "I like her...she's one awesome gal."  So, there you have it. 

It makes me wonder what people thought of me all these years that I've walked into houses and never even greeted their dog.  I kind of hope they were judging me with the same Hank Effect that I use, because I deserved it.

And when Amelia got home from the tonsil stuff, this is who she wanted to hang out with...in his bed. 

Sweet Girl

I just walked in Amelia's room (it's about 7:30 a.m. on Friday) and Amelia was just quietly laying there.  I went and layed down by her and asked her what she was thinking about.  She said, "I was just talking to Grandma."  I asked her what she was talking about and she said, "Oh, I had two questions for her.  What is her house made of?  Like is it chocolate? and I was wondering if she wanted to come get her nails done with me and Olivia today."

Drama Camp

I've spent a busy week before school starts Monday teaching drama camp to 4-12 year olds.  Since that is a HUGE age difference, I try to enlighten the older kids in the group while keeping the 4 year olds from getting paint on the walls while running around the room backwards.  So, I happened to mention famous poets and playwrites of all time to all three of them that I THOUGHT were listening.  However, I found out last night, that maybe more of them are HEARING, but not quite UNDERSTANDING this former 9th grade drama teacher. 

This was the conversation that happened on the way to gymnastics last night:

Mikayla:  So Mom, who is this Jake Spears?
Me: Jake Spears, what in the world are you talking about?
Mikayla: You know, Jake Spears, that you talked about in drama.
Me: SHAKESPEARE????
Mikayla: Yes, Jake Spears.
Amelia: Mikayla, Mom was talking about Jake Spears, who is Brittney Spears brother.
Me: GIRLS, I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYONE NAMED JAKE SPEARES, WHO IS NOT EVEN A REAL PERSON.  I'M TALKING ABOUT SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.  (I then proceeded with a lengthy lesson on the fabulousness of Shakespeare from the front seat of my car that I won't bore you with here and probably went right over my girls' heads, but it ended with a synopsis of Romeo and Juliet.)
Amelia: I get it!!!  So this Shake Speares is friends with Taylor Swift and they write about Romeo and Juliet together.

I give up....

Wish me luck teaching drama camp tomorrow!!!!