The Book of Mormon Girl--First 2 Chapters

I was lucky enough to get to spend some time with Joanna Brooks last Thursday. I photographed her with her book, and she kindly gave me a signed copy that was completely unexpected and sincerely sweet of her. She is just a good person. She is a smart person. She is a person that knows what to say and how to make people feel understood.

Since I have not actively participated in the Mormon church for the last little while (besides haphazard blogging with the Exponent), I had sort of forgotten that the world sees Mormons as a peculiar people. Most of those "peculiar" behaviors are no longer part of my life, but some of them are and always will be. However, with the upcoming election, I am being reminded of all the ways that "outsiders" look at my family and see their peculiar behavior. I vacillate between agreeing with the world (it's just green tea people!), and wanting to explain some things more clearly when the world gets it wrong (no, there is no practice of polygamy in the church today). 

I snuggled down this week to start reading the memoir. In the past year, I've only read one other book dealing with Mormonism and that was Elna Baker's The New York Regional Singles Mormon Halloween Dance. After reading that, I had to call my good friend and have a long, frustrated, sad cry. I identified with the Elna's story so exactly that it caused me to feel such loss and such remorse over distancing myself from my Mormon-ness and also extreme frustration that I was still awkward and unknowingly unsure about how to participate in the regular world outside of Mormon identification. I felt, quite honestly, that it would have either been easier to stay (which it most certainly would have been). I questioned why I put myself and my family and my friends through my disassociation and extreme doubt and rabid vocalization of my dissatisfaction. But that's the thing with dissatisfaction, it's hard to keep it quiet.

In enters The Book of Mormon Girl. I sat down on Friday and read three pages. Those pages, so beauitflly and poetically and precisely written to paint the life of a Mormon girl. Those pages that will mean completely different things to Mormon people than they will to non-Mormons. Those pages that evoke smells and sounds and memories of a good life, of the beautiful traditions, and the wholesome goodness that defined my childhood.

I shut the book.  I was not sure I could go there again. Not sure I wanted to bring up the feelings of loneliness and unbelonging that come when I see my happy Mormon friends attending their church meetings. The feelings of being misunderstood, or being perceived as a sinner or lazy. The feelings that come up and that I must process and address so that I can keep living an authentic life.

Saturday night I worked through another chapter, and I mourned not feeling a part of the only community I have ever really known. I thought I had processed through these emotions, but that is the funny thing, your childhood never goes away. Even if I thought I had put enough distance between who I am now and who I was as a Mormon--I'm not sure it will ever go away.

I shut the book.  I was feeling uncomfortable. I was imagining the life I could have had as a Mormon. The life I had always imagined having, which looks nothing like the fabulous life I am living now. 

Sunday morning, I opened it again and kept on going. Through Joanna's descriptions of her childhood, I returned to my childhood. I felt the love of my grandmother as we would sit on a church pew together. I remembered the special day that my father baptized me and gave me the gift of the Holy Ghost through a special blessing. I remembered feeling so wanted and loved by a kind Heavenly Father. I remembered when Jesus was a pivotal person in my life. I remember wearing plaid jumpers and having no bigger desires then to live a life pleasing to God. I remember a time when I never, never let a curse word pass my lips (hard to believe!)

It was like all the perfect and happy and warm and comforting moments of being Mormon flashed through my head in little vignettes painting in pinks and golds. With all the good memories, it gets easy to forget the bad ones, the ugly ones. I wanted to make excuses for all the hurt and pain that I suffered and that millions of women and men of all colors suffered. It made me want to forget that I care about gay marriage and equal rights and patriarchy, and personal freedom and choice. It made me go deep into my heart space to ask myself if I should be Mormon again ( I still check in about once a year).

Tomorrow. I'll tackle chapter 3.

Let's Do Everything For the First Time...Forever

My First Christmas Stocking (wow, it should have had a hairbrush inside it!)

Life is full of "first times"...that first slow dance, that first kiss, that first ice cream cone, that first time you see the Eiffel Tower in real life, that first bruise, that first broken heart.....so many first times. What is so important about these first moments? Is it the newness? the unexpected? the not knowing what the experience will be like?

One of my favorite songs by Of Montreal is "Let's Do Everything for the First Time Forever"

Will you kiss me again so I can pretend we're kissing for the first time. Because when we kissed for the first time I was distracted. I couldn't believe it was true that I was truly really finally kissing you. Will you hug me again so I can pretend we're embracing for the first time. Cause when you held me for the first time I lost my senses. I couldn't believe it was real. Inside I was laughing and dancing like peppermint eels

May we dance again so I can pretend we're dancing for the first time. Because when we danced for the first time I was so nervous. I could hardly stay on my feet. My felicity must not have been very discreet. Will you give me your hand so I can pretend I'm holding it for the first time? Let's do everything for the first time forever. And if forever you are my friend I'll never ever feel unhappy again

I love that idea of doing everything for the first time....forever!

Last night I went home to play baseball with the nieces and nephews and eat dinner. When April and I walked into the door we saw old boxes my mom was trying to go through. We sat down to help her and found all these old photos that I haven't seen in a long time. Some of them not preserved so well, but all of them full of memories. April and I kept saying, "Wow this was the first time I did this.....and this...." and there is magic in that first time!

What first times do you still have to look forward to in your life? What were some of your most memorable "firsts"? 

First times make life exciting!!

My first swing. This was replaced the next year with a huge tire swing that would define a childhood. My mom said I wore that hat around for about 3 months straight.

My first mudbath (thought you can't tell by the shadow, but Audra looks worse). We had just gotten home from church, in our Sunday dresses and I decided I wanted to play in the mud. Audra ran in after me, and we both slipped and slided all over the place. My parents never yelled at us, never told us not to get our dresses dirty, they just laughed and whipped out the old camera.

My first time helping to plant the huge garden that would feed us all summer and fall. I basically just followed every move Audra (five years older than me) made. I've helped plant this same, huge garden every year that I have been in the same country.

The first big family reunion on the Davis side (yep, my mom grew up with the name Betty Davis) with a professional photographer. I just remembered that I got to spend days and days in the water, one of my favorite places!) We laughed so hard last night at my dad's tennis shoes and wool socks and swim trunks...he's always had, eh, um, problem, shall we say, putting clothes together.

The very first camping trip with my entire family, meaning the caboose, Brooke was all of two weeks old in this photo (Audra is holding her, my mom is taking the photo..and yes, that is me, always posing with a mullet/perm I'd like to forget about.) We'd also get our yearly supply of firewood to keep us warm for the winter.

The first time my mom saved up enough money to buy all her kids (one to be born later) brand new clothes for very official and professional photos (both things a rarity of my childhood.) I remember not being impressed with the man taking these photos, he kept using all these manipulation tactics to get us to smile. He annoyed me and scared my kid brother to death, David burst into tears right after this.

My first time rowing a boat. I am at the head, my sister, Audra in the rowing position in this photo, but she actually turned it over to me during part of the outing!

Dressing up for my first Opera in the first dress I ever sewed for myself (in the fashion of Jane Austen, who I was obsessed with at this time).