Here's wishing a happy Easter to you all! May we all remember the true reason for the holiday and give thanks to God for the gift of His Son.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Mr. Mormon's Q&A 1: Missionaries, the First Lesson, and Committing to Baptism
Finally, just a few days ago, I decided to start keeping track of these questions that I have and the answers I come up. And, since I assume that I'm not the only person in the world (member or not) who is asking these questions, I figured I'd share my musings online, where hopefully they'll be helpful to some other honest seeker of truth. I'll call this running series of posts "Mr. Mormon's Q & A".
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Say Something, Stupid.
Mrs. here. (Hello.)
The Mr. and I had a long discussion in bed last night (we do that). After preparing to give remarks in our local sacrament meeting, we had both become frustrated with the amount of misinformation regarding Mormons on the internet. Or maybe not even misinformation. Misrepresentation. And the thing is, most of the offensive, mean, or completely inaccurate websites that bothered us don't come from outsiders.
They come from other members of our faith.
I am tired of being lumped in to one of three groups. According to everyone else, I am definitely one of these:
A) Part of an extremely oppressed set of women who have been abused, demeaned, and cowed so that we're all too scared to say anything.
B) A feminist who is fighting for change, actively petitioning the leaders of our Church to allow women to hold "more prestigious" callings or even hold the priesthood.
C) Part of a perfect, oblivious life in which I am super crafty and probably on anti-depressants. Oh, and I probably publicly blog about it.
I don't know about you, but man, that is a lot of pressure! I either have to be oppressed, bra-burning, or a naive, less devious version of Martha Stewart. I can't do it, friends.
The truth, like in most cases, is much less fantastic or glamorous. In real life, I am exactly like most women. I am college educated, I am a mother, I took my husband's last name because it's easier, and it's a nice tradition. I am completely content to let him be the primary breadwinner, because who wouldn't want to stay at home and hang out with a cute kid all day instead of clawing their way to the top of the corporate ladder? (I definitely know there are some of you, and that's fine. But it's also a valid viewpoint to just not care.) I fall somewhere in the middle of the political spectrum. I dress neither overtly terribly nor stunningly fashionably. I'm just an average 20-something gal. Except I'm Mormon.
And we realized, the Mr. and I, that part of the reason so many of these untruths and fanatical versions of ourselves propagate online and in the national media is because the rest of us keep our mouths shut. Since we're nothing unusual or very interesting, we just live our lives, silently fuming at those who mock us, disrespect us, and stereotype us.
So we're saying something. And if you're just an average Jane or Joe, too, maybe you'll join us in taking back our identities. It doesn't matter if you're Mormon, Atheist, Republican, a Yankees fan, a pageant mom, an artist...whatever your thing is, chances are that it defines you, but it doesn't fundamentally change you into a psychopath. We're all just here, making things work the best way we know how, keeping to ourselves in the hopes that if we ignore the crazies, they'll go away.
But they aren't going anywhere. So if the rest of us don't join the conversation, the crazies will be all that's left.
That's why we're here.
The Mr. and I had a long discussion in bed last night (we do that). After preparing to give remarks in our local sacrament meeting, we had both become frustrated with the amount of misinformation regarding Mormons on the internet. Or maybe not even misinformation. Misrepresentation. And the thing is, most of the offensive, mean, or completely inaccurate websites that bothered us don't come from outsiders.
They come from other members of our faith.
I am tired of being lumped in to one of three groups. According to everyone else, I am definitely one of these:
A) Part of an extremely oppressed set of women who have been abused, demeaned, and cowed so that we're all too scared to say anything.
B) A feminist who is fighting for change, actively petitioning the leaders of our Church to allow women to hold "more prestigious" callings or even hold the priesthood.
C) Part of a perfect, oblivious life in which I am super crafty and probably on anti-depressants. Oh, and I probably publicly blog about it.
I don't know about you, but man, that is a lot of pressure! I either have to be oppressed, bra-burning, or a naive, less devious version of Martha Stewart. I can't do it, friends.
The truth, like in most cases, is much less fantastic or glamorous. In real life, I am exactly like most women. I am college educated, I am a mother, I took my husband's last name because it's easier, and it's a nice tradition. I am completely content to let him be the primary breadwinner, because who wouldn't want to stay at home and hang out with a cute kid all day instead of clawing their way to the top of the corporate ladder? (I definitely know there are some of you, and that's fine. But it's also a valid viewpoint to just not care.) I fall somewhere in the middle of the political spectrum. I dress neither overtly terribly nor stunningly fashionably. I'm just an average 20-something gal. Except I'm Mormon.
So we're saying something. And if you're just an average Jane or Joe, too, maybe you'll join us in taking back our identities. It doesn't matter if you're Mormon, Atheist, Republican, a Yankees fan, a pageant mom, an artist...whatever your thing is, chances are that it defines you, but it doesn't fundamentally change you into a psychopath. We're all just here, making things work the best way we know how, keeping to ourselves in the hopes that if we ignore the crazies, they'll go away.
But they aren't going anywhere. So if the rest of us don't join the conversation, the crazies will be all that's left.
That's why we're here.
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