"Can I just say that we don't have a clique problem at this school?"
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| This is a picture of Regina George. |
This is not going to be a post about the clique problems in the Boston singles wards (although there definitely are clique problems in the Boston singles wards), but rather it's about a broader thing. Regina George insisted that there were no cliques at the school because she was the head of the cliques. She was at the top of the world and therefore she didn't see the issues that could only be seen from the bottom. (This is also not going to be a post about church hierarchy and infrastructure, although it could be very easily.)
In every ward or branch or stake, there are the Regina Georges. This is not to say that they're mean people, because often, they're very nice. But they're the people who bear their testimonies as if the Gospel were so obvious; they're the ladies who comment in Relief Society about their awesomely strong relationships with their Heavenly Father; they're the friends who comment on Facebook every six months about how much they love fifteen old White men whom they've probably never met; they're the ones who hold 90% of the leadership positions in your ward or stake. They're the people whom you look at and think, "has anything about the Gospel ever been difficult for you in your whole life?"
I had made some comments about this article a while back, because I totally agreed with all of it. Church is really hard and makes me feel very isolated sometimes, and my Regina George thought allowed me to elaborate on why that is:
- Someone who has never had negative experiences with church leaders might not understand why a member might have trouble trusting a bishop or stake president.
- People who so easily and without question accept that God loves everybody might have trouble relating to someone who isn't sure that God cares about them all that much (and vice versa).
- Members who deal with depression, anxiety, &c., might feel very skeptical about opening up to home or visiting teachers who seem to be so happy all the freaking time.
And now I know what you're going to say: but Alex, nobody is perfect, everyone has struggles. And what I want to say to that is, "then show us your struggles, for goodness' sake!!!" I'm not saying that church has to turn into a giant Festival of Sadness where we talk about all of our feelings and then do trust falls, but it's a huge fallacy in Mormonism that we have to be cheerful scatterers of sunshine all the livelong day. Imagine if all of the seemingly-perfect people in church stopped doing all of the things that made them seemingly-perfect. They'd be just like the rest of us who happen to suck at hiding our imperfections. Maybe then the people who feel like outsiders would feel comfortable starting a dialogue; maybe then they'd realize that everyone* is kind of an outsider. Maybe then we'd be something slightly resembling Zion.
Maybe Zion is like that scene at the end of "Mean Girls" where everyone is kind of just chilling on the lawn and all of the cliques are dissembled and everyone seems to be cool with everyone else.
*or, at least 90% of everyone. Some people are just annoyingly that perfect.








