identity – Black Mormon Female

‘Cause I Gotta Have Faith

January 4, 2014January 4, 2014Posted in Black, Female, Mormon, UncategorizedTagged anxiety, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, conversion, fear, Friends, God, identity, Latter-Day Saint, perfectionism, religion, women1 Comment

I started this post this summer, and since it is still a relevant topic 6+ months later – Im going to leave what I initially wrote and then weave in where I am now. Its prob a weird idea, but im too lazy to start it up from scratch.

BEFORE – An easy pick given the topic: George Michael.

This post is inspired both by the difficulties Im going through in life in general and this blog post I found on my facebook feed. Im not going through anything more difficult than the regular up and downs of life. The anticipation of something new, moving back home after being out of my country for 3 months now, being bored, stressed and dealing with relationships. Nothing new, but sometimes they all combine together to make you lose hope and faith in yourself, others and the possibility of a better world.

Ive been greatly irritated by the stupidity of men in general this week. Nothing new – but most of the program Im helping run out here is male interns this year and the conversations are gross, the commentary banal, the actions disgusting and Im seriously wondering if this is my fate for eternity, to be surrounded by the immature, or if it ever gets better. Therefore I got upset at the Best Friend who is often the number one propagator of such grossness and his sidekick, who thinks he’s hilarious, and kicked them out of room. I was told I was over-reacting, controlling, think Im better than others and a downer. All of these things are likely true.

Combine this continued annoyance, with being sick from foreign food, sinus headaches, the lack of connection with the place, dealing with finding housing with a roommate from 6000 miles away and trying to help the BF get his shiz together for school – I may need to go home and cry for a while. Instead, I am obsessively watching Vampire Diaries from season 1, which is definitely easing the pain.

AFTER – Now im obsessively watching other shows – all hail Netflix! – but the anxiety has been extreme. It may have been connected to my mother’s visit – it does tend to be somewhat distressing, given how long she was here. But work has been stressful as well. And the shear uncertainty has been exhausting. I met with my bishop last week. I told him the reason I havent been coming to church is because I have no idea how to be Mormon anymore; I dont know how to fit in and not feel awful about myself everyday. I dont think its exactly the church’s fault, but I still havent exactly figured out how to make it work. He gave me a blessing that I would have the courage and confidence to do what I needed and make the connections to come back.

In many ways, I am not the girl who started this blog. Although I dont always feel a lot has happened, I guess a lot really has. Its been 6 months at my first job, its a large adjustment to the corporate world. Its been a long time without my friends near by and the process of making new ones is just a drawn out one, even though I have met some really great people. I still love this city, but the anxiety has taken control and its hard to enjoy anything. I had this moment the other day where I saw who I needed to be. And it was beautiful. This girl who was quietly confident, serene and sure of her place in the world and not running around like a nutso trying to gather up enough pieces of love to get by in the next few mins, hours, days. I saw children and how much I would love them and how important they would be to me – which is a very different feeling than I had before, when I did not know how I would feel or what I would want. I saw this future for myself that was more than all the things I wanted for myself, and I felt some peace that there was still a path forward for me. I wasnt sure what was left – I didnt have any specific goals for myself recently other than to be good. Not just a good person, but really good at stuff. But I havent been able to think past the feeling of being terrible at everything, which no facts seem to support, but my brain keeps wandering back to.

Theres a way through this and that was a glimpse at what was beyond, but until then there is a curtain of solid anxiety between me and there. There is going to be a way through to that other life, but lots ahead for me. So Im not the same – I was bold before, now I feel timid. I was full of sharp edges about what I believed, now Im softer less aggressive. Im slowing down and trying to figure out whats going on in my life, so I can get to the other side of the curtain.

Im not upset about going to church tomorrow (its a Saturday here), Im not upset about where I am. Im just frustrated sometimes, but not angry any more. Thats why I think its time. Im trying to get back to where I was before, but better. So things may sound different coming from me now. Im changing, everything is changing. I dont see the topics changing, but who knows where I will come down on it? Ok, most things havent changed that much – but I may just be less angry about it all. 🙂

Hopefully thats still of interest to you reader. Happy New Year! Lets see what 2014 has to offer.

You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman

February 13, 2013February 13, 2013Posted in Black, FemaleTagged beauty, Black, California, Chris Rock, curly, female, Gender, good hair, Hair, Hawaii, identity, style, Utah, womenLeave a comment

My newest thoughts brought to you by Aretha Franklin. So for me the point of this blog is to talk about all three categories of my fabulously obvious title. So I try to mark by category what I think each post refers to although there is apparently massive overlap. Hard to tease them out in my life.

Today’s topic: Good Hair. I still havent seen Chris Rock’s documentary (on the list), but I have mostly whats considered good hair. Its curly and crazy, but it grows pretty long and stays straight with enough heat and no humidity. When I was really little, I used to cry everytime my mother tried to comb through my hair, and my sisters and I wore it in a ton of random braids sprouting out of our heads with the bubble bands that used to pop your finger and hurt terribly when you missed. But in 7th grade, surrounded by mostly white students with awesomely straight hair I desperately wanted to wear my hair out.

Thus began my Fridays of sitting 3 hours in a chair, while I was burned by extremely hot combs that sat in little metal ovens. You would sit in various chairs, while the sylist feathered other people in and out of your appointment time. It took HOURS to get it straight, and then no washing for as long as you could stand it and then back to the chair. Its a different life than most people – everything dries out black hair and scalps, so the less washing the better – and it does handle oils better than most white hair, but still it gets dirty. So every two weeks back in the chair. I tried relaxing it once in 8th grade. That resulted in me cutting most of my hair off, as it was damaged, not at all straighter, and it never grew past my boob again. It used to be all the way down my back. Im still occasionally sad about that experiment.

So I kept up that schedule – the chair and two weeks, through volleyball practice, track meets and summers, until college. Going east one would think it would be easier to find someone to deal with my hair, but even black hairdressers there had problems. So I started washing it on my own and trying curly every once in a while – in a big ponytail at the back of my head. It was crazy. And then when I moved to Utah – I let a white stylist handle it and it wasnt so bad. It didnt get as straight as it used to in California or for as long, but it was better than straightening it myself, which was never going to happen.

That story may feel fairly benign, but its amazing how much all women define themselves by their hair. Maybe because it takes so long – men can buzz their heads look like an idiot for two weeks and then its over. Hair grown back. Women are sort of committed to those bangs the second the first cut is made. I dont think even I realized how much having crazy frizzy hair was bothering me until I went to Hawaii, and I saw the Islanders walking around with their version of combed out fro. It was like heaven, and the first time I saw a white girl with her blond straight hair I was incensed. What were they doing here ruining the minorities’ good time? Ive never so quickly irrationally hated a person or group except for that first week in Hawaii. It was like paradise marred by the people I had finally escaped. The feeling of having found my people, my place was lanced every time I saw straight short skinny mainlanders. I got over it eventually, but its probably why I like New York. It feels like freedom from an oppressive standard – and while it may not be their fault, its certainly stiffling to try to live amongst them as one who can never conform enough, even if I wanted to. Genetics is drawing that line in this instance.

So I finally gave up. I mean a bad short haircut saved by me figuring out that curly hair actually worked in it forced my hand, but still, in the past year and a half its never been straightened. Its a whole new world. I didnt do it to reclaim an identity or make a statement – it was too much money and time to maintain the straight look and I decided I no longer cared. Its amazing how much my hair means to people. To my mother, born two generations ago, its claiming “bad hair” and looks wild and crazy and unprofessional. To her, Im giving up the fight to assimilate in and gain the privileges her generation fought for but so clearly showcasing the things that are different between the two races. On the other hand, I get so many compliments I get on my hair from all people. Black, white, asian, etc who just looooove how much volume I can get and how it just seems to work. For me, I love waking up each morning to the ever growing mass, sticking in a few random bobby pins and going outside. Its my own liberation from myself and the norms I thought I had to live by. Now I spend my money trying new curly hair products – I still swear by Kerastase and now Devacurl – in case anyone was wondering.

So now there are people who know me who have never seen my hair straight. Its funny how we can change so much so fast – even though it seems so small. Maybe one day Ill go back to the occasional blow out, but until then, freedom is looking pretty – literally.

I’ve Been Trying to Get Down to the Heart of the Matter

February 3, 2013February 13, 2013Posted in Female, MormonTagged Black, church, conversion, Daily Show, equality, faith, God, identity, Jon Stewart, Latter-Day Saint, Mormon, religion, societyLeave a comment

English: President Barack Obama tapes an inter... — English: President Barack Obama tapes an interview for the Daily Show with Jon Stewart at the Harman Center for the Arts in Washington, D.C., October 27, 2010. (Official White House Photo by Pete Souza) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A cover by India.Arie. So I was still mad today, until I spent some time at church and with some of my really good female friends, and then – the final kicker – went and stared at the temple for a while. It calmed down some of my anxiety and extreme anger to the point where I could see that I was stronger than I had been. Which makes all the nonsense worth it. Let me tell you another way.

Sometimes I imagine my future appearance on The Daily Show about my book (assuming its still running when I end up mattering). I have my mug that I will cherish forever in front of me on the desk and Jon Stewart props up my book and says, “So I read this book and I have to admit my first thought when they handed me this book was, really? there are some? enough to write a whole book about?”

The audience will laugh, and I’ll smile while taking a sip from my mug. Then he’ll say “But seriously, why are you a part of this church? You’re smart – you have to have heard about that ban against black men holding the priesthood? And remember when you guys were against gays? Preventing Boy Scouts from getting their Eagle Scout? Or when women received death threats for wearing pants to church?”

I’ll lean forward and this is what I’ll say, “So you want a logical answer for why I participate and believe in a religion that seems to be constantly be preventing some group or another from feeling accepted and equal and whose membership sometimes reacts badly to efforts to express and change the circumstances which cause those feelings?”

Jon nods or says something snarky. It is The Daily Show after all. “Well, Jon, there isnt one.” And Ill sit back. Eventually he’ll follow up the question and Ill answer for real. “Jon, faith isnt logical. It cannot be arrived at through thought alone or reasoned with. Most of the things we have faith in we have no control over. Sometimes past experience supports our faith – the sun came up yesterday, gravity existed last night – so all these things will most likely happen again tomorrow. However, we dont know that, we just know that they have, so our best bet is to assume it will again. But sometimes we dont have reason to fall back on, we have to take a leap to believe the voice or hope inside of us could be true and right and we jump forward into nothing. That is why I participate and believe. Because one time I jumped, and something/someone caught me.”

The interview will go on and on – we will talk about how I cant stand soda so I never think about the caffeine rule (even though Im addicted to Vitamin Water Zero’s energy burst, which is tons of caffeine). And whatever else is in vogue about Mormons in that day. But I will have told the truth. When I was small and everything else that supported me failed, and there was no earthly way to go on in such a world, I took a leap of faith that a God loved me, and He knew me and He was in charge and would make things alright if I just kept moving forward and listened to him.

Things didnt get “better” for a long long time, not until recently, like the last 5 years, would I say I finally was becoming whole. I spent a long time trudging forward with no idea of what happiness felt like. I remember a week in college that I felt light and looked up, and thought, “Is this what everyone else feels like all the time? This is sooo much better!” It wasnt permanent, but it gave me hope. God has continued to hold my hand and lead me forward through the darkness until I arrived at a point, where I feel like the world is mine. Ive never been happier and more excited for the future, despite being scared out of my mind, because everything that comes next is nothing like what came before. Its another leap of faith, but this time I know God will catch me. Just like He did tonight – he eased my heart and reminded me of how far we had come, and how great Now is given all the crap that came before, so think how much better Then will be if I can survive this.

So I stay. Because the organization lead me to God, and the God that I have come to know I will never leave. No characteristic about me, black, female or smart, will change the relationship I have forged. The religion and I will work it out, but the God that I love will never abandon me, despite how it feels to bear the hardships I may be called to experience, like dating, or dumb friends, or Utah. Its been ok thus far, and its only getting better.

Oh, My God Becky Look at Her Butt it is Like Soooo Big

January 31, 2013February 13, 2013Posted in BlackTagged ask, Black, equality, fear, Friends, identity1 Comment

Sir Mix-A-Lot.

Cover of "The Legend of Bagger Vance" — Cover of The Legend of Bagger Vance

I used to love this blog in college, but heres the post I want to talk about today. Its an oldie but a goodie. Maybe the most difficult thing for Mormons, and Im sure other people too, is to figure out how to talk to black people. I mentioned in an earlier post, when I first got to Utah, people liked to tell me stories about random Black people they knew. Babies and children of all sorts stare at me when I go to Costco – Ive seen them crane their heads around their parents to get a better look. Them I dont mind, its not their fault they have never seen someone of a darker hue before. But lets just say, I no longer go to Walmart in some parts of the world, because its just much too much uncomfortable.

I am often the only Black person at the events I attend, and Ive experienced the annoyingly eye-rolling to the jaw-droppingly racist, so let me give you the primer on what I do and do not like, and you can see if it generalizes to anyone else. 1) I hate being ignored. In one class I was in a girl from Arizona said she just didnt address directly differences of her friends, because she was scared of offending them. My response to her was, if we are actually friends, then let me teach you how to treat me. Its no different than anything else you have to learn about me – where I like to eat, what movies I will go see, and oh yeah how I talk and feel about this huge piece of what the world defines me as. I dont want people to be color-blind, because then it feels like you are pretending Im just like you, and Im not. I would like to be able to talk about those things that are different from you, whether its how much lotion I put on (a ton) or how often I wash my hair (not a ton), without feeling awkward about it. So maybe you dont know what to say: well I promise to be forgiving, if you promise to make an effort.

Numero dos: Wait until I say something racist first, and then laugh, because I eventually will, and it will be funny. Like when my friend makes a comment about their being only one white free safety left (whatever that is), it works, but if I say it then we’d all be awkward. Its probably true, but its mean. Its bad if you say something racist first, then I have to decide if Im going to be the bigger person, and I honestly will probably not talk to you again. But when I say it first, like when I told my best friend that I was his magical negro (see Will Smith in Bagger Vance and Morgan Freeman in everything), well then its funny, because its true. Then you can laugh at me while I eat fried chicken, but not before.

Three: I have no idea. Lets pretend this is like the Dave Chappell Show and you can ask a black girl. This could be fun. It will be an ongoing thing. Put your questions in the comments section and Ill get back to you.

I Am 32 Flavors and Then Some

January 28, 2013January 28, 2013Posted in Black, Female, MormonTagged Black, Hispanic, identity, Mormon1 Comment

Today’s Song: Ani DiFranco.

I was flipping channels and CNN is broadcasting an installment of Who is Black in America? It made me think of my own decisions about how to identify myself.

Sometimes I tell my friends that I am almost the world’s most perfect minority. In addition to being Black, I am also Hispanic. A female, Mormon – all I need is a different sexual orientation and I wouldve hit the affirmative action jackpot. But being Mormon means saying I’m Black isnt simple, especially since I was raised outside of a Black community. In addition, not speaking Spanish, and having no connection to my father’s family, I have difficulty with claiming the Hispanic identity. In high school, my friends called me double-stuffed, which never really bothered me because it seemed accurate – I was Black on the outside and extra Mormon on the inside.

Going to college was the first time I was around a larger Black community, but my favorite comment when I told them I was Mormon was, “Um… you know you are Black right?” I still think its funny. I mostly hung out with minorities there – even the Mormons were minorities, mostly. But I didnt feel really connected to the Black students – I wasnt from NYC or Chicago or DC. In one class that was almost entirely Black, I was the person saying, “but Im sure they just dont understand and they arent deliberately trying to be awful.” Im pretty sure most people rolled their eyes at me and asked me why I was so conservative and naive. We were all having a tough year.

Choosing an identity under these circumstances is difficult. Once the social structure of being in the smart athletes group of high school was gone and the large Mormon social world disappeared once I moved East, it seemed harder to maintain a coherent identity. Add the normal part of growing up and deciding for yourself who you are – it just combined to make a frustrating stew. Politics aside, I read Barack Obama’s Dreams From My Father during college. Really interesting good read. That book helped me think through who I was, so I could contain all the different parts of me in a way that might allow me to be whole.

The truth is Im probably not ever going to be one thing. I love other cultures too much to choose just one. Later this year, Im finally going to be leaving the country for the first time in 11 years to visit the Middle East and Im sure that will add another layer to the complexity. At this point, I embrace it. I used to think it was terrible to always be standing on the edge of the group. I went to college hoping to find people like me, and matched on different characteristics than I did with those I grew up with, but there was never a perfect alignment. Now, even though its still lonely sometimes, I realize that not belonging to any one group means I can belong to all of them (almost). From my perspective, its God’s gift to me. I will never lack for friends and a sphere to influence, because Im not restricted to any one area.

Im sure I will talk about identity again, since this was just a small random sampling of thoughts from the past 30 years. Im sure there are other ways to think about this than how Ive come down. So tell me – how do you craft your individual N of 1 status?

“Who is Black in America?” Soledad O’Brien Tackles Racial Identity on CNN (clutchmagonline.com)

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