That Great Day When There Will Be An End to Patriarchy

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by Shawn Tucker:

Imagine if you woke up one morning and it had all rolled back. Your wife no longer had a job or even interest in having a job. She was at home patiently waiting for orders from you. Instead of having her own thoughts or plans or ideas, she lived only to serve and support you. All of which is to say that she was very, very dependent upon you. She did little or nothing without your explicit or at least tacit consent, down to the smallest activity. And imagine that your daughters, if they were not married already to men who ruled their lives, then now they are underpaid and disrespected nurses or elementary school teachers. You may have a daughter off at college but, by her own admission, she’s only there to get her “Mrs” degree. Your daughters, in fact all of your children, are as dependent upon you as your wife. They do little on their own without seeking first your approval. For every decision in the family, whether great or small, you must make it alone. You might talk to some other men about it or maybe look in the scriptures for some guidance—books written by men for men—but patriarchy demands that you make every decision and that every decision be flawless. This is the world where father must know what is best in every situation and all the time and for everyone involved. This is patriarchy, and it puts an impossible demand and weight on men while it robs women and other powerless people of participation and of a full voice in making decisions.

Dear LDS Church: What Have You Done?

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by Luke Warmer:

Dear LDS Church: What Have You Done?

Even for a church that believes homosexuality is a sin, this decision is a deeply heartbreaking head-scratcher. (See article of faith #2. The one that talks about their own sins and not Adam’s transgressions.)

If I were to guess, I would assume that this decision is born out of some fear of legal action from gay parents. And as church members we are left to wonder what it means when it appears that the church has compromised the spirit of the second of its Articles of Faith in order to be better positioned in a culture war against homosexuality.

I feel a deep concern for every gay child being brought up in the church.

For me, as a person with gay marriage on both sides of my family and three boys at home (ages 7, 4, and 1), I am left to debate whether I can attend a church in good conscience knowing full-well that the likelihood of at least one of my children being gay is much higher than average.

This is a heartbreaking day for families hoping for deeper empathy around the issue of the church’s stance on homosexuality.

Advice For My 16 Year-Old Son About Stepping Up His Game w/Girls

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by Shawn Tucker:

The only thing more awkward than this post about helping my son learn how to be confident talking with girls is the fact that I discussed these ideas with him recently when he was trapped in the car with me. It is interesting to watch your child consider the implications of throwing himself out of a car going 65 miles per hour on a freeway. Luckily he chose to smile, nod, and think of something else while I gave him a version of the following advice. And now I’d like to spread the awkwardness around the interwebs. Here’s my advice to a 16-year-old modern Mormon young man on how to step up his game with girls:

1. Be 16. What this means is be patient with yourself and allow yourself to grow into being someone who is confident with women. Frankly, 16-year-old girls are like 16-year-old boys, and, yes I will say it, most girls are just as awkward around boys as you are around them. And hey, you like them, so…

2. Keep in mind one goal: helping her feel at ease, safe, comfortable, and getting to know her. When you are getting to know a girl your age, keep in mind that your goal is to get to know her. Do what you can to actually listen to her. Care enough about what she’s saying to hear it and to perhaps even show her you’re listening by remembering what she says and say it back to her. You can go a long way by later on saying something like, “I remember when you told me that you quit playing soccer because you had such a bad coach—that must have really sucked for you!” Saying things like this show you care enough to listen and think about what she has told you, but keep in mind to be genuine about this, since the goal is helping her feel safe and at ease.

SCOTUS - Reflecting on My LDS Friend and His Two Moms

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by Mike Maxwell:

I grew up in Holladay, Utah in the 1980’s as a member of a pretty conventional Mormon congregation. In my 9th grade year, a new family moved into the neighborhood and a 10th grade boy (I’ll call him Doug) from that family began attending our Teachers Quorum. Doug and I shared common interests in sports and music and quickly became friends. I recall many evenings shooting baskets in his driveway with Molly Hatchet blaring from the car stereo in the carport.

I visited Doug’s home a few weeks after meeting him at church and met his mom. She was nice to me but seemed an otherwise unremarkable woman. I asked Doug about his dad and he told me his mom and dad divorced when he was a kid. His dad worked in the Las Vegas gaming industry and he rarely saw him. He didn’t seem to want to talk about it further so I did not press him.

After a few more visits to Doug’s home, I realized there was another adult woman living there. Over time, I learned that the woman and Doug’s mom were a couple. My 14-year-old Mormon boy self had no frame of reference for “lesbians” so I just kind of rolled with it. I got to know them better and found them to be considerate, caring, pleasant people who were as dedicated to raising a good son as were any of my other friend’s parents.

Fathering Sam

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by MAB:

"Why do you want me to bleed daddy?"

This is what my then 5-year-old son said to me late one afternoon. For the third time I had told him to come inside to get ready for bed. When he didn't respond I grabbed the rusty old watering can he was playing with and headed inside, fuming about my paternal incompetency. Pausing at the back door, I realized that I didn't want to take the rusty old watering can in the house so without thinking I tossed it back toward the play area. As I did so, the handle broke and the can flew in a different direction striking my son's forehead. He started bleeding immediately and we were both shocked. When he noticed he was bleeding he asked me why I threw the can at his head and why I wanted him to bleed. I explained it was an accident but he was still very confused and in pain. I was crushed by his words and my actions. I couldn't get in touch with my wife, so I found a baby sitter for the other two kids and took him to the emergency room to get stitches, and to endure the questioning stares when he told the nurses and doctor that I threw a watering can at his head.

Almost a year later we were at a parade when a pirate ship came though firing off an extremely loud cannon. This scared my son so badly that he jumped in my lap and hugged me very tight for about five minutes as the spectacle inched past and out of range. I hug my children every day if I'm not away on a business trip but there was something different this time. I felt forgiven and I felt like he trusted me to protect him. I felt his trust in a way that I'd never felt before.

About two years later we are hosting my brother-in-law and his family as they visited our new home city of Amsterdam. It was the week before Christmas and we decided to visit the festive city center. There were hordes of people doing last minute shopping and enjoying the sights. About an hour into our adventure my sister-in-law noticed that our child count had dropped from 7 to 6 and we discovered my boy was missing. We quickly retraced our route but after 10 very long minutes of searching he was nowhere to be found. Fears entered my mind as we fanned out down crowded sides streets and alleys. At one point I imagined him alone sitting in some dark alcove crying for his family. As I passed each building my worries grew as various scenarios – none of them good – played out in my head. Then, in the crowd I saw two officers coming my direction and they had my son between them. I ran to him and picked him up without saying anything to the officers. I took him in my arms so I could make sure he was all right. I tried to ask him how he was doing but I was so emotional all I could muster was an inexplicable donkey bray that embarrassed my son.

What do these stories have in common other than my middle child? It's hard to describe but I think it has something to do with depth of emotion or perhaps emotional peaks and valleys you experience as a parent. You hear that parents love their children the same but I'm not sure that's true. I love them all tremendously and maybe the quantity is the same but the quality is different. And when I say quality I don't mean good vs. bad quality I mean the nature of the love seems different. With my middle child, at least for now there are lower lows and higher highs and although things have plateaued as of late I get the feeling that events are being foreshadowed and that fathering him will always be a roller coaster.

Please share similar stories or share your thoughts on mine.


MAB has fond and therefore suspect memories of living his pre-teen years in rural Central Utah with his five brothers and one sister. As a teenager he moved with part of his family to the suburbs of Salt Lake City then left for a mission to Honduras. After barely surviving that he went to college in Rapid City, SD then married an open minded Californian who helped put him through graduate school in Seattle. He currently resides in Amsterdam with his wife and three children and has a hard time figuring out if he'll ever leave the land of bikes, canals, tulips and clogs.
Image credit: Pierre Lognoul (used with permission).

Till We Meet Again, Bravermans

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by Eliana:

Talking about television is a bit tacky but I’m doing it anyway. The NBC show Parenthood has just ended a five year run. I’m in mourning. For those of you not in the know, Parenthood is about the Braverman family—two parents, four grown children, and their families. Problems ensue. Happy things happen as well as challenges. It is the most realistic depiction of family that I think I’ve ever seen on television.

Before I open this up to comments about what we each love about the show or different characters, let me get into some of my reasons. I am not going to list characters, though I’m tempted. Wikipedia is helpful for that sort of thing. I’m not going to tell you to watch it, though you should. Everyone has a different comfort level and sometimes people on Parenthood do not follow all the standards in the For the Strength of the Youth pamphlet. One of the reasons I like the show is because there is follow through: actions generally have consequences. Kind of like real life.

• Forgiveness: People hurt us. We can move on. In the show, as life, this doesn’t have to be fast or simple but in order to move forward in our relationships, we have to do it.
• Family: The people who know us best, at our best and our worst. And they love us anyway.
• Plans: Go ahead and make them. Maybe life will work accordingly but maybe (probably) not. You have to roll with it and not give up.
• Love: Such a complicated thing. Loving people who are jerks. Learning to love. Allowing someone back into your heart. Loving at different stages. Love, sweet love.

I hope I’m not the only Parenthood fan out there. That would make me sad. I should be offering t-shirts for commenters but I’m just not up for it right now. I want to hear about your favorite moments that spoke to you, like a very accurate portrayal of how it feels to be a sibling to someone on the autism spectrum, for example.

We’ll miss you crazy Braverman clan. I know a way your family can be together forever, if you’d like to learn more.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best. Twitter: Eliana0Eliana. Website: elianaosborn.com.

What Church Dads Do

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by Richard Tait:

We have never lived near family. From the day I left for the Korea Pusan mission over three decades ago I never lived more than a few weeks at a time with those who raised me or who were raised with me. A product of the BYU marriage factory, my wife and I headed for Maryland seeking fame and fortune and a family of our own. All we found was our own tiny family of four; we have spent the rest of our days out here, always at least a long day’s drive away from grown brothers and sisters and their own burgeoning family tribes. Likening the scriptures unto ourselves, I identified somewhat with Book of Mormon Jacob: “the time passed away with us, and also our lives passed away like as it were unto us a dream, we being a lonesome and a solemn people, wanderers, cast out from Jerusalem, born in tribulation, in a wilderness.”

To survive in this lonesome world on the East coast, we were forced to adopt ward families—communities of saints with shared beliefs and values, all who ably performed as stand-in brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, grandkids, cousins and grandparents. Just as all of us are adopted into the house of Israel, local ward members have been adopted into the house of Tait. As we grew in the gospel and served in the church, we adopted many individuals and families as our own. In particular, when I served as a bishop, I developed a fatherly love for many of the youth and young families it was my privilege to serve. Through the miracle of social media, as a proud “church dad” I can track the joys and sorrows, the opportunities and challenges, and the accomplishments and setbacks of my adopted children as they raise their own families and move forward in their professions and relationships. I revel in their progress and successes, and mourn with them in their variety of trials.

Help!--Staying Together for the Kids

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by Quietly Grieving in Zion:

My wife and I were married more than 20 years ago, and we have several children. One child is a returned missionary and another is currently serving. We have a teenager at home and one who will soon be a teenager.

My wife and I have a relationship that has steadily deteriorated for years. We really have no relationship any longer; we are not even friends. We don't talk or enjoy one another's company at all. We used to fight, but now we don't really care enough for that. We went to couple's therapy less than a year ago, but that ended poorly for me. Recent events have made it clear to me how unhappy I am with her. She was recently gone for about a week, and I could not believe how relieved and happy I felt to not have her in the same house. I also feel much more effective as a father when I'm not around her.

I want my children that are still at home to spend as much time as possible together and with her. I also want to be with them as much as possible. That leads me to desire that we stay together for the kids. Staying together would also be easier financially and socially. But I have found myself counting down the years until we can separate. I also have tremendous loneliness, anxiety, and grief over the death of a relationship that I thought would last forever. I believe it would be easier to grieve as well as move on if I could separate, but, of course, I'm afraid that that would be selfish.

I'm not expecting anyone to answer this for me. I pray about it all of the time. I'm considering seeking professional help to assist in determining whether I should stay for the kids or insist (against what I believe are my wife's wishes) that we separate. Many of you have experience with this that may be helpful. Please share. I anticipate the widest variety of responses; please leave your experience as a comment. Please provide your ideas in the most honest and loving way possible without worrying about how others might respond or how others' experiences may differ.

Thank you

Image credit: BK (used with permission).

The Worst Gifts

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by Eliana:

Remain anonymous if you must, but this is a safe space for sharing. In the church we talk a lot about the best gifts—service and such—but not much about the worst ones. Things under the tree frankly have nothing to do with the true meaning of Christmas, so lets come out of the shadows and speak truth.

My mother-in-law gave me a pair of queen size panty hose one year for Christmas. I was not remotely queen sized. That was the entire gift.

I looked early at my gifts only once in my whole life, 8th or 9th grade. I was getting a hideous bright purple long dress coat and a Gameboy. At that moment I realized that my parents knew me not at all. I spent the next week or two trying to come up with good reasons to return the ugliest coat known to man.

There's one other horrible gift I can think of but I'll save that for if we get enough comments coming in. Please share. We all need this after busy weeks of lots of travel and family and cheeriness. Now real life has to come back. Spill the beans: worst gift this year (hello coupon book for service from anyone over the age of 15) or of all time.


Eliana Osborn was raised on cold weather and wild animals in Anchorage, Alaska, setting the stage for her adult life in the Sunniest Place on Earth in Arizona. She grew up in the church and didn't know there were places where conformity was preached. She has degrees. She writes. She teaches. She has some kids. She even has a husband. She's trying to do her best.
Image credit: Kasia (used with permission).

An Interview with Jared Garrett, Author of Beyond the Cabin

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by Eliana:

Jared Garrett has recently published a YA novel titled Beyond the Cabin based on his own experiences growing up in a cult offshoot of Scientology. I've followed him over the years as he's gone through draft after draft, editorial hope and crushed dreams. I read the book, even though I don't read much YA, and found it interesting—especially when coming from an LDS author even though the church has no part of the book.

Eliana: Beyond the Cabin ends much earlier than I would have hoped. Why do you choose to end it then instead of after a successful escape?

Jared Garrett: Long answer to this, but it's at the heart of everything in this story. Please bear with me! Beyond the Cabin was a tough story to write. For one, it's sort of my story - particularly how I would have preferred to have handled my experience in the cult. Another reason it was challenging is because the story takes place over around 4-5 months, but it includes events that happened over a ten-year period, in a very different order too. So I had to find the right story to tell—the right arc for Joshua to travel as he comes to terms with his life and circumstances. But I also needed to make sure that the story was true to who he was and who I am.

The truth is I never escaped, per se. I did a lot to gain control of my personal, inner life and eventually by extension my destiny. From age 10 to age 13, I subsisted on fury and bitterness. I realized my temper was a mess, so I started studying the Dao and meditating. Through that, and honestly through some of the stuff the cult had us do, I found control over my emotions, eventually finding a way to switch them off. After gaining this control is when I started truly seeing the cult around me with open, clear eyes. At that point, I had for all intents and purposes escaped from their control. I didn't do punishments. I ignored tyrannical edicts. I let adults scream at me while I smiled at them.

MoTab Muppets Christmas Concert

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by Quinn Rollins:

I haven't ever been to a Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert. In between my dislike of crowds and the feeling that I get about ten hours of choiring every April and October (I know the choir doesn't sing at every General Conference session, but some kind of choir does), I feel like get my fill. I've heard good things about them, but choir music just isn't my thing, man. I've heard good things about their Christmas concerts, but I figure I'll let someone else take those tickets who really wants to go.

This fall when they announced the guest performers for the 2014 Christmas concert, I knew that would change. Because it was my people. Friends I had grown up with, who I looked up to, personal heroes and co-conspirators and teachers. The Sesame Street Muppets. A guy named Santino Fontana was on the bill too, but you throw in nine of the most famous characters in television history, and they're going to take over the show. So I started plotting.

Feminist Club

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by Eliana:

My entire extended family on the maternal side got together for a reunion over Thanksgiving. It was fun, I chatted a lot, yada yada yada. My mom has four sisters, no brothers. They are loud women with lots of opinions. My mom is probably the most mellow which I can't believe I am even saying. I've grown up with strong, interesting women for my whole life—and all of that generation are active in the church.

My little cousins (by which I mean Grown Women Younger than Me) cornered me and asked if we could have dinner together one night. A girl table! How fun! Not having to eat with children! This is how Nichole and Abby presented their offer:

"Eliana, can we have dinner with you tonight so you can teach us about Mormon feminism?"

How can a girl say no to such a request? I let go my laughter at the idea of having anything to share or having any special knowledge on the subject and agreed to go for it.

Best. Conversation. Ever.

A Response to Reid's Religious But Not Spiritual Post

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by Anonymous:

Dear Reid,

I am, by your definition, religious but not spiritual (RBNS). I'm writing because your post on November 25th cast too wide a net in calling out those of us who "draw near unto [God] with their lips, but whose hearts are far from [him]."

Like many church members who gained their testimonies gradually over time, I lost mine bit by bit over a period of years. What began with a series of small doubts as a teenager culminated two decades later with a personal admission uttered quietly to my reflection in the mirror: "I no longer believe the church is true."

When people lose their testimonies, we often attribute it to bad information or bad choices; or we just say that they never really had a testimony in the first place. In my case, and in the case of many others, none of these describes what actually happened. I did have a real testimony, I only read literature that was historically accurate, and I maintained the high standard of personal worthiness that the church requires. I lost my testimony because, after long periods of study and reflection, I was unable to reconcile church teachings with history, science, and the state of the world.

Happy Thanksgiving in 32 GIFs!

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by Scott Heffernan:

It's Thanksgiving! Yay!

It's important to spend quality time with family…

And stay connected to your siblings.

The Child Welfare System

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by Eliana:

I went to family court with a sister from my ward recently. She's working a plan to get her children out of foster care and back home with her on a full-time basis, after more than a year of only visits.

I was there to support, nothing more. And it was hard. It isn't a good situation for anyone involved. Waiting for our turn in the courtroom, we ran into another couple from our ward. They were having a hearing about the foster child they are in the process of adopting.

Our time in front of the judge was brief, mostly making sure that progress is being met, with check-ins from five or six institutional entities: case worker, guardian ad litem for the kids, attorney for mother, attorney for absent father, and more. It was exhausting to me even though I had no personal involvement in the issues.

Ten years ago my husband and I became licensed foster parents in Arizona after hours of classes, building a higher fence around our pool and numerous other small home changes, background checks, and letters from friends and relatives vouching for our sanity. We agreed to take a sibling group, up to three children, since they can be hard to place together. I quit my job.

Then … nothing happened. Our case manager essentially disappeared; no one would return our calls. We had a paper saying we were legit and legal but it didn't seem to matter. A few months later we got a call to do an emergency placement: little baby, just for a weekend, while her regular foster parents had to leave the state for a family event.

There was very little sleep on my part—baby was only eight weeks old—but otherwise our three days went very smoothly. When I had to give her back, meeting the foster folks in a Walmart parking lot, I knew she was safe and sound. 72 hours, maybe a little less. Still it was extremely hard to hand this baby over.

At that moment I realized that foster care was not going to work for us.

MMM Library: Choose Your Love, Love Your Choice

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by Pete Codella:

Something President Monson said in General Conference recently really stood out to me. He said: “Choose your love; love your choice.”

He made this comment in regard to the concept and importance of marriage to members of the priesthood in the General Priesthood meeting. I have witnessed many different marriages and divorces - even subsequent marriages by those who have already ‘been there and done that.’ Sadly, we’ve heard much reported lately about married, powerful, well-known men who have had affairs and, as a result, caused all sorts of damage to their families and communities.

Rather than define marriage or discuss problems caused by infidelity, I’d like to share my personal experience with marriage and why I agree with President Monson that once you’ve made the commitment to be married you should love your choice — both your choice to be married and the person you married.

I had the privilege of traveling with the BYU Young Ambassadors for three years while I was in college. I thought, even hoped, I’d find my eternal companion among the ranks of that talented ensemble. But alas, it wasn’t to be, and I’m certainly grateful for that. After college I spent a couple years chasing my Broadway dream in New York City, working to support myself and continuing to sing, dance and act when given the opportunity. Then, at a fortuitous moment, a job at BYU’s Performing Arts Management office opened up. I applied and was ultimately offered the job.

Guest Post: Remarks on the Passing (and Likely Suicide) of My Son

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My son, Maxwell Defiance Landbeck, was killed early the morning of July 13, 2014. I’ve written about Max before, about our troubles. This post is my effort to make sense of his death. To find personal context and peace with it, to see the meaning in our loss and grief. It is comprised mostly of the remarks I gave at his memorial service, though I've included a few passages from the eulogy his sister read (the entire eulogy is here).

"Grief is the natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at their suffering or death. The only way to avoid grief would be to not experience the love; and it is the love that gives life its richness and meaning."

A little over two years ago, Max was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. In the months prior to that, he struggled with substance abuse. It is now obvious he was self-medicating. The burden of bi-polar disorder is swinging between depressive and manic episodes. For Max, when he was Manic, he would become delusional. Delusions of different realities, grandiose visions and fantasies. He was never violent, but pursued his bizarre notions no matter how strange or dangerous.

When Max would use drugs, even marijuana, he became even more delusional. But he sought out bizarre drugs, custom hallucinogens, spice, gleefully experimenting with substances that were not technically illegal. During these years, family and friends tried to help him, offering him a place to live if he promised to quit for good. Max was easy to love, but difficult to live with. Addiction is a terrible burden. He could not resist the draw of trying drugs one more time. Each time Max was certain that it would help. Each time he was terribly wrong.

In the very early morning of Sunday, July 13 Max was struck by a freight train and killed instantly.

Forging the Generations Through Indexing

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by Bradly Baird:

This past week, I finished indexing my 4,000th record for FamilySearch. I didn't believe when I started the process in March of this year that this simple task would become a part of my daily routine, much the same as reading the scriptures or personal prayer. It really only required me to index about 15-20 records a day, which takes up about 20-30 minutes; and, as I work, I am filled with the spirit of Elijah and can feel "hearts turning" as prophesied by Malachi. Incredibly simple!

I also started arbitrating records for my stake, since each stake unit is responsible to arbitrate its own indexed records. This is a little more daunting task because the final word on a submitted and published record is mine. However, the deeper I move into the tasks of arbitration, I feel the process reflects the principle that, "in the mouth of two of three witnesses, shall every word be established." I am learning to rely on the Spirit when faced with the more difficult choices.

So, the time has come for the thousands of you who view Trip-M to get with the program and start indexing through FamilySearch (if you are not already involved). Indexing is not difficult and does not take up much time, once you establish a regular pattern; not to mention that the process can be somewhat addicting once you get rolling. You will feel the Spirit of Elijah.

"The Spirit of Elijah is a manifestation of the Holy Ghost bearing witness of the divine nature of the family." (Russell M. Nelson)


Bradly Allen Baird is the father of two amazing children and has been married for almost twenty years. He served a mission in Finland, though he was really supposed to serve in Uruguay. His professional meanderings include everything from education to economic development, to human capital management in the IT industry (hopefully this one sticks); and spends his Saturdays hanging out with the missionaries in Provo, or racing back and forth between his children's activities in tae kwon do and elite cheerleading. Bradly also survived an MBA program; developed a somewhat limited interest in music, theater, film, urban planning, judaica, liberation theology, politics, israel, and latin american history; studies the influence of graphic imagery on public space; wrote a thesis about Leonard Bernstein, is obsessed with the American Symphonists, and reads publications like The Tablet and the Jewish Daily Forward.

Swagger Wagons

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Good news to all readers on the fence about buying a mini-van because you think they're not cool.

I Still Believe

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by Eliana:

We visited my aunt a few weekends ago and one of her kids, my cousin, is living there with his kids for now. First question after not seeing each other in a year? "Are you still Mormon?"

I email a friend from high school for tips about visiting Hong Kong, remembering that he served his mission there. "If you are still Mormon, a lot of people like to see the LDS temple there," he replies.

I am an active member of the church, a temple recommend holder, mostly every Sunday kind of gal. I keep getting questions from people in my life about my current religious state of being. The first few times I brushed it aside has a reasonable catch up question, but it keeps happening so I'm thinking about it a bit more deeply.

• I wrote about my general sense of God last year for MMM
  
• I don't talk about my faith on Facebook or pretty much anywhere. It is close to my heart and not something I feel casual about. I feel guilty about this, especially with all the emphasis on sharing the gospel.
  
• I feel like I exemplify a Christian life through my actions and life choices. Is that not clear to those around me? Is there something I am doing or saying that leads others to think I am no longer a practicing Mormon?
  
• Many of my friends and associates have left the church, for a variety of reasons. I think I have been less obnoxious about it than most so these people feel comfortable talking to me, which may explain some of the questions I get. Am I a magnet for the disaffected?

I try not to be offended when asked about being a saint, except that it makes me doubt myself a bit. From some, the assumption is that I am 'edgy,' I have just two children, I work in academia, any number of signs that they don't think match up with being LDS.