Mormon Women Ask For a Place at the Table

LDS women line up to seek admission into the Priesthood session

This morning I logged onto facebook to see one friend after another post about the glory and goodness of the talk given by President Dieter F. Uchdorf. Statuses were updated about how much they loved his words, about the truth he spoke, and about how there is room for each person who desires to be accepted and cherished in the "one true church".  

It was hard for me to read, not because I didn't love the message, who wouldn't love a message that encourages us to love others, live up to our potential, and to live a life void of regrets. No, it was hard for me to read because I knew that tonight I would go down to Temple Square and watch as sister after sister--my sisters no matter what my current beliefs--asked to be let in to the Priesthood session. And I knew that I would watch them be turned away, one by one, their hearts breaking yet again.

What I forgot to factor in was the fact that man after man would belittle their feelings. That Priesthood holder after Priesthood holder would laugh when they learned why all those women were waiting in line. They would rolled their eyes. They would make jokes about "angry feminists" or "crazy feminists" or "stupid feminists" or "ungrateful feminists". They thought it sinful. They felt uncomfortable. They averted their eyes. They pretended not to see us. That hurt. That always hurts.

Women are denied entrance on the left while men and boys gain access on the right.

Man after man was let into conference. Boy after boy was let into the conference. Woman after woman was denied. Women from all over the world came, stood, and asked to be let into the priesthood session:

"I am a faithful woman in this church. I have three daughters. May I please enter and watch the priesthood session?"

"No, this session is only for men."

"Hello, my name is Anne. I have been a member all my life. I would like to come into the priesthood session and listen to my prophet."

"I'm sorry, I can't let you in. This session is only for men."

Woman after Woman denied entrance

"I would like to be let in."

"I would like a ticket."

"I want to listen to my prophet."

"I'm faithful. I served a mission. I would like to enter."

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. 

Mormon men and boys avert their eyes and ignore their sisters seeking entrance

I've removed myself from the Mormon church because of many reasons. Women being treated unequally was a main one. Mormon woman after Mormon woman have justified their not holding the priesthood by saying that they don't "feel unequal".  But, in the words of Kate Kelly-- "Equality ISN'T a feeling."  

Equality is a fact. It can be measured. Whether you feel it or not. It's there. You can decide not to be bothered by it. You can even deny it. But you can measure it. You can gauge it. You can see it--even if you refuse to feel it.

Women cannot bless and pass the sacrament.

Women cannot preside over general meetings.

Women cannot baptize people.

Women cannot bless their babies.

Women cannot perform ordinances in church houses.

Women cannot heal the sick by laying on of hands.

Women cannot be called as prophet.

Women cannot be called as Bishop.

Women cannot be in charge of the money.

Women cannot know information in the temple that men know.

Women cannot attend meetings meant for men 

(though men can attend any meeting meant for women)

The group of 200 met back at the park and sang "I Am a Child of God"

I have chosen not to live in that world. That world where I am given a list of rote answers to solve all my questions. A world that dictates what I can do with my body. A world that tells me that it is only through them that I can gain salvation. A world that tells me No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

Leaving that world was one of the hardest things I have ever done--but leaving that world was necessary for my extreme self-respect. 

Tonight, I attended the "Ordain Women" event to record footage of history in the making--to record my many sisters who love, honor, and cherish this church as a major part of their world. I hugged them. I shared their tears. I felt for them. I saw the faces of dedication. They are the pioneers of this battle for equality, and I honor them. I send them all my love and pray that they soon will have a place at the table with the men. Soon. ORDAIN WOMEN.

The Grand Finale of My Teaching Career

Yesterday I went to Subway for lunch because I can't bare to cook or clean, let alone shower ( please note: I did shower) at this point in the year. School just needs to be over. My OPUS is finished. My decade + of teaching has reached it's grand climax and the resolution is wearing thin.

While I was telling the man to hold the lettuce and load on the tomatoes, the girl behind me asked the sweet sandwich maker,

"Does the turkey sandwich come with cucumbers?"

The man, who's first language was Spanish, really tried hard to understand this question, but he (and I both) looked perplexed, 

"Excuse me?"

I turned around and looked at the girl...she was staring earnestly up at the photos of the sandwiches. The turkey one pictured, did, indeed have cucumbers on it.

"The turkey sandwich, it comes with cucumbers right?" The people behind her also looked perplexed. The man didn't know how to answer, so he shrugged his shoulders. She responded, "Ok, well, um, I guess I'll get the ham sandwich."  *Please note that the ham sandwich was not photographed with cucumbers.

When I looked at this girl and I realized that she was, indeed, one of my students. She was a normal, run of the mill student (because you may be asking yourself if she needed special help on a daily basis). But, no. She was a normal kid.  Well, normal for Park City, which means she looked like Gisele Bundchen at the beach.

(mini/weird/offtopicrant)I don't really know how these girls do it--to look and dress like they do on a daily basis. They are so slender and wear so few clothes. I'm just perpetually cold when I look at them. But 90% of the girls could be supermodels. It's what they aspire to. Park City is a funny place to all of us regular folk. The women of this town are freaks of nature.  It's either something in the water--or the intermixed gene pool from the Gods or most likely it an eating disorder pact. (endrant)

I looked at this poor girl and the pain in my heart was sharp. Had I not taught her better than this? Had I really not given her the skills to understand that at Subway (and in life) you could have it your way? It was a call to action, and somehow I knew that this was going to be the last (and greatest) lesson I ever taught her (or anyone in Park City)!

"Hey," I said casually, "you know, you can still get the turkey sandwich and then when you get over here (I pointed to all of the vegetable choices) you just make sure they don't put cucumbers on it. You have the choice. You have the choice with whatever you want to have on your sandwich."  I spoke slowly, so as not to confuse her. I felt like this was a defining moment in her life, the moment she understood how to order from Subway and also how to understand what life could be. All the possibilities wrapped up in a metaphor about a turkey sandwich.

I saw the lightbulb go on "Oh! Wow. Thanks, Ms. Bee." The rest of the queue looked relieved. They could move on. I could move on. We could all move on.  And, with that, I bought my sandwich (with cucumbers) and I walked out. 

I feel like I really changed her life.

Sundance Review: A.C.O.D.

1 in 2 marriages ends in divorce.

This one was particularly ugly.

And thus begins one of the first movies that tackles divorce in such a comedic style.

At first glance, one might think a title like A.C.O.D. stands as an acronym for a new kind of hyperactive disease suffered by middle school kids. You'd be almost right. A.C.O.D. stands for "Adult Child of Divorce". If a young children watch their parents go through a messy divorce--how does that affect them as adults? Will they marry? Avoid commitment? 

A.C.O.D. stars Adam Scott as Carter--the son who holds the family together. Carter has had to be the go-between for his divorced parents (played geniusly by Richard Jenkins and the marvelous (and camera shy) Catherine O'Hara) ever since they decided to get a divorce on his 9th birthday. Years later, Carter must try to bring his parents together to celebrate the marriage of his younger brother Trey (played by Clark Duke--who has words of wisdom for young people in the video below).

 

The reconciling of his parents brings an onslaught of issues to deal with from childhood events, to his current love life with his girlfriend, to his attraction to Jessica Alba (can't be helped, I suppose). This film stars Adam Scott, Richard Jenkins, Amy Poehler, Jessica Alba, and the marvelous Catherine O'Hara in one of the most poignant and truthful stories I've seen about family dysfunction. I would definitely take the time to watch the Q & A section in the video I posted....plus, it's the only time you'll see Catherine O'Hara (who was very camera shy on the red carpet). I'll leave you with this little message from Amy Poehler (yes, that's me asking the unglamorous and poorly worded question, but who cares!)

Sundance Review: The East

Clever. Captivating. Innovative. Perfectly Paced. Brit Marling has breathed new life into film with this fresh idea.

This film was satisfying.

How often can you say that?

I first discovered Brit Marling in Another Earth. She was quiet, stunning, and a persuasive actor. Little did I know she had not only starred in the film, she had also co-written it. A flawless beauty, she was tired of being offered parts as "the dumb cheerleader".  So, she started writing two screenplays of her own. She would work on one in the morning and one in the evening.

One of these was The East. It is an utterly and  completely refreshing idea for a film. A woman (Marling) goes undercover to find and expose an American "terrorist" group of young people led by a seeming fanatic (played marvelously by Alexander Skarsgard). It truly is a band of misfits, Ellen Page being the feistiest of them all.

However, what is defined as "terrorism" is questionable at best--and it puts me, as a member of the audience, in a peculiar situation.  What do you do when you find yourself agreeing and siding with the "terrorists" (gulp)? These people have respect for the land and the seas. They want people to protect their fellow man from the big, bad corporations. They target large oil companies who have trashed the oceans. They target large drug companies who sell drugs with side effects that kill people. They, in fact, do what a lot of young environmentalists wish, in a way, that they could do. But, their actions are dangerous and they are illegal....and enthralling as hell.

You'll definitely be surprised and intrigued. This is one movie that is not figure-out-able in the first five minutes. It doesn't follow a typical Hollywood movie plot line. It isn't simplistic and stupid. It's sophisticated, smart, fast paced, and the best movie I have seen at Sundance this far.

(movies and pictures will be added to this post tonight when I get home!)

Sundance Review: Stoker

As a photographer--this film was visually one of the most stunning sequence of composed shots I've ever seen compiled into a single movie. As a human being with a mother and many uncles, this film made me utterly creeped out. So, it was a win-win.

Stoker stars Academy Award winner Nicole Kidman, Mia Wasikowska (I finally know how to spell her name!), and the utterly delightful Matthew Goode. Perhaps the biggest reveleation, however, came in the form of director Park Chan-wook. Many will know him from Oldboy, but will have never even heard of him before. He makes his English directorial debut here at Park City this year. Armed with a translator, he was delightfully charismatic, charming, humorous, and low-key. I loved him.

Maybe it is because I like to explore the complexity of human emotion in my photography work, maybe it is because I like to push boundaries with what people feel comfortable with in their communication, maybe it is because--as a writer and creator--I spend much of my alone time thinking about why humans do what they do and how they do it. Maybe it is all of these things, that made this film so intensely interesting.

Or, maybe it was all the blood. It was shocking, but also not so shocking since I just saw Django Unchained last week. There was a lot of lovely blood spraying all over very pure flowers in this film, and I guess I'm ok with that. I never thought I'd be ok with blood in a movie, but when it's just so lovely and artistic, it sorta gets to me. In a good way. 

At the opening of the film, India (Wasikowska) has just lost her father (Dermot Mulroney) on the day she turned 18. Her mother, Evie (Kidman) is distant, and often cruel, to her daughter. On the day of the funeral, Evie introduces India to an uncle she didn't know she had, Charlie (Matthew Goode). Then everything just gets bizarre. Evie and Charlie have feelings for each other. Charlie and India have feelings for each other. There is a lot of staring. There is a lot of emotion. There is a lot of anger and violence, especially on the part of India. And there is a lot of dysfunction. If you want to feel better about your own dysfunctional family, come and spend time with this one.


Oh, also, this was written by the ever intense Wentworth Miller who starred in Prison Break. I've always liked him.

Sundance Review: Kill Your Darlings

This is a cheesy video I made because I want my magazine to get lots of subscription and YouTube love, so watch it please!

When Michael C. Hall walked into the Eccles Center for his Sundance Premiere of Kill Your Darlings, he was dressed in monochromatic gray sweater and pants, and had a very unassuming nature. He also had a ready smile and talked a lot about his love of the Beatnik icons like Jack Kerouac (played beautifully by ravishing (and tall!) Jack Huston from Boardwalk Empire). He talked about the depths the film goes to in an eloquence that was unexpected. Not only is Hall refeshingly kind, succinct, and interesting--we also give him thumbs up for being well read and eloquent. During one moment, he said, honestly, that it's the one and only time in his life where he looked at the director and said, "Don't be an idiot, hire me."

The director, John Krokidas, is not an idiot. Thank God. Not only did he cast Michael C. Hall, he also rounded up such talent as Dane DeHaan, Ben Foster, newbie Elizabeth Olsen, and Daniel Radcliffe. When Radcliffe took to the stage for the Q & A, a member of the audience asked him, "Why are you drawn to such bizarre roles?" Radcliffe did a sweet little smile and looked like he was about 12. He was good natured and cracked a little joke about how parts he thinks are interesting, everyone else thinks are crazy-weird and that he's a weirdo for taking them. Truth be told, this movie is a far cry from Harry Potter days (thank God, again) and Daniel has a gay love scene in the film. I overheard one girl, a LDS woman from Utah, say as she left the screening, "I feel really guilty because that guy love scene totally turned me on."  I'd say that's pretty good praise when you're in Utah.

Set in 1944, the movie draws real figures from history like Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and William Burroughs together in an intriguing murder mystery. As Ginsberg (Radcliffe) ventures off to Columbia, he's pulled into a world of education, city life, new explorations in sexuality, and a bit of obsession. His obsession centers around a young man named Lucien Carr (played by Dane DeHaan). Carr soon commits an unexpected, but well documented murder that draws Gingsberg in even deeper into a world that unfolds before the audience in a true mastery of story telling. As is true for most Beat stories, the women don't have much to do.

The film started with a poem that one of the producers wrote on a stickie note and handed to his friend. He told his friend he wanted to write this play. His friend said, "Nope, you're gonna write a screenplay and I'm going to direct it." And they did. I like people who's dreams start on stickie notes and end up on the big screen at Sundance.

Taking My Dissatisfaction Out To Dinner

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Last night Lena Dunham, a mere 26 years old, won Golden Globes for best actress and best television comedy for her creation, GIRLS. She has received a lot of criticism and praise for what she’s done. The criticism comes mostly from people who probably want to be where she is and are not. Like those film friends we all have who sit around and critique everything wrong with a movie, but don’t go out and make movies themselves—even though they are always proclaiming their desire to do so---(ooh, laying the slap down on a Monday morning!)

I sat in my fuzzy socks and stretchy pants sipping tea last night and watched Hugh Jackman, Anne Hathaway, Christopher Waltz (bravo!), and Claire Danes (again!) win these little statues of validation. I admit. I was envious. I just sat there.

Sat and thought about my writing career which doesn’t really exist. Sat and thought about my photography business (which is still so tiny).  Sat and thought about my role in helping women in this world. Sat and thought about all the big dreams I have and how so many of them are in the process of coming true—but how there is always a sense of dissatisfaction in areas where people would be shocked to know you are dissatisfied.

While many people try to avoid feeling the dissatisfaction—or drown them out temporarily in chocolate and alcohol (and yes, I’ve definitely done both), I’ve grown to savor those tiny dagger-like feelings that creep into my psyche ever morning and every night. I’ve learned to temper them, feel them, thrive from them, and make changes based on them. Dissatisfaction, in a sense, has driven my life since I was 7.

Some people might think it sounds awful.  Some people might raise eyebrows at me and inwardly feel bad that I embrace such feelings. But the artists out there, those artists, they raise a glass in camaraderie with me.

Do you know what's already happened this year? A million Beethovens were born. A million Oprahs. A million Einsteins. A million Florence Nightingales. A million Martin Luther Kings. And a million Madame Curies, to name just a few. Each as capable of moving mountains, touching lives, and leaving the world far better than they found it.

But which ones will have the courage to do whatever little they can each day, with what little they've got, from where they are, before their baby steps turn into giant leaps for the legions who will follow them?

I truly believe it’s the ones who feel a little dissatisfied every day--and that dissatisfaction drives them to ultimate creation.