Children as a Heritage

A couple of weeks ago I was going through our bookshelves and came across a book I didn’t realize I still owned. It was a book that my mom had purchased for my hope chest that I thought was long gone. The inscription that she wrote on the inside of the book speaks volumes.

She was in the thick of home school leadership at this time, but of all of the externals that she shed when she left the world of home school leadership, this is the one aspect that she did not. She still adhered to the principle that “children (or, my daughter’s children, my son’s children, my grandchildren’s children) are a heritage from the Lord.” (Psalm 127:3, NIV)

Which begs the question, what exactly is a heritage?
Webster’s Dictionary and Strong’s Concordance define the word in essentially the same manner, which I thought interesting in light of the fact that Hebrew connotations of words are so varied when compared with our English language.


Strong’s:


Heritage, from the Hebrew, Nachalah: from an unused word; possession, property, inheritance.




Webster’s:


Heritage: Property that is or can be inherited; an inheritance. Something passed down from preceding generations; a tradition. The status acquired through birth; a birthright.


Inherit: To receive (property or title, for example) from an ancestor by legal succession or will. To receive by bequest or as a legacy. To receive or take over from a predecessor. To receive (a characteristic) from one’s parents by genetic transmission. To gain (something) as one’s right or portion. To hold or take possession of an inheritance.

***********

 

I find it interesting that children are viewed as a form of property, a right. It’s hard for me sometimes to initially read something like that in the Bible, and that is mostly because my mom was so incredibly spiritually abusive to me. But as I processed the thought that children are an inheritance, a heritage, what came to my mind is the difference between the abuse of one’s inheritance and the stewardship and care over it.

The child born into wealth, given every thing and every opportunity take possession over their inheritance with a snobberish attitude of rightful ownership. They never appreciated what they had, so they squander it away on fanciful whims and mismanage their money, leaving them broke, penniless, and worse off than they were before the inheritance came into their possession. And even if their inheritance is sizeable enough that this situation does not occur, the contentment and satisfaction of knowing what they now possess thwarts them. It thwarts them because they view their inheritance as a right, an entitlement and once they receive it, their wealthy brattiness prevents them from being truly thankful to the Giver of all good gifts.

But those who understand what a gift they possess, are truly grateful. They understand the value and appreciate it. They care for it. They invest it where it will grow and strengthen and become greater still. They do not rush out and squander it on whims; they don’t take it for granted that it will always be there. They understand that if they do not care for their inheritance-their heritage- that it will be gone and washed away.

Therein lies the difference in viewing children as a form of entitlement versus a precious gift to steward.

Parents who view their children as a form of entitlement, a right to possess and own, make choices for their children that feed their own agenda and personal ideologies. The decisions and choices that the parents make, the authority and control that they exercise over their children is self-serving. Case in point, the Duggar’s. The girls are expected to help do the hard work of raising their younger siblings, though it is not their responsibility (legally or otherwise). They cook, make laundry soap, spank their younger brothers and sisters, help educate them, train them, clean the house…In short, they are built in slaves to their mother to help her with the ideology that she projects onto them and it is self-serving.


Webster’s Definition of Slavery is stated thus:


One bound in servitude as the property of a person or household. One who is abjectly subservient to a specified person or influence. One who works extremely hard. A machine or component controlled by another machine or component. To work very hard or doggedly, toil.

These precious Duggar Daughters, and countless others like them are slaves to their parents and their parent’s ideology. I don’t have a problem with large families, as long as the parents are raising the children. Not children raising children. Be a steward of what you have, rather than abuse, misuse, mistreat, and exasperate what the Giver has given.

Does this mean that children are not to have chores and to help out around the house? No, but what is does mean is that the chores that they are expected to do are developmentally appropriate and do not lead to exasperation. Chores are meant to be a training tool to teach personal responsibility and the value of helping out the family- of being a part of something larger than oneself and feeling the importance that those values should instill. Developmentally, a two year old should not be expected to pick up their dishes and put them in the sink. At this point, they are still learning the important value of being able to trust that Mommy and Daddy will help care for their basic needs. Developmentally, a two year old can be expected to help pick up her own baby dolls imperfectly. Yet Jordyn Duggar is expected to clean up her table, put her dishes in a sink she can’t reach, and keep herself picked up after.

Is this the end of the world? No, but parents who are wise stewards over their children don’t just start handing out chores because they are tired of doing the work. They recognize that chores are an important part of growing up and that the purpose is to teach responsibility and independence. Chores are not meant to be a built-in mechanism that parents employ to help feed their ideology that having a large family is God’s calling and their children will help to support that belief. If having a large family is what God has called you to, then you need to be prepared to do the work yourself and not expect your children to do it for you.

Parents who are wise and loving stewards are not controlling over their children to the point of exasperation. They allow them the space that they need to grow and be beautiful, independent creatures while providing them with a safe and secure framework of gentle servant authority in which to grow and prosper. These parents lead by example, not by dictation. They are swiftly and acutely in tune with their children’s hearts, interests, feelings, and anxieties. They model grace and lavish love. Their children do not have cause to fear that their parents won’t provide for their emotional, educational, and physical needs. They are secure in their parent’s love and acceptance of them, they trust in their parents and their hearts rest in the assurance of their relationship. This is a far cry from what many of the Movement/Quiverfull homeschool children feel from their parents.

Because Movement homeschoolers have such a possessive attitude towards their children, this is very often extended onto their grandchildren. It is the view of generational inheritance and possession. Many times in my teenage years I heard the verses, “I will lead you into the land of Canaan, a land of inheritance…” in terms of inheriting the progeny of their children’s children.

I say this because it is a form of warning. Though my parents had left the homeschool movement nearly twelve years ago, their thinking had not changed, especially in regard to this core belief that Movement homeschoolers hold to. They knew that they had blown it with me, and they treated me as though I was not worth working for. But my children- or their children as they thought of them- were the reason they fought so hard to stay in my life.

The fight got so nasty over this battle for my children we had to seek legal counsel because they were approaching their lawyer with threats of grandparent’s rights, custody battles and the entire shebang.

I never realized just how intense one’s desire to control what is perceived as being rightfully theirs could prove to be.

These threats led me to have to contact my children’s school and provide them with pictures of my parents so that they could prevent my parents from taking them or coming to see them. I had to threaten them with a restraining order to get them to leave my children alone (they were obscenely sending packages and cards every chance they could to butter my boys up), and then a final meeting with our attorney to ensure that they had no legal rights whatsoever. Because I refuse my parents permission to see my children, they have no rights to them at all and no basis for a custody hearing.

In this sense, there is very little difference between the slave owners during the Civil War era. Children that were born to slaves became the property and sole ownership of the slave master, with no respect to the biological parents.

Wise and loving parents gradually release the reigns of control a little bit each year, allowing their child to grow into an independent creature that is capable of making their own decisions and choices. They love them enough to give them the space to grow, to make mistakes, to stumble and fall, to rise and conquer. They prepare them to leave their nest to go and find a new mate, build a new nest and start this beautiful circadian rhythm all over again. This is the way it was designed by the Giver and those who thwart this process thwart the beauty of the Giver’s design.

The Dispelled Girl: Part 11: Raging Rapids on the Sea of Change

June came in on the wings of a splendid spring for Darren and I. My world had never been sunnier. It was a hopeful season full of the amazing gift of love between a man and his woman. We both knew we were going to become engaged, the question was one of timing.

The lease for the sugary little condo that I was renting with my friend was going to be up at the end of June. Due to the situation of my relationship with Darren, and the seriousness of it, this was going to render me without a place to live. My two dear friends were going to be moving in with three other girls, and due to occupational ordinances there was not room for one more person. I knew what my options were: either try to find a place to live on my own, move in with Darren, or move back in with my parents. I couldn’t afford to rent a place on my income and I didn’t want to sign a lease, and I had always dreamed of marrying in the church where I grew up. It was a magnificent facility and the envy of those who could marry there: you had to be a member in order to wed. With those dreams of a beautiful ceremony and wedding nestled deep in my heart, living with Darren would put that dream out of reach for me. My life had been filled with so much pain and heartache; I couldn’t bear the thought of relinquishing my dreams of the happiest day of my life. So I did what I never should have done: I moved back in with my parents.

Darren proposed on the front steps of a darling Catholic church that we would walk by every night. The Church of the Little Flower looked like it belonged in Austria and it was the perfect setting. Dropping to one knee, he pulled out the biggest diamond solitaire I had ever seen. After tears and kisses, three ladies down the street applauded. I think we made their day.

Darren’s parents, who were not churchgoers, were wonderful and supportive and thrilled that at long last their son was getting married to the girl of his dreams. My parents who were devoted members of this church, actively worked to un-do our relationship and sought to control what they could. To say that they were displeased with my engagement to a man that “they didn’t know” would be an understatement. My mother was convinced that this was not God’s will for my life and so with that conviction came a war looming on the horizon. But the throws of love kept me naïve regarding what the two of my parents were plotting and Darren and I forged ahead knowing that nothing could separate us from one another or the Father’s love.

We progressed ahead planning our future. Neither one of us had ever been happier, especially not me. And then, one week in mid-July it all fell apart.

My best friend at the time was still working at Twin Oaks. We had grown very, very close over the last several months. We shared a cubicle and we loved working together. She always had my back.

She called my cell. “Chandra, you need to know something. Your wedding date was just pulled off of the calendar.”

I was angry and frozen all at the same time. I had been in charge of scheduling weddings, and I knew the policy. The only way that this could have happened is if my parents decided that they did not approve of my marriage to a God-fearing, financially secure man that they “did not know.” They had pulled out their ace card: Parental blessing.

They had gone straight to the top and successfully communicated that they were not comfortable with this marriage, that I was marrying the wrong one, and in the name of protecting me…the church listened and pulled my date.

In a few short days, I lost everything. My dreams of a lovely wedding, my dress, my photographer, and my invitation company. Everything.

To shorten a lengthy story for the purposes of blogging, Darren and I planned on eloping at the courthouse the Thursday after my world became wretchedly unraveled. I moved all of my belongings in to Darren’s over the next few days. Screw the wedding.

This of course did not stop my parents from insisting- yes, you read that right- insisting on a wedding that they had complete control over, at a time they were “comfortable with.”

We said hell with it.

They wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I had pastors, elders wives, and the whole gamut calling me, sending me emails, writing me letters about how I needed to do what my parents wanted, that I was robbing my mom of an opportunity to share a wedding with her daughter, and not to elope.

I don’t know what brand of Kool-aid they fed their friends, but it was nothing but lies in an attempt to control and manipulate their daughter.

The problem was that my parents had wanted the wedding date pulled off of the calendar so that they could control the entire process, and force us to wait a year and a half to get married (rather than in a few short months). They thought that they could bank on the fact that they knew how much I had dreamed of getting married and that they could use that dream to manipulate me.

Well, not any more. I relinquished my dream. It was important to me yes, I would never fully recover from the loss, but it was not near as dear to my heart as the man I was about to marry. He was my world and I gladly gave all that up for him…and for self-respect.

My best friend was a great party planner. She knew about my dreams of a wedding, and she was not about to let me go and just give all of that up. She knew a pastor who could perform our ceremony, she said, so why not plan a wedding anyway?

We met with the pastor, and he agreed to marry us. We called the proprietor of the Church of the Little Flower and he OK’d us to be married on the front steps of the very church where he proposed to me. I went to JCPenny’s and bought a wedding dress (or confirmation dress, not sure which!) off of the rack. Darren’s parents paid for the ceremony site and pastor. I bought my own gown.

My BF and I kept the ceremony under wraps. We were about to spring a massive surprise on my bridal party. On the night of the ceremony, my BF met them at our house which was right down the street from the church and drove everyone to Little Flower. You could hear the screams coming from the van.

It was a surprise wedding, and we were the couple surprising everyone else!

I wasn’t strong enough emotionally or mentally to fight the mental burga that my parents had covered me with. I allowed them to be present at the ceremony. It was a dark bloody stain on the white dress that I wore. And when I think about one of the happiest days of my life, there they are, with their pompous attitudes and obvious disapproval, looking on in judgment and hatred.

At the time, I cared little whether they were there or not. But when I look back, it pains me because I still remember the look on their faces. I wish those memories were not even there.

They insisted on paying for something at the last minute. We had planned to go to a fancy French restaurant with the understanding that everyone would pick up his or her own tab. Not wanting to be shown up by Darren’s parents (who were already paying for the champagne), they gave me their credit card and told me to charge the meals to it.

They left with my grandfather. And we went on to celebrate the beginning of our married lives. I was free!

Or was I?

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think about an unexpected conversation that I had had with Hannah, not a month before our wedding. She had found my number through a friend of a friend and wanted to reconnect. She said that she had a lot to tell me, a lot that she wanted to apologize for. And when we met, I couldn’t believe my ears. And on my wedding day, I couldn’t help but think about what it was that she had told me.

Missouri Homeschooling Law

This is the first in a series where I will analyze the homeschooling laws of all fifty states and since I lived and breathed this particular state’s law, this seemed like the logical place to start.

 

Overall, Missouri is considered by the wider homeschooling community to be one of the best laws in the nation because it is a state with no accountability to state officials. Hair generally raises on my spine when I hear this because it is indicative of just how much (or how little) a family can get by with.

 

Section 1

 

• According to Section 167.031 of the Revised Statutes of Missouri, a parent or guardian of a child, between the ages of seven (7) and seventeen (17) years of age, shall cause the child to attend regularly some public, private, parochial, parish, home school or a combination of such schools. Any parent may educate a child at home. The parent does not need a teaching certificate or need to meet any education requirements in order to provide home instruction.

Human nature naturally goes towards delaying putting off what could be done now, until it is absolutely necessary. This is no exception. While little five and six year olds are lined up with their book bags waiting for the school bus ready to engage their minds in learning, the five and six year olds of homeschooling families are not. Because compulsory attendance does not occur until the age of seven, the average family does not begin keeping records until that age. This puts the home-schooled student at a one-to-two year delay before they have even begun their education.

 

Though one could argue that there is a blessing in the amount of freedom that our country enjoys, the fact that Missouri does not require any educational requirements on the part of the parents only does the children a disservice. Yes, it is beneficial for the parents, but not for the children. As a Special Education teacher, this is alarming for two reasons.

 

1) The amount of trust that the home educator places on writers and creators of home schooling curriculum; which all too often is written by equally unqualified home educators. Trusting that the home school curriculum is sound, the parents’ that have had no educational training leads them to blind ignorance and only handicaps their children further.

 

2) Lack of teaching certification. I know this is an intensely unpopular sentiment but this is a serious problem. There is a lot that an educator must learn in order to obtain a teaching certification. Teaching a child is more than browsing through a home school resource catalog, ordering some books, and placing your children at the table to teach them. Educating a child is as much about the education as it is about the child’s development: social, cognitive, physical. Teachers in the State of Missouri, and any other state, must retake their certification exams in order to maintain currency and their job. Just as we wouldn’t want to be seen by a doctor or nurse that was not up-to-date on the latest medical trends, technologies and information neither should we settle for second best when it comes to educating our society’s children: homeschooled or not.

 

Section 2:

 

• If a parent decides to home school, he or she must offer 1,000 hours of instruction during the school year, with at least 600 hours in the basics, which will be in reading, language arts, mathematics, social studies, and science. At least 400 of the 600 hours shall occur in the home location.

 

In the State of Missouri “1,000 hours of instruction” is interpreted as 1,000 lessons equals 1,000 hours of instruction by homeschoolers. This is somewhat of a mixed bag. I have known many home schooling families that were very conscientious about meeting the 1,000 hour requirement, but by that same token, I have also known plenty of families who did not (my own family being one of them. In fact, I would be surprised if I met the 1,000 hour requirement but once or twice in all twelve years of my “education.”). The primary focus of the basics is most heavily laden in the reading and social study concentrations by home educating families with math coming in a distant third. Language arts and science are thrown into the mix whenever time permits. There is usually not an equal distribution of focus on these concentrations among the majority of families as it takes a highly motivated, exceptionally organized individual to appropriate the time accordingly.

 

The second area where this law falls apart is that 2/3 of the core subjects need to be completed at home, the primary place of instruction. With the rise of home school learning centers across the nation, and the plethora of them in Missouri, more and more home educating parents recognize the value in hiring out the more difficult subjects to teach, especially as their students’ age. Though there is great value and benefit in hiring this out, most families are not conscious of the amount of hours their student is taking at these learning centers and often the totals could be easily above what the law would allow for. Home educating parents need to be careful to follow the law in this area.

 

Section 3

 

• A completed credit towards high school graduation is defined as 100 hours or more of instruction in a course. Home school education enforcement and records pursuant to this section, and sections 210.167 and 211.031, RSMo, shall be subject to review only by the local prosecuting attorney.

 

This was a new statute that was passed in 2009. Prior to this point, scores of home educated graduates falsified their transcripts stating that they had completed the necessary credits in order to complete graduation. Though this is a baby step in the right direction, there is no accountability over this aspect and it still remains a concern that this could be easily interpreted as a “recommendation” based on the law, rather than a literal requirement. Though the threat of coming under the scrutiny of the local prosecuting attorney is enough for a handful of families, this is rarely the case.

 

Section 4

 

• A parent who is home schooling a child must maintain the following records:

1. A plan book, diary, daily log, or other written record indicating the subjects taught and the activities engaged in with the student;

2. A portfolio containing samples of the student's academic work;

3. A record of evaluation of the student's academic progress; or

4. Other written, or credible evidence equivalent to a, b, and c.

This is where the law completely falls flat on its face in ensuring Missouri’s children a valid home education. Computer programs, record books and other record keeping tools are out there, but the fact that the law provides for “Other written, or credible evidence equivalent to a, b, and c” allows home educators to interpret the “other” part of this law. In other words, parents rarely keep a thorough accounting of hours earned by children. The key factor here is accountability. With no direct oversight or accountability, parents are fairly free to do whatever they deem appropriate or to put it satirically, whatever they feel like doing. No one but the local prosecuting attorney has the jurisdiction to view a child’s records and samples of work and this was never done when I was being home schooled and have yet to hear of any case where a review of work actually made it that far: usually it was cleared up by Department of Social Services. Coupled with the growing emphasis on the alarming movement of un-schooling, this major loop hole needs to be fixed.

 

Of additional concern is the lack of requirement to have a yearly evaluation done on the child’s academic progress. Parochial and public schools test periodically throughout the year to measure a student’s understanding of academic content. Lack of testing should be of some concern. I took one standardized test in second grade and flunked it. That was the only test I ever took until I entered college at the age of 27. The solution to correcting the academic discrepancies created by this law- and abused by the home schooling families- is to require a state issued, federally mandated standardized test (such as the MAP test) beginning in third grade for all home educated students. The educator should keep proof of these tests and these are proof of completion of a grade. The same grading scale is universally used for all students regardless of institution and failure of the test is insufficient to move on to the next grade. Tests must be taken every year the student is home schooled and failure to comply with this regulation will result in an insufficient completion of courses and student will be retained until successful completion of the test.

 

If home educating parents were doing their jobs, this should not leave them feeling threatened.

 

Section 5

 

• The school year is defined as beginning July 1 and ending the next June 30.

 

Pretty self-explanatory. However, if a home educator were to get their information from the HSLDA website, they state that:

 

“These requirements must be met within the school term (12 months or less) the parents establish.”

 

I find it ironic that an organization that claims to give sound legal advice can’t even interpret the law correctly for those they claim to represent.

 

Section 6

 

• Children with disabilities attending a home school program may receive special education services provided by the local school district, in accordance with Section 162.996 of the Revised Statutes of Missouri, and the State Plan for Special Education.

 

Across the board, home educators dismantle the theories that surround the special needs and disabilities of students. They promote a lot of misinformation on the amount of pressure that a school district places on its parents to medicate their children and diagnose them, which as an educator in the public school system, is complete bogus and hogwash. If an educator suspects a child to have a learning disability they do encourage the parents to get their child diagnosed but it is for one reason only: red tape. Without the proper diagnosis, the teacher’s hands are tied and the student in question is not qualified to receive special education services. Because homeschooling begins with parents who are proud (believing they can do it better than someone else), they rarely if ever diagnose their children if a learning disability is suspected. And due to their intense fear of the public school system, they will not accept the help and services from the special education department though it would benefit their child tremendously.

 

Section 7

 

• Section 167.042 of the Revised Statutes of Missouri, states that a parent or guardian may notify the superintendent of schools or the recorder of county deeds, in the county where the child legally resides, of their intent to home school. This is to be done before September 1 annually. Home-schooled students do not register with the Department of Elementary and Secondary Education.

 

If a child has been in attendance in the local public school system, the family must notify the school district of their plans to home educate their student(s) for that first year. After that point, families are no longer required to notify the district. It is the rare exception for a family to notify the superintendent on yearly basis. I would like to see this be a legal requirement that is enforced throughout the state. I believe that if families were required to report their intentions to homeschool on a yearly basis that it would a) offer more insight into the numbers of individuals that choose to homeschool b) provide more scientific data for research purposes and c) provide a way in which home schooling families can be reached if accusations of neglect and abuse surface.

 

Special Considerations:

 

The State of Missouri does not have a mandated curriculum that must be taught. This is understandable considering that to require one would place a lot of strain on state agencies in enforcing the standards among non-accredited parochial schools and home schools.

 

The State of Missouri also does not recognize home school high school diplomas as being legitimate which is a healthy thing. Often times the support groups that are in the state of Missouri lie to their families by telling them that the diploma that their graduate will receive upon graduation with the support group is legitimate and accepted by colleges. This is not the case. It was not the case for me, and it isn’t the case for other graduates either. Though getting a diploma feels like an accomplishment to a home school graduate, the diplomas are fraudulent and meaningless. The best way to ensure a legitimate entrance into college is to take the GED, ACT or SAT exams, all of which are often times discouraged.

 

Overview:

 

It is a shame that the students in the state of Missouri were cheated out of a decent education because some lawmakers and lobbyists decided they would pass a law that kept a large part of their constituency happy and pacified. Here again, the lawmakers have let us down. There was no insight into this law by the Department of Secondary and Elementary Education or NEA when this law was passed. The Missouri homeschooling law was worded by home educating parents with the aid of local lawmakers. It is my opinion that this law needs to be scraped and re-worked from the ground up. It is a sad day for home educated students in Missouri.

References taken from Missouri Department of Secondary and Elementary Education

Sons and Daughters of the Movement: Jason's Story

Author’s Note: Some names and details of this story have been changed to protect identity of the individuals.

Her name was Tirza. She was beautiful beyond measure staring back at me from behind the table with her brilliant green eyes and naturally highlighted curvaceous golden brown hair. She was slender and her effervescence matched mine, her laugh like a bubbling brook. She was feisty and sarcastic and her personality was a perfect match for mine, as neither of our personalities gelled very well with the vast majority of the rest of the girls we knew from the Movement. And if our personalities did match others, we never found out because if a daughter risked exposing her true self, she risked her security and position. Tirza and I met at our state’s home school conference and it didn’t take long for us to begin an incessant conversation filled with all things girly. We were instant kindred spirits. Before the weekend was over, names and addresses had been exchanged and it wasn’t more than a handful of lazy summer days before the first letter arrived in my mailbox with a gorgeous handwritten script, curly enough to match her hair.


Raised in an equally oppressive, legalistic, Patriarchal home, neither she nor I had very many options beyond the call of betrothal and motherhood. If we were going to find our way, we would have to forge those waters on our own. But in those tender years leading up to our much-anticipated graduations, we were set on dreaming about our futures, which for us blazed brightly and were full of promise like a new morning when the grass is freshly green and woolly newborn lambs greet the dawn. Tirza was two years older than myself, and was scheduled to graduate the year before I was.

Slowly our letters waned with the fury that we had once sent them. Excuses reigned on both of our parts, but primarily they centered around the fact that I was preoccupied with hurriedly attempting to find a job to get out of my abusive home life, and hers was completely different. She was courting a mutual friend and had been promised, or betrothed, to him.

Jason ran around with a group of guys that my parents had begun to allow me to socialize with more frequently the summer right before I graduated. This was really unheard of in my world, but the main reason for this change was because I was trying to reach out to Dani, and these guys were very much like her big brothers and in time, became like mine. Because all of our families were connected through attending Immanuel Family Fellowship, socializing with one another was deemed acceptable as long as there was heavy adult supervision. Somehow through a twisting of connections in the homeschooling community, Tirza and Jason had been introduced to one another. And it was assumed that based on the reformed theology and their parent’s commitment to the Movement, that that was sign enough from God to promise these two young adults for one another.

Jason was a tanned, slightly shorter than average guy, shorter than the graceful Tirza by nearly two inches. He usually had our entire group in stitches due to his satirical, witty and often hysterical view of the world and his surroundings. Not overly a thinker and a tendency to take the world with a Johnny-come-lately attitude, he appeared to be very much the opposite of Tirza in this way. Whether the odd couple truly was lopsided in their match for one another no one cared to notice. It would be one of the very first weddings of second-generation homeschoolers since the Movement began in the late 1970’s and both sets of parents were certain that God had arranged their marriage in His courtroom.

Though I knew that the two were engaged, I never saw them together. Tirza wrote of him but briefly once, and all that magical summer I never once heard Jason mention her name, except when I brought it up. It was odd, but I paid it little attention and our friends followed suit. After all, they were just courting and because of that, not really meant to be seen as a couple in the public view…at least, not in this stage of the game. I heard of her wedding plans, of her china pattern, of her dreams of happy home and creature comforts. But little mention of him, except when I mentioned him to her. Again, I paid little heed, and chose instead to immerse myself in her dreams of excitement of her future. If Tirza’s dreams had come true- along with her dreams of freedom- then mine were shortly to follow. Or so I thought.

And then one day I received a dreaded letter from Tirza. I knew something was wrong from the moment I tore into the envelope, as my name and address were written in a markedly different form. The handwriting was forlorn and droopy, not the perky, cheery scroll I was used to receiving, instead, it was naked of the curvatures of her lovely script.

Dear Chandra,


Hi, how are you? Sorry I haven’t written in a while. I got a new job at our local Wal-Mart store and it has kept me really busy. Sometimes I like the work atmosphere and sometimes I don’t.


My heart feels like it is going to break in two. After a very rocky and up-and-down relationship with Jason, he called it off about a month ago. It’s been very hard on me and I don’t know what I am going to do. Our wedding has been called off- all of my hopes and dreams- gone.


Sorry, I know that this letter is more of a note, but I have to go to work. I will write more later. Thanks for being a good friend.


Grace and peace be yours abundantly,
Tirza



It didn’t take long for Jason’s story to begin to unfold, and it was a story that unless you were close to it, you would not have heard about it. It was a story that had it been allowed to leak through the chinks, it would have rocked the Kool-aid world of our families. As it was, the few that did know about it understood one thing: keep it under wraps because if it were exposed, their credibility would have been destroyed.

It began when Jason was fourteen in the bedroom of his grandfather. His grandfather had always been a recluse and somewhat bizarre. His grandfather was a large man and it was easy to overpower the small frame of Jason, who took after his father. Greedy, hungry and beyond redemption, a two year incestuous relationship began.

His mom first noticed the difference in him becoming more and more defiant and despondent. Jason had become the adolescent that her Movement friends were telling her to fear: mouthy, defiant, withdrawn and hateful. Attributing it to the dreaded pubescent stage and his public school, she pulled him out and began homeschooling him the summer after his relationship with his grandfather began. His father in this process was the typical overbearing, controlling Patriarch whose ego was fed by his wife and who was generally emotionally absent from the lives of his sons.

In some ways, being pulled out of public education was a good thing for Jason, as his mom’s new found interest in protectiveness meant that even being left alone with his grandfather was now out of the question. And since Jason could not be left alone, his grandfather’s interest in him slowly subsided and eventually died out. Jason chose not to tell a soul about the humiliation that he had endured. It was an assault not only on his budding manhood, but also on the dignity of his soul. And the further and deeper his mother went into the Movement- wearing homemade dresses and insisting that her sons resemble the Amish- the deeper he buried his secret shame.

He covered it well. He was always out for fun and sought to deflect the attention on himself by trying to make others laugh. He was easy to get along with and hilarious to boot, so it made him a choice companion at a homeschool social event.

But then came the day when his parents chose him a soul mate. And Jason thought that once again he could hide the feelings that had been rumbling and formulating the last few years. He really didn’t want to come clean. He knew what it would mean if he did, and he just wasn’t quite there yet. Surely he could hang on for a little while longer…Surely he could get over this thorn in his flesh, this could be conquered! It would be!

He prayed, he fought, he never conquered. And the wedding date with Tirza was fast approaching. Their relationship was rocky and tumultuous and he had relatively no feelings towards her other than something of a chum. It was strange and it perplexed him but he just couldn’t shake it. And then the time came when Tirza had had enough of his excuses and demanded to know what was wrong with her. Why he wasn’t interested in holding her hands, why he wasn’t tempted to kiss her. She had caught him at a weak moment, when his guard was down and he was tired of fighting.

Jason’s mom had grown into the proverbial nagging, controlling mother that most sons grow to despise. But this was ten times worse. Hearing her drone on and on about Tirza and the wedding, the pressure of procreating grandchildren for his mother to help raise, and his secrets weighing him down put him over the edge. Truth was, with the secret he was carrying and his family’s newly adopted attitudes on sex, he had had enough. He was done with this religious dogma, he was done with the mind games, he was done with people who didn’t know anything about his real mind and heart and all he knew was that he wanted out. He was done, and he didn’t care what the fallout was.

He told Tirza everything. How the wedding was off, how he was moving out of his family’s home even if they disowned him, how he was molested by his grandfather and how ever since he had hit puberty, he had feelings towards men that he couldn’t explain. Jason had done it, and broken Tirza’s heart in the process. But at least the weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders and now he could go on and live the life he wanted to live…that he needed to live.

Jason’s family did disown him for quite some time. Because his little brother was beginning to follow his older brothers lead, his mom and dad did wake up in time to stop the bleeding and to realize that the Movement, and Immanuel Family Fellowship and the Kool-aid that both offered, was not doing their family any favors. But the damage had been done. Jason was an outcast and he was gay. And because of his family’s inability to be open and honest, and because of their stifling religiosity, his family missed an opportunity to show Christ’s love to him.

Jason left the Christian faith, and honestly though it deeply saddens me, I understand it. Tirza after wondering in the desert for years and falling in with the wrong crowd did come back to the faith and is now living out her dreams of being a wife and mother. Both of them never completed college, and both have held jobs at mass-market retailers. They have since reconnected and both realized that the homes in which they were raised were filled with suffocating Quiverfull practices that squelch the life out of the families that the Movement is said to save.

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