Alone and Unobserved

After the first part of last night’s vigil was over, a group of us walked over to the west side of Washington Square and held up our signs for passing cars to see. I ended up standing between an ex-Mormon lesbian and a non-Mormon lady from Virginia. We discussed the political/religious climate in Utah, and the ex-mo and I expressed our displeasure with the closedmindedness of the locals. The lady we were talking with was a little surprised, and said that she had actually been able to talk quite civilly with many Utah Mormons, something she was not able to do with, say, Southern Baptists. I allowed grudgingly that Mormons weren’t quite as closedminded as SBs, but still! (When I talked with him last night, Craig said that Baptists will tell you to your face that you’re going to hell, while Mormons will just think it, or whisper it behind your back. I suppose I agree, although I’m not sure which is worse.)

Well, the ex-Mormon lesbian walked away, and the lady from Virginia and I started talking about Mormon theology. She mentioned that she thought Mormons “had it all sewn up” with the doctrine of baptism for the dead–there’s an escape route for every person! I tried my best to explain what Mormons actually teach on the subject, and I think I did a pretty good job. Not as glib as when I was on my mission (I kept saying “we believe” and then interrupting myself with, “I mean, Mormons believe”) but I think she got the general idea. Afterwards, she said that she was going to tell her Mormon friends the next day that a “gay Mormon ex-missionary” had explained Mormon theology to her. We laughed at the idea, and that led naturally to a discussion of our various current beliefs. She, it turns out, attends what she called a “Unity Church” that she and her husband started in Virginia. I, it turns out, am an atheist.

I was a little disturbed, maybe even offended, by her reaction to my atheism. (It is probably important to state here that the lady in question was probably in her fifties, while I am twenty-four.) Her response was, “Well, I guess we all go through agnostic periods in our lives. I know I’ve gone through agnostic phases, and even atheistic ones.” Hey, lady, just because I’m young doesn’t mean I haven’t though this out! I’m not going through an atheistic phase any more than you are going through a “believing phase.” Grrr.

A happier part of the conversation was when I explained to her how I wanted to come out to my parents. “If you had a fantasy of coming out to them,” she said, “What would you do?” I was stumped for a moment, but then remembered what I had decided over the past couple days: “I’ve decided to start dropping hints,” I said. “The idea is that eventually they’ll make the first move and ask me what’s up.” [Of course, I know that this process could never end--if my parents don't want to know, then they won't ever ask--or if they do ask, they won't listen.] She was encouraging, which was nice.

Anyway, I’m encouraged by my first experience as an activist. Next I need to march for gay rights or something. Hmmm.