I just got a long letter from my mom in response to the essays in Dialogue. She had read the first essay ("Getting Out"), but she had not read the responses written by psychologist-types, nor had she read my response to them. Her letter was mostly detailing the thoughts she had while reading the essays, and some additional thoughts about what a wonderful person I am and how she feels bad because she wasn't a better mom. (For the record, I'd say she did a good job, especially considering her circumstances.) And then, toward the end of the letter, was a bit of rather shocking (to me, anyway) information:
My bishop had told her, three years before I did, that I "thought I might be homosexual." Apparently, he needed to tell her in order to get her approval before referring me to a counselor at LDS Social Services.
I am annoyed. Philosophically, more than anything. One assumes that when one tells something of this nature (or anything of any nature) to an ecclesiastical leader that one does so in strict confidence. I don't care that I was seventeen at the time and it was my mom he spoke with. Surely there are kids who go to their church leaders specifically because they don't want to talk to their parents. What if I hadn't told her because I knew she was a violent homophobe and I feared for my life? No, this wasn't the case--I hadn't told her because I didn't feel comfortable telling pretty much anyone at that point, and more than anything I didn't want to add one more thing to her list of worries--but still whether and when to tell her should have been my decision. If he needed to tell her in order to refer me, he should have said that was the case and asked for my permission to do so.
It's a moot point. When I didn't say anything about it after a while she assumed it had been a passing phase. And I did tell her, eventually, so it doesn't change anything now. And even if I were angry enough to call the guy up and yell at him or try to get him excommunicated or sue him or something ridiculous like that, he died seven years ago. And now that you know he's dead, I feel obligated to say that, overall, he was a nice guy. He was.
Despite the fact that, the first time I tried to tell him I was gay, his solution was for me to join the football team.
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Despite the fact that, the first time I tried to tell him I was gay, his solution was for me to join the football team
Did you tell him that that solution might actually have the opposite result?
No, but I certainly thought it.
I once heard of a gay guy whose bishop (who didn't know) told him that he should read Sports Illustrated whenever he felt the urge to masturbate.
This world makes me laugh.
Hehe, reminds me of the scene in Mambo Italiano where the son is introducing his boyfriend to his parents-
Dad (to Mom): "What're you talking about? He don't like hockey!"
Boyfriend: "Actually, I love hockey."
Son: "He was on the team all throughout college."
Mom (to Dad, giving him the 'imagine that' look): "Hmm, hockey's really the answer, isn't it?"
.
I hate how you can fobbomb the Foblog reader like this.
I've had a similar situation, and I was irritated. There's really no excuse for breaking confidentiality like that, and it makes me want to picket the stake president's office or something. I can't express how livid such "oops, and oh well" things make me.
As a doc, I've spent MANY hours over years of training talking about confidentiality and the specific situations that require exceptions. We talk about children, domestic violence, elder abuse, emancipated minors (kids with kids), insurance reporting (that gets back to parents), mature minors, etc. And even after all that formal training I'm afraid I'll screw things up sometimes. I don't imagine the church puts that kind of effort into training bishops, but perhaps they should.
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