So to continue
The Preside Question –
Women in The Church are praised and generally thought of as being the more capable and spiritual sex, so the funny situation remains why, when there is this amazing resource of thought, insight and capacity are we not situated in callings and roles (ie: Leadership positions) where we can affect the most good?
As a secondary idea a gent from my ward gave a paper at the conference essentially stating the Silent(ced) Heavenly Mother roll/dynamic is a source and platform for male dominance in the Church.
All of my thoughts on this, I’ve realized, come from how, where, and with whom I grew up. I don’t know why but even being the only girl among boys (yet another aspect to my Other complex) I never once felt dominated. I don’t know if it’s just because of the metal that I’m made out of but it’s never once entered my brain.
To inform you better on my conclusions let me introduce you to the Men that I grew up with:
My Father:
convert to the church
Attended West Point
Married my mother at 21
Had is JD from J. Ruben Clark, worked full time, passed the Bar in two states on the first try, and had 3 kids by the time he was 30
When he and my mother were dating she realized that he was essentially a comic book geek that lived with his Grandma but had a good heart. One date she gave him a stack of books including Tolkein and CS Lewis and said “If we’re going to keep seeing each other you need to read these. We’re going to need something to talk about.” He did. He one upped her and enrolled in an Art History course as well. He married her and has forever counted himself blessed.
My Brothers:
There are 3, 2 younger one older. All of them are more intelligent than is probably good for them. Their minds never stop working. They’re all as big as buildings and have testosterone levels that could choke a bull at 50 paces. They’re also conversationalists, they were brought up by my hyper verbal mother. They’re all hilarious and socially literate. They were deeply affected by my Grandma Child as well. They have Southern manners and sensibilities. They open doors, carry luggage, scoot out chairs and do the dishes not because the women were too weak to do so, but because that’s how they show respect for us. They talk and talk and talk about everything. They have the capacity to articulate thought and angst and every so often their feelings. They know who Fellini and Chaucer are but they’re also what I lovingly refer to as Mountain Men. Scouting is a psudo-religion to them. They make jerky and carry knives and tie Australian mystery knots and know ju jitzu and read the tides and the stars and all that. They’re bulldogs of the best kind. Whenever I’m dating someone it’s a considerable effort to keep them at bay but when I ask something of them they do it even if they don’t like it. I don’t ask often because I know whatever I ask for they won’t stop until its done so when I *do* ask they know I mean it.
My cousins:
Everything I just said about my brothers but throw in even more charm, a bit more red hair and there you go. They’re essentially my brothers too.
Those are my best friends in the whole world in a nutshell.
I’ve already outlined the gents that I was surrounded with in the ward I grew up in and I could go on about my uncles (one bow hunts for fun) and the elders in my mission (there were many more like Elder Hughes) and my ex boyfriends. Those are better left alone actually…
But like I said, this is my sense of normal. These are not boys. These are Men. My mother raised my brothers to be Men. I would assert that the only way for relationships between men and women to work is if the men are Men and if the women are Women. Squabbles between grown boys and girls are responsible for about 99% of the dysfunction in this area, in my opinion.
I think that men can’t be Men unless they associate with women who are Women. I think the rolls are symbiotic, complementary, and inseparable. Likewise I don’t believe women can be proper Women without proper Men. My feminist compadres might grill me for that but it’s what I think. I credit a good portion of the confidence, poise, and intelligence I have to the influence of amazing Women obviously, but also to the Men in my life. They expected little else of me. That along with the respect they have for me and the safe places they provide for me to grow and learn have all been key to my success and development.
Men are called to preside in marriages, meetings, families and the Church in general. I don’t have a problem with that because I have always felt in capable hands. Also, like I said before, my take on things as a missionary hasn't changed much since I've been home. I like being free to do what I need to do and what I feel called to do and that is be on the ground talking, helping and loving people. Like the rest of the conscious world I work better when my mind is free of distraction. I’m a capable decision maker and don’t shy away from leadership opportunities but I breathe a little easier when I'm not in one. When I have been called to leadership rolls I have felt a double load. One to keep up the pace I want with The Work and two, the administration thereof. I think it shows great insight on the Lord’s part that His greatest resource (the Women) are completely free and at liberty to do the most good in the places He needs it done. We are mobile, capable, and powerful. Why wouldn’t you want that kind of person at the front of your efforts?
I know there are a large amount of douche bags that don’t get this and say its a woman’s job to shut up, make things pretty, and just essentially be a pretty thing. I would direct him to DC 121 and say men’s job is to keep themselves from being assholes and wish them luck at finding their amend Priesthood. And I have once. Or twice…
I think that kind of ignorance comes from simply not knowing yourself or being too lazy to try to do so. Not understanding yourself as a Man or a Woman is a cantankerous state and is further complicated by being ignorant as to how they fit together. No pun intended even though it is funny and odds are if a gent is of that temperament he probably has no clue about that either.
I have chosen not to be jaded by said sad individuals who I lovingly refer to as "works in progress". I choose to see and believe in the better parts of people. Men become Men as women become Women, they aren’t born that way. This means that there is a long and sometimes painful learning curve. It’s a tall order to be a Man. Men know how to listen. Men are honorable. Men are consistent and patient. Men understand that their strength is fleeting and dependent on the people around them. Men are grateful. Men communicate differently. They express love differently. Their greatest happiness is to make the Women in their lives happy. Women find their greatest happiness by being adored (meaning respected, listened to, and loved) and safe. Men let themselves openly adore their Women. They work to protect them. That is their basic primal and spiritual programming. What better way to play to the eternal identity of His sons and provide for His Daughters than for The Lord to give Men the Priesthood which only exists or has potency when it is engaged in the service others? It makes perfect sense to me.
So I would assert, in turn, that Women should let themselves be protected and provided for. Just as Men make space for us we need to make space for them. It’s never an issue that we couldn’t do that for ourselves, it’s the fact that we understand that that’s how Men communicate and show love and so we should let ourselves be loved. We have a hard time with this but that’s a whole different post.
Example:
I went hiking on Saturday. A few of us set out and I went up with my friend who is a Marine. A gun toting, battle scarred, eating snakes in the wilderness Marine. He is one of my best friend’s brothers and I’ve known him for forever. We’re pretty tight. We had to leave early and go back to the car and were hiking this really mellow trail with a lot of people on it. Threat level from people, flora, and fauna was somewhere between Chuck E. Cheese and the McDonald’s PlayPlace. However, whenever we passed someone on the trail he would get in front of me and stare down whoever was passing even if they were a girl scout troop. True story. Did he do this just to be dominant? No. He was protecting me. Even though I felt I didn’t need protection, he was doing his job. Did I take umbrage at him walking in front of me? No. Its actually something I expect from whomever I'm with. It's what my brothers would do. It's what my dad would do. It’s what I think any Man would do.
Also, I don’t see things the way some people might. To me, The Church is a construct. It’s a vessel constructed of doctrinal principles to carry us where we need to go. The ship isn’t the issue, it’s where we’re going and how well we're sailing it. We have to sail the ship and if it’s sailing poorly it’s not the ship’s fault, it’s the sailors. I think laziness is one of our greatest enemies. The more we exercise it the sooner it’s best friend selfishness pops around the corner and THEN the ropes pop up, the gloves come on and the bell rings and the only way it ends is with a broken heart or a hospital trip. Or both.
I say all of this as someone who has had a long road to Womanhood. I used to be a feisty over zealous scrappy Feminist. As a teenager I took issue with almost every little thing. Like why Primary, YW and Relief Society were called “Axillaries”. I found it diminutive and wrong. Polygamy was almost a deal breaker for me. It was a serious struggle for a long long long time. It took my mission to talk me down off of that ledge. Secular wise, I was totally convinced that I had the faculties to make my way in the world on my terms and didn’t have to answer to anyone. I was hungry for a career. Marriage and family would be nice but they weren't at the top of my list. The longer I spent in the work force, the longer I was on my own, the more I honestly pondered what I saw in the temple and my life, the more I let go of all that pride (cause that’s what it is – that umbrage is pride) and the more things clarified for me. I surprised myself one day realizing that I was an educated woman, a successful woman, that found myself wanting nothing more than simple domesticity. I'd like to make baby clothes and have a garden and reenact Where The Wild Thing Are to my hearts content. I don’t feel tamed by it all or that I’ve compromised or diluted. I just feel enlightened. However, I think that if I hadn’t been allowed to carve my own path and just jumped into marriage at 19 (like I almost did) I would have spitefully resented a lot of things and been a very different person.
I realize that a lot, if not all, of this is crazy and disjointed and I apologize if its fuzzy. I desperately hope that I've addressed something cogent. In summary, yes men have the Priesthood and Preside in the church but I assert that this is a good thing, a necessary thing. I think as a Feminist we got the good end of the bargain. When I say preside I define in two main components. One – in an administrative sense they take care of the running of The Church. This is a blessing because we as women, in turn, are free to do the hardest and most rewarding part of the Lord’s Work without out distraction or dilution of our faculties or energies.
Secondly I take it to mean protect, make, and keep sacred spaces and people so that growth can happen. The Priesthood has many other rolls in men's lives. It teaches accountability, charity and love in a way that men will learn but I only say and know this as an echo of my brother's voices. I have no experience to back that up.
However, progress – it's the real and material point isn't it? All of this hubbabaloo is working towards that. It’s the Lord’s bottom line. This is His ship so its our bottom line too. Men and Women alike are expected to come home better than they let, not fighting about who walks in the door first a they arrive.
Trying to define and see things like gender rolls and the construct of The Church through academic or historical eyes and ascertaining a divine agenda from it seems a little short sighted to me. Like 2D comic book short sighted. God's constructs are designed according to His norms. Judging them by man's measure seems fruitless. It comes across as trying to use a yard stick to measure the temperature of the sun. We're supposed to elevate our thinking to His not insist that He come down to ours. There are powers and works in play that it will take us a lifetime to understand and appreciate and I’m just glad that I do know what I do and that I’m at liberty to love what I do and am very confident and content with where and how I’m doing it.
The End
Showing posts with label Gospel According to Liz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gospel According to Liz. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Neck High in Familiar Waters Pt III
The next thing that I want to address is the relationship between men women.
Within in the context of Heavenly Mother the question was raised at the conference if her silent roll is a platform in which male dominance takes root in the construct of Church hierarchy and within marital rolls. The issue of women being the purported more capable and spiritual sex yet being kept from positions and callings in the church that they could affect the most good was raised as well.
In Kate Holbrook’s paper she brought up the concept of “bishopric” and proposed the idea of taking the term from a noun to an adjective thereby making it accessible to everyone. Like by finding a way to truly do good you are finding your personal bishopric and not limiting yourself to what you think is your conventional roll. She sited a few opportunities that she has had to be a female voice of council to formal Bishoprics (as in governing bodies in a ward) as well as of women that have carved out their own.
Both of these concepts exist in very similar spaces in my brain and there was something I wanted to say when we were discussing Kate Holbrook’s paper that I didn’t get a chance to. The discussion at the time was surrounding the plausibility of reconstructing Bishoprics to include a female voice and Mary clarified that that wasn’t her assertion at all and that she didn’t want to get excommunicated. I gathered that she was just trying to clarify her meaning. I got when she was presenting and got lost in my head about similar experiences I’ve had a female voice of council to leaders which I’ll get to later.
This exchange saddened me because 1) the person that was feeling strongly about reconstruction must have cause. Meaning they must have had one or a number of Priesthood holders or Bishoprics that didn’t understand their calling and abused their position. I was talking to my dad about the conference and this topic this morning. Watching my dad assimilate information is fascinating. He will listen to a room full of people discussing ideas and be totally silent. Then he’ll sit and you can practically see him classifying, sorting and considering information through all his lawyer filters in his brain and then he’ll come back to you with one sentence or thought that makes it all make sense. His thought on all this was “Well they (meaning Bishoprics/husbands) don’t understand the scriptures then. They need to read DC 121” I agree with him. 2) because of this angst they (meaning people arguing about reconstruction), and probably a lot of other people, are missing the mark.
This is the comment that I wanted to make – power dynamics is a sexy fun topic. Insomuch that it painfully seduces and distracts from the real issues at hand. Women and men arguing over bishopric assignments and titles are wasting precious time and energy. The point is (and this is the welfare missionary in me talking) there is a lot of work to do! like, A LOT. There are a lot of people that need real help and they need it right now. Testimonies are failing, children are hungry and people are scared. Sitting in an office or classroom sparing about who is in charge doesn’t help ANY of that. Also, this is The Lord's work, not our own. We get the opportunity to have a part but those people in need are His first and last thought and I would assert they should be ours as well.
We all have a called Bishop and if he is a good Bishop (if he understands the scriptures as my dad says) then his first and last concern is everyone outside the office, not inside and I would optimistically assert that a Bishopric true to their calling would love and welcome any earnest voice and pair of hands that is looking for their own personal bishopric to use Kate’s term. Kate’s voice was probably welcomed on the Bishoprics she served on because she earnestly wanted to do some good. The job of a Bishopric is almost overwhelming. I think it would be silly to assume that they would refuse an honest intent to help. If someone was approaching them (male and female) alike with a “desire to help” but they really just want to is a chair in a meeting and to feel in power then it’s no wonder that they, the Bishopric, would delicately decline. The Spirit has a way of giving those mal-intended types a certain odor and, speaking as a former leader, you can smell them a mile a way.
When I was a missionary I reveled in the fact that I didn’t have to worry about getting called to leadership. I LOVED the fact that I free to do the work that I came to do without distraction or stress. With my leaders that I was close to I was impolitic to gloat over the fact. I would assert that a real leader is one who is committed to the grass roots effort and nothing else. There was an elder in my mission who I was very close with and learned a lot from. His name was Elder Hughes. He was an English missionary and me a Spanish one but he was a leader of mine from practically my first transfer. He was either my roommates District leader, my Zone leader or my Assistant my entire mission. He was a stand out missionary and that’s why he was trusted with what he was. When my first president was going home he was pulled into the office as an assistant after being in the field for a little more than year. This was unheard of in my mission. He stayed there for 9 months and when he was looking at the end of his mission he begged to be go back into the Field and he did. He came to my zone as a ZL and it was some of the most productive time everyone in my zone had on their mission. He never stopped being committed to his call or was seduced by the allurements of office. I consider him to be a real gem and a great example of true leadership. Someone who understands the scriptures.
We’re building a kingdom here people. Stop arguing over who get a shovel and who gets a wheelbarrow. Just get to work and cut the Adversaries puppet strings yeah?
I think it's this attitude that got me pulled into my mission president's office. I was being the best missionary I could be at the time and being blessed with success. I had mastered my assigned language despite being called to my own country and was looking at finishing strong and free of distractions.
It was then that President asked me to "help him out". The DC South is a fascinating mission. We had a lot of sisters. We weren't the visitor center mission, that was the North mission but we had more sisters in ours. At one point there were 200 missionaries 75 of which were sisters 14 of which were Spanish sisters like myself and 6 of which were Vietnamese sisters like my roommates for my whole mission had been.
President was dealing with a few problem sisters. Ones that he just didn't know what to do with and he had exhausted all his ideas. He called me in to "do what he couldn't do and help him where he couldn't help" so I became what they call a Traveling Sister. I had two principle assignments - one being my comp and the other being my roommate. I flitted about my last transfer helping and juicing up other sisters that needed a booster shot as well. I felt super inadequate to the task. I had been in the best area of the mission for 6 months with the same comp for 6 months who I adored. We had gotten to the point that we didn't really know how to function without each other. All I wanted to do was keep working where I was till they shoved me kicking and screaming on the plane. But there were sisters that President felt that I needed to help so that's what I did. There were some that I dragged kicking and screaming out of the apartment and made them talk to strangers and get to work. There were others I sat down with and said in no uncertain terms that they weren't being missionaries, they were just waiting for their boyfriends in the wrong place and they needed to pray about going home. There were some that we got to the Dr and got them the anti-depressants they needed (that was fun) and they finished well. It was a roller coaster of a transfer, I'm not going to lie.
The strangest part wasn't getting ready to go home, it was being an extension of the office for the first time as a missionary. To talk to my mission President like an equal and not missionary to President. I spent a lot more time with him and his wife and staff than I ever thought I would because all I ever thought or wanted to be was a missionary. The sisters I worked with changed me and I hope that I changed them. Some shaped up and some didn't, some finished, some went home early. It was all a cluster but a didactic one. I think President had a more functional mission because he had to good sense to see and address the needs of his sisters and I for a brief moment felt a part of council. Sitting in on meetings with the Assistants and President was something else. I felt at home though. I spoke their language strangely. I credit this to my upbringing as well
Which leads me to the second half of this set of ideas - the supposed Silent(ced) Heavenly Mother and the Priesthood Preside/domination platform. More on that tomorrow...
Within in the context of Heavenly Mother the question was raised at the conference if her silent roll is a platform in which male dominance takes root in the construct of Church hierarchy and within marital rolls. The issue of women being the purported more capable and spiritual sex yet being kept from positions and callings in the church that they could affect the most good was raised as well.
In Kate Holbrook’s paper she brought up the concept of “bishopric” and proposed the idea of taking the term from a noun to an adjective thereby making it accessible to everyone. Like by finding a way to truly do good you are finding your personal bishopric and not limiting yourself to what you think is your conventional roll. She sited a few opportunities that she has had to be a female voice of council to formal Bishoprics (as in governing bodies in a ward) as well as of women that have carved out their own.
Both of these concepts exist in very similar spaces in my brain and there was something I wanted to say when we were discussing Kate Holbrook’s paper that I didn’t get a chance to. The discussion at the time was surrounding the plausibility of reconstructing Bishoprics to include a female voice and Mary clarified that that wasn’t her assertion at all and that she didn’t want to get excommunicated. I gathered that she was just trying to clarify her meaning. I got when she was presenting and got lost in my head about similar experiences I’ve had a female voice of council to leaders which I’ll get to later.
This exchange saddened me because 1) the person that was feeling strongly about reconstruction must have cause. Meaning they must have had one or a number of Priesthood holders or Bishoprics that didn’t understand their calling and abused their position. I was talking to my dad about the conference and this topic this morning. Watching my dad assimilate information is fascinating. He will listen to a room full of people discussing ideas and be totally silent. Then he’ll sit and you can practically see him classifying, sorting and considering information through all his lawyer filters in his brain and then he’ll come back to you with one sentence or thought that makes it all make sense. His thought on all this was “Well they (meaning Bishoprics/husbands) don’t understand the scriptures then. They need to read DC 121” I agree with him. 2) because of this angst they (meaning people arguing about reconstruction), and probably a lot of other people, are missing the mark.
This is the comment that I wanted to make – power dynamics is a sexy fun topic. Insomuch that it painfully seduces and distracts from the real issues at hand. Women and men arguing over bishopric assignments and titles are wasting precious time and energy. The point is (and this is the welfare missionary in me talking) there is a lot of work to do! like, A LOT. There are a lot of people that need real help and they need it right now. Testimonies are failing, children are hungry and people are scared. Sitting in an office or classroom sparing about who is in charge doesn’t help ANY of that. Also, this is The Lord's work, not our own. We get the opportunity to have a part but those people in need are His first and last thought and I would assert they should be ours as well.
We all have a called Bishop and if he is a good Bishop (if he understands the scriptures as my dad says) then his first and last concern is everyone outside the office, not inside and I would optimistically assert that a Bishopric true to their calling would love and welcome any earnest voice and pair of hands that is looking for their own personal bishopric to use Kate’s term. Kate’s voice was probably welcomed on the Bishoprics she served on because she earnestly wanted to do some good. The job of a Bishopric is almost overwhelming. I think it would be silly to assume that they would refuse an honest intent to help. If someone was approaching them (male and female) alike with a “desire to help” but they really just want to is a chair in a meeting and to feel in power then it’s no wonder that they, the Bishopric, would delicately decline. The Spirit has a way of giving those mal-intended types a certain odor and, speaking as a former leader, you can smell them a mile a way.
When I was a missionary I reveled in the fact that I didn’t have to worry about getting called to leadership. I LOVED the fact that I free to do the work that I came to do without distraction or stress. With my leaders that I was close to I was impolitic to gloat over the fact. I would assert that a real leader is one who is committed to the grass roots effort and nothing else. There was an elder in my mission who I was very close with and learned a lot from. His name was Elder Hughes. He was an English missionary and me a Spanish one but he was a leader of mine from practically my first transfer. He was either my roommates District leader, my Zone leader or my Assistant my entire mission. He was a stand out missionary and that’s why he was trusted with what he was. When my first president was going home he was pulled into the office as an assistant after being in the field for a little more than year. This was unheard of in my mission. He stayed there for 9 months and when he was looking at the end of his mission he begged to be go back into the Field and he did. He came to my zone as a ZL and it was some of the most productive time everyone in my zone had on their mission. He never stopped being committed to his call or was seduced by the allurements of office. I consider him to be a real gem and a great example of true leadership. Someone who understands the scriptures.
We’re building a kingdom here people. Stop arguing over who get a shovel and who gets a wheelbarrow. Just get to work and cut the Adversaries puppet strings yeah?
I think it's this attitude that got me pulled into my mission president's office. I was being the best missionary I could be at the time and being blessed with success. I had mastered my assigned language despite being called to my own country and was looking at finishing strong and free of distractions.
It was then that President asked me to "help him out". The DC South is a fascinating mission. We had a lot of sisters. We weren't the visitor center mission, that was the North mission but we had more sisters in ours. At one point there were 200 missionaries 75 of which were sisters 14 of which were Spanish sisters like myself and 6 of which were Vietnamese sisters like my roommates for my whole mission had been.
President was dealing with a few problem sisters. Ones that he just didn't know what to do with and he had exhausted all his ideas. He called me in to "do what he couldn't do and help him where he couldn't help" so I became what they call a Traveling Sister. I had two principle assignments - one being my comp and the other being my roommate. I flitted about my last transfer helping and juicing up other sisters that needed a booster shot as well. I felt super inadequate to the task. I had been in the best area of the mission for 6 months with the same comp for 6 months who I adored. We had gotten to the point that we didn't really know how to function without each other. All I wanted to do was keep working where I was till they shoved me kicking and screaming on the plane. But there were sisters that President felt that I needed to help so that's what I did. There were some that I dragged kicking and screaming out of the apartment and made them talk to strangers and get to work. There were others I sat down with and said in no uncertain terms that they weren't being missionaries, they were just waiting for their boyfriends in the wrong place and they needed to pray about going home. There were some that we got to the Dr and got them the anti-depressants they needed (that was fun) and they finished well. It was a roller coaster of a transfer, I'm not going to lie.
The strangest part wasn't getting ready to go home, it was being an extension of the office for the first time as a missionary. To talk to my mission President like an equal and not missionary to President. I spent a lot more time with him and his wife and staff than I ever thought I would because all I ever thought or wanted to be was a missionary. The sisters I worked with changed me and I hope that I changed them. Some shaped up and some didn't, some finished, some went home early. It was all a cluster but a didactic one. I think President had a more functional mission because he had to good sense to see and address the needs of his sisters and I for a brief moment felt a part of council. Sitting in on meetings with the Assistants and President was something else. I felt at home though. I spoke their language strangely. I credit this to my upbringing as well
Which leads me to the second half of this set of ideas - the supposed Silent(ced) Heavenly Mother and the Priesthood Preside/domination platform. More on that tomorrow...
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Neck High in Familiar Waters Pt II
Mother in Heaven is a tip toe subject for a lot of people. Not much has been revealed about her. We're told its out of an awed reverence that our Father in Heaven has for Her. We, as a general human population haven't treated the revealed portions of Father in Heaven we've received with much reverence. Thinking what might happen if that was double complicated with a revealed Mother in Heaven might be disastrous.
Here's my thinking. If there is a fast track to anger my father it's to disrespect my mother. There are no second chances or appeals for grounding if us giving mom guff is ever involved. I can't imagine the consequences of that emotional dynamic on a divine level. I sometimes think that its in God's mercy that we don't know much about Her and thus have less of an opportunity to incur the wrath of God. Cities could be obliterated by fireballs from the heavens on a regular basis.
Also, the men of the earth (in general) haven't even received mortal women with the respect they deserve. What makes us think that we're deserving of a Divine knowledge as well? I think that She is entirely available on individual levels, but institutionally its a whole different story. Men can't even judiciously ask women out or stay away from porn. Asking about Mother in Heaven seems very ambitious.
Individually I think She is very much involved. We pray to our Father in Heaven in the name of Jesus Christ and humble and love both of them with everything we have. That's revealed doctrine and commandments.We don't pray to Her but that doesn't mean that we don't have access. I think that that's very closed minded thinking.
At the conference they talked about a number of different personal accounts of women in traumatic or dire situations that have received divine comfort that was distinctly feminine and maternal in nature. They claimed it as a communion with Mother in Heaven but I'm not so sure.
All I have are my personal experiences along that vein. They were just as powerful but of a slightly different savor.
Its about families right? The whole Plan is Families.
I would submit that The Plan is set up in families for many reasons and that those families play a MUCH larger part that we're aware of. My great Grandmother was a sassy, bright, and hard working Southern girl from Baton Rouge, LA. She moved west to find a husband after she joined The Church because Priesthood holders were (and still are) in short supply in the South. She ended up in AZ (she wouldn't go to UT) and lived an amazing and full life. He last husband's surname was Child so she was my Grandma Child. She died when I was very young but she meant the world to me then and now. She was very important to my mother too. She was the warmth, love and disciplinarian you'd expect from a Southern girl and then some. That kind of potency isn't diluted in death and especially if she felt she had work to do, namely "bringing up her Ladies". She never stopped in life and I'm sure she hasn't stopped in death.
Both my mother and I, in moments of deep thought and need have felt her very strongly. She has been intimately involved in both of our lives on the other side of the veil, on a divine mother's errand. My mother has felt her at every birth and for a good while thereafter. She's been to every baby blessing. I'm positive she was with me as I went through the temple. She was a temple worker in the Mesa temple for 15 years till she died.
I had a very distinct experience in the MTC with her. Practically a conversation. The veil is very thin there anyways but there was one day I was going a bit stir crazy and decided to run some stairs in the girl's dorm to get some energy out and grab some time to myself. Mom gave me Grandma Child's wedding ring before I left on my mission to "keep me safe". I know mom was terrified at the idea of me leaving but wouldn't show or say it but there it was, on my right ring finger with me on this work out and all of my fear and insecurity about my calling was coming out during this work out. I was feeling the too big bite I had taken. Tears started to come and right then I felt her. She was there running every step with me and loving me and holding me up and reassuring me and pumping all the positive energy and hope she could through whatever opening I gave her. She hasn't left me since. Sometimes I feel her censure, sometimes her approval, sometimes I practically hear her yelling at whatever boy is trying to talk to me that she doesn't approve of. In whatever is going on she is there.
She is a feminine divine in my life and a conduit into my better parts. I would suggest that that be considered when reflecting on these other women's experiences. Not that I'm accusing anyone of mellow drama, just that there might be slightly more logical solutions. I'm sure these women had concerned, capable and loving women in thier ancestry that wanted to help and love them.
I've also felt my Grandad (who has been dead for 20 years) potentially throughout my late teen and young adult years. I'm humbled that I'm able to feel more than just a heavenly presence but an identity and connection to these amazing people, that my relationships with them are strong and personal. They're my friends as well as my guardian angels. They're on the errand and doing the wishes of my Father and Mother in Heaven, I'm sure. They're made out of that love and I feel it. Almost everyday.
Here's my thinking. If there is a fast track to anger my father it's to disrespect my mother. There are no second chances or appeals for grounding if us giving mom guff is ever involved. I can't imagine the consequences of that emotional dynamic on a divine level. I sometimes think that its in God's mercy that we don't know much about Her and thus have less of an opportunity to incur the wrath of God. Cities could be obliterated by fireballs from the heavens on a regular basis.
Also, the men of the earth (in general) haven't even received mortal women with the respect they deserve. What makes us think that we're deserving of a Divine knowledge as well? I think that She is entirely available on individual levels, but institutionally its a whole different story. Men can't even judiciously ask women out or stay away from porn. Asking about Mother in Heaven seems very ambitious.
Individually I think She is very much involved. We pray to our Father in Heaven in the name of Jesus Christ and humble and love both of them with everything we have. That's revealed doctrine and commandments.We don't pray to Her but that doesn't mean that we don't have access. I think that that's very closed minded thinking.
At the conference they talked about a number of different personal accounts of women in traumatic or dire situations that have received divine comfort that was distinctly feminine and maternal in nature. They claimed it as a communion with Mother in Heaven but I'm not so sure.
All I have are my personal experiences along that vein. They were just as powerful but of a slightly different savor.
Its about families right? The whole Plan is Families.
I would submit that The Plan is set up in families for many reasons and that those families play a MUCH larger part that we're aware of. My great Grandmother was a sassy, bright, and hard working Southern girl from Baton Rouge, LA. She moved west to find a husband after she joined The Church because Priesthood holders were (and still are) in short supply in the South. She ended up in AZ (she wouldn't go to UT) and lived an amazing and full life. He last husband's surname was Child so she was my Grandma Child. She died when I was very young but she meant the world to me then and now. She was very important to my mother too. She was the warmth, love and disciplinarian you'd expect from a Southern girl and then some. That kind of potency isn't diluted in death and especially if she felt she had work to do, namely "bringing up her Ladies". She never stopped in life and I'm sure she hasn't stopped in death.
Both my mother and I, in moments of deep thought and need have felt her very strongly. She has been intimately involved in both of our lives on the other side of the veil, on a divine mother's errand. My mother has felt her at every birth and for a good while thereafter. She's been to every baby blessing. I'm positive she was with me as I went through the temple. She was a temple worker in the Mesa temple for 15 years till she died.
I had a very distinct experience in the MTC with her. Practically a conversation. The veil is very thin there anyways but there was one day I was going a bit stir crazy and decided to run some stairs in the girl's dorm to get some energy out and grab some time to myself. Mom gave me Grandma Child's wedding ring before I left on my mission to "keep me safe". I know mom was terrified at the idea of me leaving but wouldn't show or say it but there it was, on my right ring finger with me on this work out and all of my fear and insecurity about my calling was coming out during this work out. I was feeling the too big bite I had taken. Tears started to come and right then I felt her. She was there running every step with me and loving me and holding me up and reassuring me and pumping all the positive energy and hope she could through whatever opening I gave her. She hasn't left me since. Sometimes I feel her censure, sometimes her approval, sometimes I practically hear her yelling at whatever boy is trying to talk to me that she doesn't approve of. In whatever is going on she is there.
She is a feminine divine in my life and a conduit into my better parts. I would suggest that that be considered when reflecting on these other women's experiences. Not that I'm accusing anyone of mellow drama, just that there might be slightly more logical solutions. I'm sure these women had concerned, capable and loving women in thier ancestry that wanted to help and love them.
I've also felt my Grandad (who has been dead for 20 years) potentially throughout my late teen and young adult years. I'm humbled that I'm able to feel more than just a heavenly presence but an identity and connection to these amazing people, that my relationships with them are strong and personal. They're my friends as well as my guardian angels. They're on the errand and doing the wishes of my Father and Mother in Heaven, I'm sure. They're made out of that love and I feel it. Almost everyday.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Neck High in Familiar Waters
My initial jumbled and disjointed thoughts on the CGU "Mormonism Through the Eyes of Women" conference
CGU put on this amazing daylong symposium/ conference today. They flew in these rock star LDS female scholars and theologians; Laurel Thacher Ulrich, Kate Holbrook, Margaret Toscano... It was almost overwhelming, I'm not going to lie, and even though I'm not a grad student I went, it kind of felt like the underage kid that snuck into the rock show. It’s a feeling I’m very familiar with. My love for the music always won out over the tiny detail that I was too young to get in the club and today was little different.
My mind is cluttered with so many thoughts and reflections on what the discussions of the day contained that I kind of just want to get them out and down to start the digestion process.
We went everywhere:
* Mother in Heaven
* Presiding vs. domination in male/female relationships
* Cultural contradictions in women's church rolls
* Expanding the concept of "bishopric" from a governing trio to a personal accountability/relationship for the world around you
* LDS's women's rolls in the Feminist Movement, just tons of meaty, sensitive, and imperative concepts.
I have a lot of thoughts on each and there were so many informed opinions in the room that I was so curious to hear I kept my mouth shut for the most part.
The first thing that I mused at was how aware I have always been of all the concepts we covered and how little I felt that I needed to be liberated. There were earnest and agendaed individuals there from whom I felt a righteous and constructive discontent. This is something I've seen a lot as a woman in The Church but it never stops being new to me.
I realize that this is because of how I was raised. I think I talk about my background a lot but just the bullet points. I rarely get into the nitty girtties of it for a few reasons:
1) because I realized today that I treasure my life and I irrationally feel that if I talk about it, give it away if you will, that a part of me will go away, like a picture taking away part of your soul. I realize this is silly but it's also true.
2) If I let people know me I open myself up to ridicule and = scary. blah
3) I fear I might run the risk of boasting. At the risk of being cliché, the older I get the more I marvel at the bubble of awesome that I grew up in. The more I realize that the less I talk about it because, well, people don't really have an ear for the rosy and I don't want to be that girl.
But the truth is my rearing was pretty singular. I'm the daughter of a faithful, educated, Feminist hippy mother and a dedicated, brilliant, wife-adoring lawyer. How they got married I still don't know but they did and out came me and my 3 brothers. Mom had us in books from the time our hands could grip something. She read and read and read to us. We practically took up residence in the museums and theaters of Pasadena. She taught us to think with our hearts and dad taught us to think with our heads. Our house was literally covered in art but not anything you'd find at Deseret Book neither was a single craft or quilt to be found. Mom didn’t have a testimony of crafts like some LDS women do. Mucha, Vermeer, Georgia O'Keef, and Diego Rivera is what we saw everyday. All artists she loved who humbled and loved women and painted them with reverence and awe. We were all talking in complete sentences by 1 and a half, reading by two and writing by 3. I won't go into the 20-year argument about how every one of the kids thinks they're the dumbest one because we're all amazement at the talents and capacities of the other 3 but there it is. That's my home - absent of wall space between the art and the bookcases, full of love, mom's hippy folk music, and my champion dad making time and space for it all.
Growing up surrounded by brothers I was shameless tomboy. I don't think I owned a purse till I got home from my mission or wore a skirt for more than 3 hours till then either. It was all about bikes and the Lakers and sword fights and all that awesome stuff. I was a strange tomboy though. I enjoyed getting dirty and climbing on stuff but I was still a lady. I liked cleaning up and had a dedicated vanity in my room complete with powder puff and a cut out of Audrey Hepburn jammed in the mirror frame that I put together of my own accord. I liked being comfortable and just being me. I was comfortable in my own skin. I wasn’t the token girl or sister. I was seen and treated like a rational and respected individual.
My life wasn't angst free by any means. We were the poor family in an affluent ward and neighborhood. We were a liberal family in a conservative religion, members of a scant religious congregation in a big city, usually one of the only white kids in a very multi-colored room and the chubby family among the beautiful people. The rest of my cousins and friends were models, actors, scholarship athletes and Rose queens. Mom was a hyper verbal, strong willed lady and Dad was a passive aggressive genius. Communication was NOT their strong suit. Painful overheard conversations were as regular in my childhood as Star Wars and Legos. I can’t remember a time not feeling like an Other.
My mom and I always discussed the topics we covered today but in quiet moments and the small space between each other. I wasn't ashamed of them or anything, they were present working ideas in my mind that I felt at liberty to think and talk about, I just chose to make that a conversation with my mom. Principally because she is one of the most interesting, informed and insightful people I know.
Also, Pasadena is a gem of a town. In our tiny highly functional East Pasadena Ward I was never once taught or remember feeling submissive or subversive to anyone. The ward was FULL of what I now recognize as healthy feminist women. I was literally surrounded by A-MAZING individuals. A single self-made millionaire was our Relief Society president; lawyers working on Whitewater were my Young Women's leaders. My mom's best friend was a published and successful author who regularly went globe trotting. Ivy league graduates, CalTech grad students, and professional dancers and costume designers peppered every meeting. These were outspoken, highly educated, returned missionary type women who were married to strong, ambitious, successful men who adored them and encouraged us as YW to be the same. None of them were loud or alienating with their dogmas or accomplishments - they just were. It was easy and real. I don't remember any ever even claiming to be a Feminist; they were just their best selves and I hopelessly loved all of them and, despite my Otherness, I always felt loved in return.
It was a fairly regular thing that when couples were assigned to talk that the husband and wife came up together and gave a talk. Together. Standing at the podium for all 40 min giving a talk.
I remember extensive discussions about Alanis Morissette with my home teacher (who was married to that ivy league returned missionary wonder) and talking about Feminist theory and meaning when he came to pick me up to baby sit. My bishop regularly sat us down as a YW group and discussed hard and "taboo" topics with us all the time with total love and respect; polygamy, sex, marriage and sex - the whole schabang. He had monthly firesides (in his home, with a fire) with all of us. Discussions were regular and candid. He never favored male thought over female thought. We had equal responsibility with meetings and activities. I never once felt less than, condescended to or negated. I now recognize that this kind of environment is the exception, not the rule.
I went to a high school of over 3000 kids. 7 of us were LDS, 2 in my graduating class including me. As a youth we were alone in a lot of ways but I never once felt lonely or isolated, not with that ward behind me.
It never ever occurred to me that serving a mission was a social misstep as a woman until I was on my mission and someone (from Utah might I add) pointed it out to me.
So now, in my academic wanderings here I am, almost amiss at how people can think like this, feel as angsty as they do because I didn't come up from that kind of environment at all. It's a double wonder to me. Learning and relearning that 1) dysfunctional conditions persevere and 2) what is proposed to remedy or discuss.
So, explaining the ears with which I heard all of this may inform some of my reaction, non-reaction or thoughts on the day.
I’m beginning to think that Academics are just hyper educated theater types. They live for and adore shock value as much as any thespian. They’re hungry for unexplored concepts and mediums. They have an earnest and honest desire to affect the masses as thespians do too. In turn, they use similar tactics, principally shock value.
LDS theology is singular in a number of respects but one of the most alluring ones is that we are a Christian construct that contains a Mother in Heaven as well as a Father.
We’re all literal spirit children of a Father in Heaven and if God works by patterns (DC 52:14) like He says He does and we live in family groups where He’s revealed that parents are equal partners then a 5 year olds logic would conclude that we must also have a Mother in Heaven as well as a Father. Eliza R Snow wrote about it in one of her hymns that we regularly sing as a church and Joseph Smith later confirmed the idea. She is not someone we worship or pray to but She is definitely involved in things.
There are tons of questions about Her and recorded personal experiences people have had with a distinctly feminine divinity including my mother and I.
... More to come.
CGU put on this amazing daylong symposium/ conference today. They flew in these rock star LDS female scholars and theologians; Laurel Thacher Ulrich, Kate Holbrook, Margaret Toscano... It was almost overwhelming, I'm not going to lie, and even though I'm not a grad student I went, it kind of felt like the underage kid that snuck into the rock show. It’s a feeling I’m very familiar with. My love for the music always won out over the tiny detail that I was too young to get in the club and today was little different.
My mind is cluttered with so many thoughts and reflections on what the discussions of the day contained that I kind of just want to get them out and down to start the digestion process.
We went everywhere:
* Mother in Heaven
* Presiding vs. domination in male/female relationships
* Cultural contradictions in women's church rolls
* Expanding the concept of "bishopric" from a governing trio to a personal accountability/relationship for the world around you
* LDS's women's rolls in the Feminist Movement, just tons of meaty, sensitive, and imperative concepts.
I have a lot of thoughts on each and there were so many informed opinions in the room that I was so curious to hear I kept my mouth shut for the most part.
The first thing that I mused at was how aware I have always been of all the concepts we covered and how little I felt that I needed to be liberated. There were earnest and agendaed individuals there from whom I felt a righteous and constructive discontent. This is something I've seen a lot as a woman in The Church but it never stops being new to me.
I realize that this is because of how I was raised. I think I talk about my background a lot but just the bullet points. I rarely get into the nitty girtties of it for a few reasons:
1) because I realized today that I treasure my life and I irrationally feel that if I talk about it, give it away if you will, that a part of me will go away, like a picture taking away part of your soul. I realize this is silly but it's also true.
2) If I let people know me I open myself up to ridicule and = scary. blah
3) I fear I might run the risk of boasting. At the risk of being cliché, the older I get the more I marvel at the bubble of awesome that I grew up in. The more I realize that the less I talk about it because, well, people don't really have an ear for the rosy and I don't want to be that girl.
But the truth is my rearing was pretty singular. I'm the daughter of a faithful, educated, Feminist hippy mother and a dedicated, brilliant, wife-adoring lawyer. How they got married I still don't know but they did and out came me and my 3 brothers. Mom had us in books from the time our hands could grip something. She read and read and read to us. We practically took up residence in the museums and theaters of Pasadena. She taught us to think with our hearts and dad taught us to think with our heads. Our house was literally covered in art but not anything you'd find at Deseret Book neither was a single craft or quilt to be found. Mom didn’t have a testimony of crafts like some LDS women do. Mucha, Vermeer, Georgia O'Keef, and Diego Rivera is what we saw everyday. All artists she loved who humbled and loved women and painted them with reverence and awe. We were all talking in complete sentences by 1 and a half, reading by two and writing by 3. I won't go into the 20-year argument about how every one of the kids thinks they're the dumbest one because we're all amazement at the talents and capacities of the other 3 but there it is. That's my home - absent of wall space between the art and the bookcases, full of love, mom's hippy folk music, and my champion dad making time and space for it all.
Growing up surrounded by brothers I was shameless tomboy. I don't think I owned a purse till I got home from my mission or wore a skirt for more than 3 hours till then either. It was all about bikes and the Lakers and sword fights and all that awesome stuff. I was a strange tomboy though. I enjoyed getting dirty and climbing on stuff but I was still a lady. I liked cleaning up and had a dedicated vanity in my room complete with powder puff and a cut out of Audrey Hepburn jammed in the mirror frame that I put together of my own accord. I liked being comfortable and just being me. I was comfortable in my own skin. I wasn’t the token girl or sister. I was seen and treated like a rational and respected individual.
My life wasn't angst free by any means. We were the poor family in an affluent ward and neighborhood. We were a liberal family in a conservative religion, members of a scant religious congregation in a big city, usually one of the only white kids in a very multi-colored room and the chubby family among the beautiful people. The rest of my cousins and friends were models, actors, scholarship athletes and Rose queens. Mom was a hyper verbal, strong willed lady and Dad was a passive aggressive genius. Communication was NOT their strong suit. Painful overheard conversations were as regular in my childhood as Star Wars and Legos. I can’t remember a time not feeling like an Other.
My mom and I always discussed the topics we covered today but in quiet moments and the small space between each other. I wasn't ashamed of them or anything, they were present working ideas in my mind that I felt at liberty to think and talk about, I just chose to make that a conversation with my mom. Principally because she is one of the most interesting, informed and insightful people I know.
Also, Pasadena is a gem of a town. In our tiny highly functional East Pasadena Ward I was never once taught or remember feeling submissive or subversive to anyone. The ward was FULL of what I now recognize as healthy feminist women. I was literally surrounded by A-MAZING individuals. A single self-made millionaire was our Relief Society president; lawyers working on Whitewater were my Young Women's leaders. My mom's best friend was a published and successful author who regularly went globe trotting. Ivy league graduates, CalTech grad students, and professional dancers and costume designers peppered every meeting. These were outspoken, highly educated, returned missionary type women who were married to strong, ambitious, successful men who adored them and encouraged us as YW to be the same. None of them were loud or alienating with their dogmas or accomplishments - they just were. It was easy and real. I don't remember any ever even claiming to be a Feminist; they were just their best selves and I hopelessly loved all of them and, despite my Otherness, I always felt loved in return.
It was a fairly regular thing that when couples were assigned to talk that the husband and wife came up together and gave a talk. Together. Standing at the podium for all 40 min giving a talk.
I remember extensive discussions about Alanis Morissette with my home teacher (who was married to that ivy league returned missionary wonder) and talking about Feminist theory and meaning when he came to pick me up to baby sit. My bishop regularly sat us down as a YW group and discussed hard and "taboo" topics with us all the time with total love and respect; polygamy, sex, marriage and sex - the whole schabang. He had monthly firesides (in his home, with a fire) with all of us. Discussions were regular and candid. He never favored male thought over female thought. We had equal responsibility with meetings and activities. I never once felt less than, condescended to or negated. I now recognize that this kind of environment is the exception, not the rule.
I went to a high school of over 3000 kids. 7 of us were LDS, 2 in my graduating class including me. As a youth we were alone in a lot of ways but I never once felt lonely or isolated, not with that ward behind me.
It never ever occurred to me that serving a mission was a social misstep as a woman until I was on my mission and someone (from Utah might I add) pointed it out to me.
So now, in my academic wanderings here I am, almost amiss at how people can think like this, feel as angsty as they do because I didn't come up from that kind of environment at all. It's a double wonder to me. Learning and relearning that 1) dysfunctional conditions persevere and 2) what is proposed to remedy or discuss.
So, explaining the ears with which I heard all of this may inform some of my reaction, non-reaction or thoughts on the day.
I’m beginning to think that Academics are just hyper educated theater types. They live for and adore shock value as much as any thespian. They’re hungry for unexplored concepts and mediums. They have an earnest and honest desire to affect the masses as thespians do too. In turn, they use similar tactics, principally shock value.
LDS theology is singular in a number of respects but one of the most alluring ones is that we are a Christian construct that contains a Mother in Heaven as well as a Father.
We’re all literal spirit children of a Father in Heaven and if God works by patterns (DC 52:14) like He says He does and we live in family groups where He’s revealed that parents are equal partners then a 5 year olds logic would conclude that we must also have a Mother in Heaven as well as a Father. Eliza R Snow wrote about it in one of her hymns that we regularly sing as a church and Joseph Smith later confirmed the idea. She is not someone we worship or pray to but She is definitely involved in things.
There are tons of questions about Her and recorded personal experiences people have had with a distinctly feminine divinity including my mother and I.
... More to come.
Friday, April 4, 2008
The Price We Pay
So there are two ways people pass time in life.
One is having a career which is usually challenging, but in the good, worth-the-sacrifice kind of way. It's anything from being an artist to a lawyer to a gardener or mother. But it's always something that somebody does because of what drives them.
What we do in the meantime are jobs - and having a job sucks. I know this because I have one. It's a very jobby kind of job.
I think there is a reason they call this state after one of the most afflicted men ever recorded in history. Job - stricken Old Testament prophet. Job - source of the majority of affliction in one's live.
Coincidence? I think not.
Yes you get paid. But most of the the time it's doing something you either loathe, are bored to tears with, feel is sucking your soul out of your ears, or something you hate yourself for, or all of the above.
And sadly the jobs that actually pay you enough to, I don't know, PAY YOUR BILLS, are particularly loathsome because the more you're paid the more somebody else doesn't want to do your job. Which really just means that it's a terrible thing. A very terrible thing.
There are a few things that make the concept of a job bearable.
One is the people you work with and the other is your environment.
Benefits are nice, but I think, in terms of the emotional toll a job takes on you those are the only two factors that could possibly curb the tediousness that is your everyday.
I've worked in offices my whole life. I grew up in my father's law office. They're second nature to me but it wasn't until I was a bit older that I realized how utterly ridiculous they are and an expository of the worst that human nature has to offer.
I work with a few cool people. They're real and funny and chill and we all have the same work ethic and it's awesome. One is my supervisor and the other is my partner in my division. But the rest of the people, including our diabolical Ned Flanders (aka- HR man), are bearers of some of the grossest double standards I've ever come across in my life.
They try to paint a picture of a chill "business casual" workplace but what they say and what you're held accountable to are apparently two different things. And what standard you're held to depends entirely on their mood that day apparently. We're supposed to be on time I seriously can't remember the last time two of the three people I'm accountable to have ever been there when they say they're going to be. There is a myriad of other things I could harp on but it would be pointless, silly, and probably wouldn't make much sense to someone who doesn't spend 8.5 hours of their day in my little corner of the world. Needless to say, power games are constantly being played, and people's punctuality is the tip of the iceberg.
It literally makes me sick if I think about it too hard. Because the reality of it all is that I am subjected to that kind of hypocrisy all day everyday. I mean, it might just be a matter of time before it becomes commonplace to me. Put a frog in cold water.... It's beyond me how people live like that. It's a delicate schizophrenia and one I want no part in.
I don't believe in maniacal games or petty office politics and consequently don't play them or understand them and so when they eventually effect me, they hurt three times as much. But how can little else happen when you work in such a place? No wonder people drink. I really understand that on days like today.
I mean - it could always be worse, and I realize that. I could be mining coal or working for Anne Wintour or be a PA on Jerry Springer or clean out porter-potties. But seeing this side of people day in and out is taxing and depressing. Why are there people like this in the world and why do I always seem to end up working with more than one? I mean - one is enough, but we have multiples.
You know when you look at someone and can almost taste how bitter they are about life and can almost hear the jeers of the adolescent boys that teased him all through high school and regularly pantsed him and shoved him into lockers? And you can see that he is still fighting all of them somewhere somehow everyday? You know he still remembers their names and finds himself gripping is steering wheel too hard on his commute home when he thinks about them. He sees them in the faces of the big Company executives who handed him his pink slip when he had just began to think that he was finally getting out of his loser whimper phase he'd been in for 15 years. You know when you can smell the smarm he developed from pitting his divorced parents against each other his whole life just to get what he wants and he is bent on taking out all of that frustration and powerlessness and consequently power-hunger on people like you who are just trying to get through school and have a bit of fun in between?
You know that guy? Welcome to my office -
I need to move to Africa and help AIDS orphans or do something that actually contributes to the Greater Good (not in the Hot Fuzz sense) and work with people who truly care about things other than themselves.
Designer purses, river houses, an office with windows, and being able to stick it to a subordinate and get a way with it doesn't vindicate anything. It doesn't make life worth living and never has. And no matter how much bullying they do, it won't ever even the score of the real battles they didn't have the balls to fight when they came up. All they're doing is making new enemies and proving themselves to be the EXACT type of person that hurt them in the first place.
I am SO glad its Friday.
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