I am fifteen years into this whole parenthood project and I am only sort of embarrassed to admit that I have never once wished to turn back the clock. Or pause it. Or even slow it down. I have been content to let time pass, often wishing for it to pass more quickly. I have wanted to get past the sleepless nights, the bum wiping, sticky hands cleaning, runny nose wiping, whining, and-more recently-the eye rolling, door slamming, texting, and chauffeuring.
Until now.
My favorite 11 year old girl turns 12 in two days. I have not had any angst over my kids’ birthdays or about them starting kindergarten or turning 8 (a milestone birthday for Mormon families) or turning 13. I was even (mostly) okay when my oldest daughter turned 12 a couple years ago.
But this birthday feels qualitatively different. Maybe it’s because I know what’s coming this time around.
You see, in the Mormon church, kids attend Primary from age 3 until they turn 12, at which point they become part of either the Young Women’s or Young Men’s organization, where they stay until they graduate from high school.
So what’s the big deal, you might be wondering? Well, in Primary, we talk about totally benign things like faith, hope, serving others, being nice to kids at school, helping people in your family, honoring your parents (woot!), keeping the Sabbath Day holy, etc.
In Young Women, the focus shifts dramatically from things like being nice to others to chastity, virtue, modesty, the divine role of womanhood (possibly my least favorite phrase in all the world), and preparing to get married. After her first few weeks in YW, our oldest daughter asked, “So do we talk about chastity every week in Young Women’s?” and asked whether she could go back to Primary where we sing songs and have fun. Now, I don’t want my daughters running around dressed like hoochies, but I also don’t need them to learn that a tank top is immodest. I don’t want her to learn to be ashamed of her pale shoulders or her bare knees-scrapes and all. I sure as heck don’t want her to learn that she is responsible for boys’ actions upon seeing her and/or her girlfriends. Please, please, please don’t tell my daughter that she is like pornography for the boys around her. I don’t care who said it was so. I don’t want her to learn that God uses her hemline to measure the worth of her soul.
I’m not excited for her to start thinking about marriage. Recall that she is about to turn twelve-not twenty. She might be thinking about starting to use blush or shaving her legs for the first time or fretting over which Aeropostale t-shirt to wear to school or about how she’s going to squeeze in three hours of oboe practice in one night because she slacked off all week. But marriage? Not on her radar screen.
I don’t want her to join her church friends in brainstorming a list of the characteristics she wants in a future husband. I would love for her to brainstorm a list of characteristics that she might like to develop or a list of things she wants to accomplish in life or a list of ways to be a better friend or a better daughter or a better global citizen or . . . you get the picture. (And I’m sure they do some of those other things in YW . . .)
I don’t want her to learn that her life as a Mormon girl will be lived “under the direction of” the priesthood, which is limited to males (12 and up) in the Mormon church. I don’t want her to learn that someone (even God!) has prescribed her purpose in life for her. I want her to know that she has a divine right and privilege to chart her own path in life.
My favorite 11 year old girl has always been spunky and funky. She has often purposefully worn mismatched socks and clothes inappropriate for the weather and has continued to wear tank top sleeve dresses to church even though she knows it’s, well, against the rules. And once, when she wore a pair of dress pants to church (gasp!) and her Sunday School teacher told her that girls shouldn’t wear pants to church, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Huh. I think I look nice” and went about her merry way. And she did look nice.
My favorite 11 year old girl has a good head on her shoulders. Who am I kidding? She’s got a great head on her shoulders. Mr. Cheap Seats and I find ourselves scratching our heads, wondering how she (and her siblings!) got this way. I hope it’s enough to help her weather the storm that I fear is coming her way (and don’t think I haven’t considered shielding her from said storm). I hope no lesson, no teacher, no leering boy, no catty girl, and certainly no supposed messages from God cause her to doubt herself.
****
I can’t figure out how to end this blog post. Maybe it’ll just hang here in the air and my spunky girl can come back, years from now, and remind me that it was her story to finish–not mine.
Ah Heather, you are her mother and have far more influence over her than anything she may hear in church, IMO.
Where ever
did eleven
go?
Fourteen breezed
in last
June.
Its
wonderful, of
course.
Tresses of
glistening
brown.
A woman’s
comely
silhouette.
Yet
still a
girl.
Indeed,
fourteen
sings.
But my heart
aches for
eleven.
The most
ethereal
age.
Articulate.
Innocent.
Brave.
An emerging mind,
a child’s
heart.
The book says
He giveth and taketh
away.
Oh God, could you not have
given just a bit more
eleven?
(((((Heather)))))
Oh, thank you! I love this.
I’m glad.
There’s just something magical about 11. Even for Muggles.
I love that she wore pants. It ticks me off that leaders tell OUR children how they should and shouldn’t dress. The great thing is this: Parents can (and should) do the Personal Progress with their daughters. In my mind, it allows us to filter and assess and discuss everything the YW leaders are teaching our daughters. It’s been said that we should make sure school teachers aren’t taking over our children’s minds- I believe the same about YW leaders.
Oh Heather, my oldest is about to turn 12 and these are the same questions that are plaguing her mother and me. This past weekend, my wife called me in tears because she had just read through the YW manuals online and realized that they are the same ones she grew up with with the same messages that caused her so much pain and anguish and serious feelings of inadequacy growing up.
My oldest loves anime, Japanese, writing, wearing pants, reading fantasy and sci-fi, and music. She is not interested in homemaking, boys, babysitting, card making, stamping, etc. She hated Activity Days in Primary so we didn’t make her go even under tremendous pressure. I only see it getting worse.
I should make it clear that the “tremendous pressure” was the pressure placed on us by primary and ward leaders, not by us on her.
Stephen is so right about the pressure ward leaders place on parents to make sure their kids conform. What happened to the idea that parents are entitled to their own revelation to guide their own families?
Heather, you just articulated so beautifully so many of the reasons why I am freaked out about sending my kids (especially girls) to YW/YM. I don’t know if I can do it.
Great post. I’m glad we have moved on from church before our girls have even got close to YW. I was just saying to a friend the other day that although I stopped going to church 18 months ago and I believe that you don’t need to wear sleeves or skirts that touch the floor when you kneel down to be appropriately dressed I still can’t leave the house unless I am ‘LDS modest’ – it’s ingrained in me…. arrrgghhh!
Just emailed this to my own 12 year old for discussion.
Her reply:
i like it. i agree with them. i want to wear dress pants to church, although i don’t think i’d be able to come up with something like that. i would probably get all embarrassed. sigh. they do talk about marriage and womanhood and all that stuff. it does feel like they are teaching me stuff i should learn when i am 20, not 12.
Sweet girl, Jared. Did she email this back to you, or was it in a conversation?
I did not show this to Marin today. Maybe it felt too raw?? She went to her last Activity Day meeting tonight. I think she felt a bit wistful. They all signed a card for her and they had cookie cake to celebrate.
And I don’t need to predispose her (any more than I probably already have . . .) to be worried about it . . .
My first Beehive activity was horrifying. We made baby quilts, for OURSELVES! GROSS! EWWW! S-e-x was needed to make a baby and I thought we were supposed to avoid that! I was so confused and freaked out and really wanted to go back to Primary too.
Luckily, it got better. I never did do Personal Progress much though. Nobody really explained it to me, my mom never helped, and I didn’t understand the point. One round of leaders has us earn a silk flower for every activity we did to eventually make a beautiful bouquet. I didn’t care a wit about fake flowers though, so it was no incentive for me! Now, if they had offered us a box of chocolates, they would have been speaking my language.