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Showing posts with label The gayborhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The gayborhood. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Bubbling over
I've had something on my back-burner for SO LONG that it's left permanent scorch-marks.
Finally, thanks to an article in Salon.com, by THIS woman, I did something I've meant to do, oh, for the past 22 years. (And I should also note here that I'm basically plagiarizing her letter with few edits of my own).
IMO, Proposition 8 is probably nothing more than a bump in the road on the way to authentically unbiased, unprejudiced civil rights for all...it just means it will take a bit longer to get there. And for people who might have never otherwise thought about it, this experience has hopefully made them think about whether they want to live a life exemplifying hate or love.
However, for me, Prop 8 is significant as a catalyst for something I've needed to do for a long time:
Member Records Division, LDS Church
50 E North Temple Rm 1372
SLC UT 84150-5310
This letter is my formal resignation from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
As of November 4, 2008, I terminate my membership.
The LDS church has participated in a hate-filled political campaign against the rights of families in California and other states, and this is the catalyst for my action.
Please remove the name Rebekah Waffle (birth date: March 16, 1970) from the records of the LDS Church immediately — as dictated in the General Handbook of instructions. I understand that my resignation from the church cancels the effect of baptism, withdraws the priesthood (not applicable to me as a woman), and revokes temple blessings. I hereby withdraw my consent to being treated as a member and any tacit consent membership implies that I might be subject to church rules, policies, beliefs and disciplines. As I am no longer a member, I want my name permanently and immediately removed from the membership rolls of the LDS church.
Please promptly complete the form “Request for Administrative Action”, and forward it to the appropriate Stake President. You will need to send me a letter telling me that you have done so. Further, I formally demand that the 30-day holding period be waived, and that the Stake President forward this letter and the form to the Office of the First Presidency as soon as he receives it.
I will not participate in church court or disciplinary council, as I am no longer a member. I do not wish to be contacted by anyone except by mail confirming that my name has been removed from the records. This includes home teachers, visiting teachers or any church leadership attempting to visit my home or contact me by telephone.
I do not condone your church’s overt encouragement of members to campaign against the civil rights of others. While I have other beliefs at odds with Mormon teachings, it is this issue which has finally given me the push I needed to withdraw my membership.
Rebekah Waffle
November 15, 2008
I should add here that I have a large adoptive family. I am the only non-Mormon out of my parents, 3 siblings, their spouses, 20 nieces and nephews, their spouses (the ones who are married) and 2 great-nephews. My parents are old and love their church. My siblings and their kids are not old and love their church.
At least one member of my family reads this blog semi-regularly, so whenever I post about my whole round-and-round about God, Mormons, dinosaurs and wizards and peepstones and loving everybody no matter who THEY love, I know that I've got at least one person from that world who might (repeatedly and consistently) be offended by me. And, goatess, I love your support and the fact that you never huff off and don't return. It's important to me to work through what I need to work through, even in a public forum, but I always feel bummed that it might seem unkind or ungrateful to a family I genuinely love. This matter, though. I'm not sure how it will be taken.
In my mind, it's a formality. I haven't been much of a Mormon for the past 20+ years other than my obsession with how that's shaped my worldview. I can't see it as making much difference, but sometimes I'm surprised by what matters to other people and what doesn't. Maybe they'll see it as a way to make change, or start a dialog. Or maybe they'll see it as a gross insult. Hard to know. And it may not come up at all. But, for what it's worth, it's the sole thing that's held me back until now.
Finally, thanks to an article in Salon.com, by THIS woman, I did something I've meant to do, oh, for the past 22 years. (And I should also note here that I'm basically plagiarizing her letter with few edits of my own).
IMO, Proposition 8 is probably nothing more than a bump in the road on the way to authentically unbiased, unprejudiced civil rights for all...it just means it will take a bit longer to get there. And for people who might have never otherwise thought about it, this experience has hopefully made them think about whether they want to live a life exemplifying hate or love.
However, for me, Prop 8 is significant as a catalyst for something I've needed to do for a long time:
Member Records Division, LDS Church
50 E North Temple Rm 1372
SLC UT 84150-5310
This letter is my formal resignation from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
As of November 4, 2008, I terminate my membership.
The LDS church has participated in a hate-filled political campaign against the rights of families in California and other states, and this is the catalyst for my action.
Please remove the name Rebekah Waffle (birth date: March 16, 1970) from the records of the LDS Church immediately — as dictated in the General Handbook of instructions. I understand that my resignation from the church cancels the effect of baptism, withdraws the priesthood (not applicable to me as a woman), and revokes temple blessings. I hereby withdraw my consent to being treated as a member and any tacit consent membership implies that I might be subject to church rules, policies, beliefs and disciplines. As I am no longer a member, I want my name permanently and immediately removed from the membership rolls of the LDS church.
Please promptly complete the form “Request for Administrative Action”, and forward it to the appropriate Stake President. You will need to send me a letter telling me that you have done so. Further, I formally demand that the 30-day holding period be waived, and that the Stake President forward this letter and the form to the Office of the First Presidency as soon as he receives it.
I will not participate in church court or disciplinary council, as I am no longer a member. I do not wish to be contacted by anyone except by mail confirming that my name has been removed from the records. This includes home teachers, visiting teachers or any church leadership attempting to visit my home or contact me by telephone.
I do not condone your church’s overt encouragement of members to campaign against the civil rights of others. While I have other beliefs at odds with Mormon teachings, it is this issue which has finally given me the push I needed to withdraw my membership.
Rebekah Waffle
November 15, 2008
I should add here that I have a large adoptive family. I am the only non-Mormon out of my parents, 3 siblings, their spouses, 20 nieces and nephews, their spouses (the ones who are married) and 2 great-nephews. My parents are old and love their church. My siblings and their kids are not old and love their church.
At least one member of my family reads this blog semi-regularly, so whenever I post about my whole round-and-round about God, Mormons, dinosaurs and wizards and peepstones and loving everybody no matter who THEY love, I know that I've got at least one person from that world who might (repeatedly and consistently) be offended by me. And, goatess, I love your support and the fact that you never huff off and don't return. It's important to me to work through what I need to work through, even in a public forum, but I always feel bummed that it might seem unkind or ungrateful to a family I genuinely love. This matter, though. I'm not sure how it will be taken.
In my mind, it's a formality. I haven't been much of a Mormon for the past 20+ years other than my obsession with how that's shaped my worldview. I can't see it as making much difference, but sometimes I'm surprised by what matters to other people and what doesn't. Maybe they'll see it as a way to make change, or start a dialog. Or maybe they'll see it as a gross insult. Hard to know. And it may not come up at all. But, for what it's worth, it's the sole thing that's held me back until now.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Chris
A couple of weeks ago, I went out to the garage to track down some files left in my filing cabinet. Because a filing cabinet, in a garage, in Oregon...a state which gets an average 8 months of rain? Not the best place to leave paper items you want to ever see again.
Like my adoption records. Or marriage certificates (and divorce papers). It was a trip, because we've moved a lot and I hadn't seen many of those files and photos and letters for about 10 years. One of the best discoveries was an entire folder full of the kindest, hardest letters, circa 1986, from my friend Chris.
Excerpt:
"...I'm not going to kill myself. Although I sometimes think it would be nice. I felt sick all last night. And I couldn't sleep...I'm going nuts, Becky! Crazy!! I scream silently for help. I wish it would STOP!...I'm safe at school. Sort of. The feelings don't go away. It's ruining me. What do you think of me? Am I awful? What do you think of the vestle (sic) clean white boy who is all American, Mom's dream, funny all the time? Now that he's shown to be a corroding pervert and a....I can't write it. I'm so scared. It sounds terrible. The nights are worse because I'm forced to think. God is trying to help me. He is giving me confidence. I love him. Mike told Melonie that you told me that she admires me. If she only knew. If she only knew. {sigh} Goodnight, with all the love I have left, Chris."
Heartbreaking. And since you don't know Chris, you just have to take my word that you would be hard pressed to find a dearer, kinder boy. Every letter of his from this time contains some measure of that self-loathing and pain.
When we were there, in high school, in Salt Lake City, Chris & I were misfits for different reasons, but ended up in similar places. His support, constant irony, and sense of the ridiculous (and the finite nature of high school) kept me sane and optimistic.
I was...awkward physically and socially, with parents trying to convince me college was where good, plain girls like me go to find husbands - as quickly as possible. I wanted SO MUCH more for myself than I was getting. More encouragement. More freedom. More opportunities of all kinds. More room to just figure out what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be once I was away from the constant control. Like a LOT of people, I wanted out Out OUT - NOW!!! College couldn't sweep me away soon enough!
Conversely, Chris was an absolute golden boy, and my opposite in many, many ways: Class president. Lead in all the school plays. Handsome. Perfect teeth. Perfect hair. Snappy dresser. And closeted. SUPER closeted. He wanted in In IN! FOREVER!!!!
It's hard to describe to people outside of that world all of the ways in which being a gay Mormon man is simply impossible. Not only because everyone around you subscribes to a sort-of basic fundy-homophobe-going-to-hell belief-system (and so do you, probably), but also because that is a world which in particular provides both secular and metaphysical rewards to faithful, heterosexual men.
I don't think Mormon women have it all that great. The messages they get are a mixture of subservience, polygamy-in-the-afterlife, having-babies-is-your-calling, being-a-helpmeet-is-fun. Whee. Plus bad underwear. I'm always surprised that many women are fulfilled in that world. But they are...and that's another topic.
Obedient Mormon men, however, are constantly being promoted to higher and higher echelons within that structure. They're told that faithful men are like gods, both figuratively and, in their afterlife, literally. All the wives they can support in that post-life-godhood. And greater community standing, jobs, houses, leadership roles, etc. in this life.
It's not easy to walk away from being constantly told how great and important you are, and how many gifts you will receive in this life and the one after, particularly if leaving meant existing in an unknown, chaotic world which you've been told leads to hell, misery, corruption, self-loathing and complete social ostracization by everyone you care about...
Also in the 1980's, gay=AIDS=death. It wasn't a great, promising time to come out and experience the naked panoply of hot, gay, man-love.
So Chris was suffering. A lot. And I was figuring out that, contrary to the rumors I'd heard, being gay didn't actually seem to mean all that much of anything disgusting, abnormal or corrupt, news which fit right in with my growing resentment of religious hypocrisy.
I also was figuring out that the key difference for Chris was that he'd have a hell of a lot harder road to happiness than my own average one of angst and rebellion.
Re-reading those letters was sweet. Bittersweet, sometimes, but...also moving and delightful. Today I xeroxed the entire folder and mailed the copies to New York. To Chris, who is now all fabulous, demi-famous, completely out, acting and directing edgy off-Broadway theater, living with his long-term love, Desmond, and, most importantly, loving life.
High school=sucked...but that seems to be one of it's key functions. Oppression=very sucky. Suffering=also sucky. Having your parents cut you off because you are gay/atheist/not-them=very very sucky.
Lifelong friendships+freedom+love=NOT SUCKY.
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