Photo: Chelsea at 8 yrs old
I came home from school and plopped my backpack near the entry-way closet. I ran into the kitchen moving my head back-and-forth to feel the ribbons in my pigtails brush my face. My Dad was sitting on the stairs of our Tooele, Utah house and he opened his arms inviting me to come join him. It was such a sweet moment. I remember feeling very special that I got his undivided attention.
He asked me, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I’d never been asked this question before. I knew I had to use this precious time wisely before one of the rug rats crawled in and stole my opportunity to shine. With little hesitation and the desire every kid has to make their father proud I confidently proclaimed, “The President of the United States!”
It was the first grand profession I could think of on such short notice and I still remember puffing up my chest up high and beaming a bucktoothed smile when my dad nonchalantly said, “You can’t be the President. What will your husband do?”
I didn’t know. I’d never really thought about it. As my chest slowly deflated, I guessed, “I don’t know. He could be with me?”
“But who will watch the kids?” my Dad explained.
Again, I’d never really thought about it and didn’t know what to say, so I just mumbled, “Yeah” and sat their seriously wondering “Who can watch the kids? C’mon think. Think. THINK.” But soon his attention was diverted and he was gone.
I never did come up with an answer for him and he never again asked me what I wanted to be. Up until this point in my life, I pretty much thought my father was God—omniscient, loving, always right, fun, etc. But something deep down inside my little 8 year-old body knew that he was wrong about this. I could be the President of the United States if I really wanted to be. Why did being a girl change anything? I didn’t feel any different from the boys I knew. Why would it be good for them and not me? I mean it wasn’t like I was really going to be President of the United States, I knew that, but it just killed me that there was already this opportunity that I couldn’t have just because I was a girl. Rather, an opportunity that the only man I loved, my dad, didn’t think I should have. At 8 years-old I came face-to-face with a shattered vision of the American dream, I realized that things are different for girls than they are for boys. It made me sad and then quickly, the way kids do, I changed my mind. I thought, “Who says he’s right anyway?” I gave credence to my own deep intuition and decided early that maybe boys aren’t always right about girl matters.
This poignant memory stayed with me throughout my life. Not the specifics necessarily, but the idea that I would have strong promptings throughout my life that were seemingly contradictory to my priesthood leaders.
It wasn’t that I was being disobedient. That is not in my nature. I love the church. I follow my leaders. I’ve always taken their counsel and advice very seriously.
The problem was that the very same mechanisms I had been taught to recognize as spiritual promptings—that I had always trusted to guide and direct my life–did not always align with those of my priesthood leaders. One example of this is after much prayer and pain I decided not to marry a former longtime beau. During this time I received much counsel from my college bishop, my home ward bishop, my institute professor, and my beau that encouraged me to get married. Each time one of my leaders questioned my personal revelation I would go back to the drawing board and start over. I would “search diligently, pray always, and be believing” (D & C 90:24). After much struggle and genuine desire for guidance, I arrived at the same conclusion each time. It was very confusing to me to feel like I was following the correct spiritual process of being directed by the Lord, but that my answers were different than what my priesthood leaders thought they should be. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that we were both right. My leaders general counsel was inspired, i.e. marriage is good, however, so was my personal revelation, i.e. who I should marry.
Similarly, I realized that this was how my Dad was trying to communicate all those years before. It wasn’t that he didn’t want me to become the President or didn’t think I was able, it was that he wanted me to realize that family was the most important thing. HowevWith that counsel in mind, it was also right for me to listen to the spirit and with my husband decide what that meant for our family life.
This realization has helped me through many big decisions in my life- none more poignantly than my struggle with being a feminist (simply meaning, one who believes in the equality of men and women) in the church. While the foundation of this belief is founded in basic gospel principles and reconfirmed via heartfelt study and prayer, gender inequality is something I regularly see perpetuated by church members. Most of these incidences are seemingly banal and, like the examples above, it sometimes takes me a long time to figure out the essential message in seemingly prejudice general counsel. I know that many members and leaders are even benevolent in their prejudice, in fact many women in the church are content, but it nevertheless makes me feel like a second-class child of God and an enabler of these ideas by doing nothing.
This has been a major challenge these last couple of years in my life. I have often felt discouraged and alone. The cognitive dissonance between equality and the church made me feel hurt, less valued, and, ultimately, upset. I would leave church meetings feeling frustrated rather than uplifted. At one point I felt that the two were mutually exclusive, I was at a crossroads and had to make a choice. They were both equally strong impressions. I felt torn between two things I loved and believed in deeply. At first I decided the church was more important. I tried to relegate my feelings into the “We just don’t know everything on earth” category and ignore the inequalities I saw. I did this for awhile but it felt like every time I would hear or see injustice or the consequences of gender discrimination in the lives of the women I knew a little piece of my spirit crumbled and died. I wasn’t being honest with myself and it was eating away at my soul. Eventually, I weighed my options again. There was nothing about the equality of women— in their divine nature or earthy treatment— that I felt was incorrect. Equality was intuitive, Christlike, a fundamental right. How could I go against this?
I did, however, harbor doubts about the church’s relationship with underrepresented minorities. There have been many wrongs that have been righted over time. That is why we have continued revelation. But why hasn’t this been the case with women? I also struggled with whether or not I wanted to raise my daughter in a society where she could not play a full and equal role and where she was taught that this was justified. I began to wonder if I might have to leave the church.
I mourned this decision. I wept. I felt like there was nowhere for me to discuss such things. At church I didn’t want to disrupt the spirit or diminish what little respect people had for me. Whenever I brought up my concerns with church members my faithfulness and obedience was questioned, when I brought it up with non-members it was my sanity they doubted.
Fortunately, God knew more than all of the above. If you remember, earlier he had helped me trust my spiritual promptings and marry the right person for me. I was very open with my husband about my challenges and frustrations. While it was hard for him to see me suffer and to watch me change, he supported and loved me throughout.
One day, I told him my decision about feeling like I would have to leave the church because, “I would never join a group that institutionally promulgated and culturally constituted inequality. So how can I stay in one that does?”
His response was beautiful and inspired, “But you are American.”
“What?” I thought I heard him wrong.
“Well, the US has often structurally and culturally mistreated minorities and women, which you are morally opposed to, so why do you stay?”
His question gave me cause to think deeply and humbly.
“You are right” I said.
I thought about it awhile and explained, “I stay in America because there are so many things about it that I love and believe in. There are also many things that I disagree with, but I feel like I have the power to help change those things.”
“So why can’t you do that with the church?” was his response.
“Maybe I can.” I thought.
And thus began another year of struggling to figure out my place in a male-biased hierarchy. I know that I have no right to receive revelation for the church. I trust that my leaders are inspired, but I do not presume they are omniscient. Maybe I was right in 2nd grade, “that boys aren’t always right about girl matters”. Maybe the only way to cause change is if enough women made their leaders aware of their struggles—that they agonize over their love for the gospel and their feelings of discrimination, that their exclusion from many hierarchies and rituals in the church make them feel inferior, that they desire to fulfill the measure of their own creation, that they cling to the belief that they have a Heavenly Mother and hope to know more about her, that being single or childless or secondary to their spouse makes them feel like they are not good enough on their own, that gender is only one aspect of who they are, that there is so much more that they can contribute to the church if allowed, that they hope continued revelation will be used on their behalf, and that if we are all sacred in the eyes of God, why does it feel like we are treated so differently here on earth?
This year has been a little easier. I have found more harmony and joy in being an LDS feminist. I have a bishop that respects my intuition and a Relief Society president that views it as an asset. I am doing my best to honor God by following both the spiritual promptings he sends me as well as those he gives to church leaders. This isn’t always easy and I don’t know why I am particularly prompted in this area. Connecting with other women who are aware of and seeking answers to these questions has been a huge blessing to me and my family. Participating in LDS WAVE helps me to feel like I am not alone and that together we can make a difference.
I plan on teaching my sons and daughters that family is the most important thing in the world and, hopefully, when they tell me what they want to be when they grow up gender won’t matter.
Such an honest and thoughtful representation of the struggle many of us have faced, or are now facing. Thank you for sharing!
dear chelsea,
thank you so much. i really really needed to hear this today. to read your thoughts gives me hope. but mostly it gives me courage.
i constantly have to reevaluate my reasons for staying in the church with so much inequality staring into my face. and it always comes down to the same principles: if i wait for an institution, a nation, a realtionship etc. to be perfect then there is no place for me in this world to go.
so, i am staying. not because the church is perfect. not because it is true (what does that even mean?). but because that is where i can find and be close to god. and because it is my church, too.
best,
rahel
Chelsea,
I really enjoyed reading this. Thanks for sharing. Have you ever read the book “Dads and Daughters”? Any dad (or mom) of a little girl ought to read that book as it helps point out the sometimes unintentional things that we say or do that can make our daughters feel like second-class kids. It has helped form my own view of my daughters’ futures. When I ask our 4 year old what she wants to be when she grows up, the list includes doctor, dentist, veterinarian, bus driver, and mom. And if anyone can do it, she can.
This is beautiful. It said so succinctly everything that I’ve felt. Thanks.
You should consider sending a version of this as a letter to your favorite apostle.
i absolutely love this, thank you for sharing this experience. having been away from the church for nearly a year for the same reasons you list above, i’m feeling a tug to come back, to try to balance it again and realize that it doesn’t have to be black and white, in or out, good or bad. i think so often within the church we come to the conclusion that we can either do it all perfectly or we need to get out.
Beautifully written Chels:) I believe in you so much! I love you & I love being your sister.
p.s.—-you could SO be the president one day. don’t write if off so fast.
…just never make a sex tape, because that is one way to kill a campaign;)
Inspiring. Know that there are lots of men in the church who feel the same way. Along with the message you’re sharing, the message needs to be shared that we men suffer from the inequality we all (often inadvertently) perpetuate. Men can never reach their divine potential – can never reach their earthly potential, the joy and progression available here and now – without relationships with women wherein we participate as equals and fully facilitate one another’s progression.
I do take some exception to your last line. I think gender should matter; just very differently from the way it does now. Gender is not like, say, eye color.
Chelsea, I LOVED this! Thank you so much for sharing. It’s so interesting to see where you’ve come from and the good you’ve taken from your upbringing and where you’re going with it.
“I wept. I felt like there was nowhere for me to discuss such things. At church I didn’t want to disrupt the spirit or diminish what little respect people had for me. Whenever I brought up my concerns with church members my faithfulness and obedience was questioned, when I brought it up with non-members it was my sanity they doubted.”
That paragraph made me want to cry for you. I wish I could have been someone you could have turned to. I’m so glad you feel you have support now and that you have direction given to you from God and that you didn’t have to leave the church to get these things. So excited for more of your writing. Love you!
I’m thankful that my parents never tried to claim that I couldn’t be whatever I wanted to be. My mother (a convert) strongly encouraged me to finish as much education as possible before getting married and hold off on children. DH and I married after our first year in graduate school and after we both finished PhDs, we have not felt the prompting to have children.
Right now, I keep as quiet as possible in church meetings because my brain-to-mouth filter is getting less effective as I enter my late 30s. Based on the direction of discussions in GD/RS, I know that my perspective is not wanted. I try to remember that I am there to renew baptismal covenants and that any relationships that develop are nice, but not required.