American Christ(ins)ianity
At church, I worked with the youth. The kids are aged 4 -12 years old. there was an assistant youth pastor there whose wife was having difficulties with her health and this minister came up to me and told me that if his wife died, he wanted to marry me so that I could take care of his kids. He was generally hitting on me as well and I didn't like it. I told my dad about this and he didn't do anything about it because it "wasn't a big deal" until my mother ate his face and made him make it a big deal. Anyway, that minister is still over the youth at the church. He was forced to apologize to his wife for such behavior but that was basically his punishment.
That's when I left that church. I couldn't be a part of such an organization.
My mother wants me to return to that church because she misses me there, my dad never wanted me to leave. But I had to leave because the church just made me angry all the time. The whole thing seemed ritualistic and totally about appearances and not about community; not about love.
I went to sleep this past Sunday dreading the idea of going back to church and in my dreams, I got into an argument with the clergy and told them to fuck off. Not the best attitude to go to a pretentious church. Because this is not about coming together as a family, it's about showing off and seeing who has aged better or worse than others. There is nothing spiritual about this coming together and I dread it already.
I often think about what Jesus would do and who he would hang around and how he showed God to others. Yes, Jesus certainly had his more temperamental moments (like the money changers at the church - where he flipped over the tables and told them to get the hell out of his dad's house!) But mostly, he was just compassionate. For example, the woman who was caught in adultery and they were about to stone her. Jesus said, "He who has no sin cast the first stone." Eventually, everyone left and he told the woman, "Go and sin no more." He, the only legitimate person to pass judgment on her, showed her mercy and compassion beyond compare. Isn't this what we should be doing with each other? Isn't this how we should be loving?
I see so much hate in the world and it makes my heart literally hurt. Have you ever watched the movie or read the book, The Secret Life of Bees? If you can, please do either read or watch the movie. (obviously, the book is better, but the movie is a pretty good rendition). In it, there are three sisters; June, May, and April. I am May. May takes everyone's feelings as her own and she is a sponge. Every little thing that happens to the sisters are compounded within May and she is sometimes burdened by events in the family. So, the sisters try and keep things from her, but oftentimes she feels and hears things on her own. So, the sisters give her a wall to cry at. She is to write her burdens down, pray over them and leave them in the crevasses of the wall.
But one burden is too hard for her to bear and she does the only thing she knows to do. She drowns herself in the creak in the backyard. In no way am I saying I am having suicidal ideation, however, I am saying that I can totally relate to her just not wanting to feel the burdens of the world 24/7. I think that is why I miss my grandmother so much. She fought for so long and for so hard and still we as a society has not made much progress. How do you keep going? How do you keep fighting?
This week, I changed my Facebook picture back to the rainbow version of Black Lives Matter. One SSW graduate stated that All Lives Matter. I had to explain to him that he was right, all lives do matter, but it is the ones who have dark skin (and possibly different religions) that are current targets and need help. He didn't seem to understand that and then I felt horrible because he has his degree in social work and should know better. (Can we take away his degree????)
I am tired. I am tired of fighting a never-ending battle of equality. I am fighting being a target. I am fighting of apologizing to my student worker because he is Hispanic and delivers pizza at his other job in Dallas and people act like he is an illegal immigrant and wants to spit at him; when all he is doing is delivering their pizza. I am so tired of all of this fake, petty, ridiculous, angry, juvenile, idiotic stuff that is happening in America. We focus on things that are not important and yet people every day are dying.
I am not sure where love went. But it's not here. It's not in the United States and I am not sure it ever was. Perhaps it is I, perhaps I have not conformed to American standards of what is. Perhaps it is I who need to stop caring, stop loving, stop listening, and stop hurting with those who are hurting too.
When I say I feel lost, this is what I mean. I don't fit in here. I have always felt the most important person in the room was anybody other than myself. My parents always got angry about that, but I thought it was the most Christian way to be. You don't love others as yourself, you treat them better! Maybe that's my downfall. I don't know.
This pain that I carry has folded itself into my dissertation work as well. the trials and tribulations these former foster kids have gone through, I feel it. And it makes me even sadder.