One evening in the fall of 1975, our ward’s MIA ((Mutual Improvement Association, equivalent of today’s Young Men/Young Women.)) held a “New Era Bowl.” We’d been instructed the week before to read that month’s issue of the magazine to prepare for a competition, guys against girls. A moderator would ask questions, anybody with the answer would jump to his or her feet, and the moderator would call on the first one standing to give the answer and win the point.
That was an easy assignment. I read the magazine anyway, and that week I read it extra carefully (note that in those days, it was a magazine with text articles – illustrated, to be sure, but with far more text and far fewer infographic-style visuals or sound-bite features than today’s magazine). I laid the magazine aside when I had finished … but then thought a moment and picked it up again. I read it through a second time, paying attention to the details that nobody in her right mind would notice: I learned the names of the authors of the articles, and noted the wards and stakes where various news events had occurred, and memorized the page numbers where articles appeared. I was going to be ready, even if the questions got tricky.
The competition was lively, and I jumped to my feet with the answer to almost every question. I wasn’t always the first on my feet, but I scored often enough to be noticed in what was to me still a new ward (we had moved to Las Vegas only in July of that year). For the first time there, I was noticed.
After a while, when the moderator wanted to wind things down, her questions became trickier. “Who wrote such-and-such an article?” “What ward held the service project doing such-and-such a thing?” And even “What page was that on?” Now I was sometimes the only one jumping up with the answer. I racked up the points for the girls’ team.
Then Bishop Albright came and sat down on the bench behind me. When the next question was asked and I tried to jump up, he put his hands on my shoulders and held me in my seat. Everybody, it seemed, laughed. I giggled, too. But then he did it again on the next question, and the one after that, and it wasn’t funny anymore. He would not let me answer any more questions. “Give somebody else a turn,” he said. The girls still won, but I didn’t contribute any more points.
It took me quite a while to understand why that bothered me so much – and it did bother me, despite my joining in the laughter. I finally realized that if, instead of the New Era Bowl, this had been one of those far-too-frequent evenings when the boys played basketball and the girls’ only role was to watch and cheer, Bishop Albright never would have gotten involved that way. If the star basketball player was racking up basket after basket, he would have cheered with the rest. He would not have physically restrained that player from trying for another basket. He would not have insisted that that player “give somebody else a turn.”
Still later, when I had had other unpleasant experiences, I realized that the pressure of his hands on my shoulders, the physical restraint that put my movement in his control instead of my own, was just as wrong and should have disturbed me just as much. I was too naive as a 16-year-old to recognize those danger signs of being physically overpowered.
I had literally been made to sit down and shut up, when what I was doing should have been cheered and encouraged: I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do, and I had gone above and beyond what others had done, but I wasn’t allowed to compete and shine.
I’ve been thinking about that incident again during this season of unrest. What do we do, even within the Church setting, to hold each other back? Why do we let others hold us back, sometimes even long after an event is over, when we absorb that message of “sit down and shut up”? How can we be more conscious of sustaining and uplifting and encouraging each other, especially in the Church setting?
Wow. This is incredibly thought provoking and I’m going to work now but will be thinking about it and probably reliving a lot of painful memories all day!
Yikes!
I will never ask you to sit down and shut up because I know that you think before you speak and that you cherish the right to share your thoughts. In the world we reside too many people appear to have no working filter or sense of crudeness. Thank you for a ‘voice’ that I seek out everyday, that teaches what I seek to learn, that supports the other voices I trust, and that challenges me.
I won a New Era Bowl (individually) as a 12-year-old and the ward just thought I was weird.
Ugh! That’s the WORST.
Thanks for writing this.
I have not been surprised; in fact I’ve been quite embarrassed for my many acquaintances, mostly other women, who have been telling other women to sit down and shut up the last few days. I do wish they were more self aware.
Sorry about your childhood experience, but what a useful story for this point in our history. Thank you for sharing it.
It is so difficult to know what to say, Ardis. I’m so sorry. But I’m glad that you wrote this up. It is important.
Oh Ardis! What a gut-punch. I am so sorry, and I wish I had been there as I am now, where I would have intervened and roared on your behalf.
It was an honor to carry your name on Saturday, as I walked hand in hand with Abigail, who loves you.
I was at a lecture this week where the presenter talked about how we all recognize that adolescents are growing, their brains are growing, they are pumped full of hormones, etc etc and yet we put such pressure on them “behave.” It made me think a lot….but your post here illustrated that in such a visceral way. He was literally physically pressuring you, controlling you, and trying to teach you to be less than you were. My heart hurts. This should be a wake up call to people who work with youth to be so very careful with these developing children.
I live in Las Vegas and my bishop is also named Albright. He told me Sunday that I could not hold my baby for his blessing in our home. I did it anyway. Because when it comes to my body, my children, and my voice, I try to resist any person who tells me to sit down.
Ardis, you were ASKED to prepare. You were doing what your leaders had asked of you. “This” type of thing is why I had such a black eye so often in the ward where my children grew up, because if their bishop had done that, I would have walked up & quietly reminded him that the ward leadership had ASKED my daughter to prepare & she had, & to quit punishing her for doing what “he” had asked her to do. Then I would have stood between him & her if he tried it again.
Barring the “soft, quiet, “appropriate” approach working, I would next have accused him of “cheating” to help the boys – not quietly – & he would have had to back down.
Returned sister missionaries were not well thought of in the area where we raised our children – we were “too pushy” – so I often figured I had nothing to lose.
“I finally realized that if, instead of the New Era Bowl, this had been one of those far-too-frequent evenings when the boys played basketball and the girls’ only role was to watch and cheer, Bishop Albright never would have gotten involved that way. If the star basketball player was racking up basket after basket, he would have cheered with the rest. He would not have physically restrained that player from trying for another basket. He would not have insisted that that player “give somebody else a turn.””
Actually, the only reason I got to play any basketball at all with my ward young men’s team was because my bishop insisted that the coach give me time on the playing floor in place of better players. (That would be every one of my team mates.) The players fiercely resented it, I took the hint, and stopped coming to the games.
What a great story (if heartbreaking)! By contrast, we have E. Nelson’s talk to the women of the church “A Plea to My Sisters” in which he exhorts: “We need you to speak up and speak out.” No wonder such a plea is necessary.
Prepare and speak up! . . . But not too much. Let others (who aren’t as prepared) take a turn. Why are you hogging the limelight? Why are you being competitive? Sit down. Shut up. Or as E. Ballard recently said “Now sisters, while your input is significant and welcome in effective councils, you need to be careful not to assume a role that is not yours.” Or as he said in a later address: “Don’t talk too much.”
Your leader’s physical restraint of your enthusiasm for the gospel is illustrative.
Oh, Ardis! This story makes my heart ache for you. I had similar experiences in my northern Utah ward during the early 60’s. Thank you for telling it. That the sting of such an incident can resonate across four decades should be a cautionary tale for leaders and for us all.
Thanks for this.
Having not been raised in the church, it is helpful to understand what tpp many have endured.
There are a whole bunch of different things going on at once. As Kent G. Budge points out, some people do apply the principle of sharing participation opportunities in sports. But in a lot of cases, even grown-ups who should know better are openly admiring of those who have natural sports abilities and those who have developed them through careful effort. But these same grown-ups are sometimes openly scornful or hostile towards those whose natural talents and developed ability tend toward ‘book learning,’ even when that is the very thing those grown-ups are trying to encourage.
Also, being a teenager is rough and mortality stinks and life isn’t fair.
Here is one of my stories. I was in a rather rowdy Sunday School class. I didn’t really know how to cope with it. Nobody paid much attention to the teacher, and they certainly didn’t want to be caught answering questions. Unfortunately, the teacher would back himself into a corner in which he would ask a question and then refuse to go on until someone gave him a reasonable answer to that question. I can see a number of ways around that situation, but at the time, he didn’t. He would ask a question and then beg and plead for someone to answer it so that he could move on with the lesson.
I knew all of the answers to his questions from previous church attendance, Family Home Evening, and family scripture study. So I would answer a question or two and then feel the glares of the other class members and decide that I had said quite enough and vow to be quiet. But then the teacher would ask another question only to be faced with silence. He would ask again and again, his voice going up in desperation each time. Finally, when his voice had hit a really high soprano range, I would raise my hand, answer the question, and he would go on.
And so it happened, week after week. I put up with the negative vibes from my peers to help out the poor teacher. And then one day in joking around with the other kids in the class, he referred to me as a ‘know-it-all.’ As you can imagine, that was pretty upsetting. Yes, I did actually know it all–so far as what he was trying to teach us, because none of it was new or difficult. It was boring. But the only reason I answered questions instead of being bored in silence was to bail him out.
That was near the end of the year, and we switched teachers shortly thereafter. I don’t remember the teacher’s name, so I have no idea if I ever ran into him again. That’s good. I think the story is valuable, but it’s not worth personal anger at him.
I find two lessons in this sort of experience.
1) People do stupid things. I do stupid things too. They don’t necessarily mean any harm. Usually they just didn’t think through the implications of their actions.
2) These experiences have a long lasting effect. Even though the person being stupid didn’t mean it, the results of their actions can influence the people they put down for the rest of their lives. So it is beneficial to look around and notice that there is a long dead hand on your shoulder keeping you down. Recognize it. Think about it. Then throw it off, or maybe just sink your teeth into one of those fingers!
this is such a powerful and heartbreaking story. I’m so sorry that happened to you and so grateful for this post addressing what you’ve thought about it and how you’ve processed it. Thank you!
I don’t know your bishop, but you may be judging him too harshly. You think he wouldn’t have acted the same way had it been a basketball competition. Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve been in mutual activities where a teenager, wanting attention, raised his or her hand up every time, chimed in with answers every time (both right and wrong). The other teens quickly clammed up, and it took some proactive effort to get them involved again. I didn’t put hands on the youth and make him sit down, but I put figurative hands on him by not calling on him, by admonishing him to let others have a turn at answering, and so forth. Years have a way of coloring our memories. You look back and see yourself as someone enthusiastic, well read, prepared, and obviously the best person to answer questions for the girls team. Someone else observing the activity could have easily judged you to be a know it all attention seeker who selfishly would barely let the other girls have a turn at answering. You seem to imply it was a boy versus girl thing. Yet, maybe your bishop noticed the other girls weren’t even trying to answer because you had effectively taken over the team. You wanted to recognized, to compete and shine (and presumably enjoy the recognition that goes along with that). Nothing wrong with that, unless it’s become more about you than about your team. Maybe he was being a mysoginist jerk. Or, maybe you had crossed the line of being considerate to your fellow team players. I don’t know that either version of the story is correct, only that something that happened about 40 years ago may not remembered fairly or interpreted correctly. Unless you have other significant bad experiences with your bishop, you might reconsider your taking offense at his actions. And no, I don’t generally agree with physical restraint, though being the father of five, will admit to having to physically restrain my children at various ages and under varying circumstances.
As to the questions posed at the end of the post: We have pride. We’re self conscious. We get embarrassed. Some people have tact. Others lack any diplomacy at all. I don’t notice a stifling of expression too much at church as long as the expression relates to worship. It’s when the expression drifts to non-worship that tends to create dissension. I have no real answer to except to exercise patience with one another as we work out our salvation.
I’ve always claimed that if you haven’t yet been offended in the Church, just wait.
Unfortunately, some members experience ridiculous situations such as the OP early and often. What a tragedy. Too frequently, the root cause is unrighteous dominion. Another frequent culprit is Mormon culture. I think we all know of Relief Society/YW activities that have been shut down or asked to move due to “priesthood” activities taking precedence. Or the less-active or non-member youth turned away from a dance because some chaperone judged their clothes as inappropriate, and they never came back. Or the well-groomed deacon who is asked not to pass the sacrament because his dress shirt is blue rather than white, so he quits coming altogether. Ugh!
Less obvious–but equally controlling–boundary control can occur with the looks we give each other when someone asks uncomfortable questions in Sunday School, or gives an honest testimony lacking the standard “I know.” Or for using “you” and “your” n prayer rather than “thee” and “thou.”
No easy answers to how to fix the problem, though.
Okay, I was going to accept all comments without response, but IDIAT, I can’t let yours pass.
I was there; you were not. The rules of the game were that ANYbody and EVERYbody could jump up if they knew the answer; the moderator would call on the first one up, girl or boy, and if the answer was right they won a point for their team. I wasn’t keeping anybody else from jumping up just as fast and answering any question asked.
Yet you, as so often happens, imagine something else going on. You invalidate my memory with some twisted version of rules I described in the post itself. You defend actions that you didn’t see. You condemn me for behavior you didn’t see, and you have done it in vicious, personal terms. You demonstrate the worst kind of unrighteous judgment.
It’s time for you to take a long, long break from Keepa. IDIAT, sit down and shut up.
[Keepaninnies, don’t respond to this, please. If you use the offender’s name in your comment, your response will go straight to oblivion.]
I’m so sorry that happened, Ardis. I am angry on young Ardis’s behalf. Shame on that bishop. I wonder how many other times he decided to silence a woman or young woman in other settings.
As I read this account I could only think what present-day Ardis would do and say about that hand on her shoulder. It would be thorough but brief words which would get the job done in short order. That Ardis brings a satisfying relief from the frustration of being held back.
I’ve reflected a little on the many ways in the past I was the hand on my own shoulder, and I have been trying to change that, and find a way outside my sheltered life to do something more significant than cultivating my own little plot. I have lots of good examples around me, and you’re one of them. Thanks.
Thank you so much for sharing your experience and for giving all a chance to empathize.
I think what you’re supposed to do when a man suddenly grabs your shoulder from behind is seize his wrist and use his own forward momentum to flip him over your shoulder. That would be seriously awkward in a church setting, but epic nonetheless.
LauraN FTW!
Grant: Ha! We are kindred souls, us.
There have been enough times and places when I got to experience the joy of being the “star player” (on an intellectual level) that I can identify with Grant.
There have been enough other times that I have been made to sit down and shut up that in my adult life I began to hate Sunday School, for no other reason than the fact that even if I limited myself to just one comment per class, others would begin to notice me, and I have been conditioned to experience notice as strongly negative.
Lately– the last couple of years– I’ve begun to feel that the way to overcome my hatred of being noticed for my knowledge is to talk more. This is agony for me. Even the thought can make me feel like vomiting. In the actual event, I may home afterward and cry, or write very sad poetry, or both.
But this is what I’ve learned: knowledge is the Lord’s, and He kind of expects me to act like I know that is true, no matter what the people around me think. As I told some girls in a sixth grade gym class last year, if you don’t play baseball because the people around you don’t think you should, then you are saying that you agree with them.
People are so stupid sometimes when they realize that an activity is not going the way they thought they would. When I think of the CES director who made a particular decision that impacted my life permanently, just because of how downright hypocritical/mean it was, I don’t really want him to rot in hell; I just wish that he could understand THAT it made a difference, and that I was not as worthless a human as his actions seemed to indicate. On the other hand, like Joseph who was sold into Egypt, I cannot deny that at this point, I am way ahead of where I would have been if that hadn’t happened to me.
One of the things I worry about a lot, actually, is that I haven’t fully turned that bitterness over to the Lord. I hope, I hope, I hope that I can forgive, because I am never so sure that I won’t also do something as stupid. I feel like the best I can do at this point is to focus on that good outcome, but also to take a warning from others’ stupidity, and do as much better as I can manage, when I have the chance to make decisions about young people.
And one of the specific places I’ve felt like I should speak up is around here. So, thank you for that.
P.S. Jewish boys think smart girls are sexy. I’m just saying. This particular Ephraimite might be a little bit envious, in this small instance…
That is seriously messed up. Thanks for sharing the story with us, and sorry for the horrible treatment the young you received.
Thank you all (well, almost all). If I could revise this in a way that wouldn’t confuse some of your comments, I would clarify that this incident didn’t “offend” me except in the sense of “whoso shall offend one of these little ones …” I mean, I didn’t get angry, and this didn’t directly affect how I felt about the bishop (heavens — I even went to work for him in his law office a few months after this incident.) I didn’t — and don’t — think he had any intention to harm me, and certainly he wouldn’t have expected me to remember this for hours, much less decades.
But it bothered me for a long time, until I could put into words what it was that bothered me. My introverted nature is the kind that ruminates, that needs to sort out these things and understand them — and that’s a feature of introversion, not a flaw. It changed who I was, though, and that’s the pity — I became more quiet, less likely to let anybody see who I really was, less likely to shine, or even to try to shine.
And judging by the response here, and through private email, I’m far from the only woman who has been made to know in no uncertain terms that it is not okay for us to know things.
But guess what? We still know things.
I needed this tonight. Thank you for being so articulate and thoughtful.
Great, great post. Thanks for writing–I’ll be sharing.
I just got online and this was the first thing I read. My heart cried when I read it at the way you were treated. I can’t remember this ever happening to me, but maybe it did. All I know is that even now, I try not to answer too many questions in a RS or GD class for fear of people thinking I’m trying to be better than they are. A lot of teachers ask questions that are so obvious to all of us that nobody wants to give the answer and I won’t help the teacher out. I’m sorry that it was a bad experience for you.
Sorry, no one should have to go through an experience like this. It makes me think a lot about how I may have acted badly in the past. Troubling story on multiple levels.
And then I think of what you have accomplished since that time, and it reminds me of a sign that I saw on the news from the Seattle Women’s March on Saturday. It showed a young girl of about 10 holding a sign that said, “I don’t need anyone to swoop in and save me from a dragon. I am the Dragon, and I will eat you whole.”
You are the Dragon.
Ardis,
Your personal stories are always my favorite entries. Your honesty and willingness to expose your humanness touch me deeply. I hurt with you and your experience. I am impressed that your ruminations enabled you to develop such a powerful voice and especially that you always turn these experiences into encouraging ways to improve our interactions and relationships.
-How can we be more conscious of sustaining and uplifting and encouraging each other, especially in the Church setting?-
I suggest that we be aware of when it is happening to others and bravely intercede and stand up for them. Unfortunately, it is often easier to stand up for someone else than for ourselves. But this act will strengthen us collectively.
Thank you for blessing my life.
Good post. As is typical of many of the experiences you share with us, you’ve inspired much thoughtful reflection on my part since I first read it. Thank you for sharing.