w w V w w W s w w Wednesday, November 5 2014 // The Statement 7B Personal Statement: Falling in love behind closed doors by Carolyn Gearig from the pews: the evolution of my Methodism BY CLAIRE BRYAN C oming to college, I shoved United my religion forcibly to the ist minis back of my brain. For once ordinati I didn't have to look for the twinge tials aft in my father's eye as I declined his his own grey slacks, button down and trips another to church with our grandmoth- three ph er, and in turn ate his eggs on an trial in orange ceramic plate, balancing on United my bare knees, curled up in the cor- Church's ner of the couch. Council, I watch many of my friends pack was de up their backpacks at 9 p.m. on violating Sunday nights to leave the library ral vows and walk to church service. Every later a week, parentless, rule-free college panel of students prioritize their faith over cials ove their studies, over their sleep, over decision an extra hour of late night conver- comed h sation with friends. his role. But this summer, noise around case at homosexuality in the United that lac Method- ster, lost his on creden- er marrying gay son to man. After hases of his front of the Methodist - s judicial Schaefer frocked for 4 his pasto- . Six months an appeals church offi-Y rturned that u and wel- im back into J This is one IX mong hundreds ILLUSTRATIONS BY MEGAN MULHOLLAND ks fluid consen- THE WEEKLY REEL THE TOXIC TOUR Methodist Church compelled me sus. Some bishops punish to return to 10 o'clock service on clergymen and women who have a 90-degree morning, to join indi- openly performed gay marriages viduals who believed our church's with preventing them to work for a mission statement should change, day or a week. Other bishops revoke and propelled me to examine the their credentials entirely, shaming finite meaning of how I stand as a them and stripping them of the job Methodist. they passionately believe in. The The United Methodist Church differences in their approach to the today is at a crossroads. Among issue are immense and incoherent. all participants, from individuals My church's motto, "Open sitting in the pews, to pastors of Minds, Open Hearts, Open Doors," churches, to clergy of the Office which had been engrained in every of the Bishop, the discipline is pamphlet, Sunday school activity being scrutinized and changes are and sermon growing up, did not manifesting in some of the largest, hold true. In Ann Arbor, I found most tangible ways. The advocacy that the Wesley Foundation, a group, Reconciling Ministries University of Michigan campus Network, is mobilizing United ministry of the United Methodist Methodist Churches across the Church, was worlds ahead of my country to rewrite their mission church back home. One evening, statements and be open and affirm- I questioned Reverend Rob Roth, ing of all LGBTQ persons. the current chaplain of the Wesley Reverend Frank Schaefer, a Foundation, about how his church , sS A mostaa V transformed into a rec- onciling one - and as I did my own resistance to Methodism morphed. It didn't come from * *the facts that stood clear in my mind con- sistently. There are seven major passages in the Bible condemning homosexuality in some form - none of them are Jesus speaking, and more importantly, none of them speak to how we understand homo- sexuality or bisexuality in 2014. Modern psychology hasn't recognized homosexuality as men- tal illness for decades and Method- ism respects the science of its time. Methodism stays consistent to its interpretations. If we take Leviti- cus 18:22, "thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination," that would mean we would need to take every passage, every sin and punishment, literally. - But where my identity evolved was where I learned that being Methodist did not mean stand- ing with a list of beliefs every one of my fellow Methodists believed. Issues of homosexuality would not be on that list, because Methodism, unlike so many religions, does not have a list. We have articles of faith in our discipline that we respect but we are not a confessional church. Instead, we have a quadrilateral scripture that embodies: scripture, tradition, reason and experience. Methodists, by definition, means the person sitting next to you in the pew takes scripture, tradition, reason and experience in any form they believe. We are not taught or directed, we are enlightened and given the opportunity to interpret. And today, not enough have inter- preted and understood that those seven passages should not keep gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgen- der or any other humans out of the church. We must continue to inter- pret so others can continue to stand as Methodists. e W met in the student jour- nalism office at our subur- ban high school. She was on the yearbook staff, a grade older; I was an editor for the newspaper. It was like forbidden love. More onthat later. A year earlier, another newspa- per writer and I had lost a lengthy battle with our high school's admin- istration over the fate of the news- paper class. Over time, we fought their decision to cut the class by reincarnating the newspaper as an after school club. At that time, I had no idea how important this organi- zation, the office from which it was run and everything that came out of it would be in my life. We officially met on Valentine's Day: Feb. 14, 2011. It was sophomore year: the year I had a crush on Dar- ren Criss, worked backstage at my high school's production of Seussical the Musical and took AF U.S. His- tory. Though I recognized her face from all of the afternoons I had spent in that office, writing and editing stories, we had never had a real con- versation beforecthat day. In the years after, I'd forget the date of everything else that happened, but I would never forgot that date. Our first conversation was about "Glee," which we both watched reli- giously. Maybe this is an unusual (and typically high school) way for two people to become best friends - but all it took was that conversa- tion for us to connect. Suddenly, we were texting constantly and eating lunch together everyday in the jour- nalism office. In no time at all, I felt more comfortable around her than anyone else; we shared our deepest secrets and fears and dreams with each other and never, ever ran out of things to talk about. In this friend- ship, I found a deeper level of emo- tional intimacy than anything I had ever shared with another person. She was the best friend that I'd ever had. With all the similarities that allowed us to become such close friends, we were also incredibly dif- ferent. She was outgoing, where I was reserved; she loved taking pho- tographs, I loved to write. She was confident and sure of herself while I worried too much about what others thought of me. Ultimately, the news- paper gave me this relationship. We bonded over the ridiculous amounts of time we devoted to our publica- tions. The school yearbook contin- ued to win awards, while the school newspaper struggled to stay alive. Regardless, we both did a lot of our growingup in a computer lab. We kissed for the first time while we were watching a documentary on September 11. By this point, Iwas fill- ing out college applications and had been promoted to editor in chief of the now-monthly newspaper. She was a freshman in college and had moved several hours from home. It seemed like everything had changed since I was a sophomore, but our friendship endured it all. I'll never forget that moment. To this day, I don't know who started it. What I do know is that I enjoyed it, it was completely unexpected and it hit me straight in the head with no warning. The following week was perhaps the scariest time of my life. I had no idea what was happening: my world was turned upside down. One week I considered myself to be straight and her to be my best friend; the next, everything was different. The idea of my friendship changingscared me shitless. She was the only one I want- ed to talk to, yet she was the root of my insecurities. So began the coming out pro- cess: something I still can't stand. I have never been ashamed or embar- rassed of my sexuality - whatever it is - but I hate the act of telling. I feel like it is oftentimes similar to the fact that Ihave always worn glasses: something that is importantto me, in some ways, but mostly just a part of who Iam. I hate coming out because it makes me feel so vulnerable: what is to most people an afterthought is, to me, deeply personal. At the time, I had no idea how to define my sexuali- ty, unwilling to classify it as anything other than "not straight." I hated it, because I felt like I had to define it, though I wasn't sure what that definition was. I hated it, because of my friends never had to come out as straight. Coming out to each person presented a unique, complicated bat- tle with myself. After a lot of discussion and deep thinking, we decided to make our relationship official, but I had no one to share the happy news with. Instead, we started together on a path to self-discovery. I realized more and more, as every minute went by, how strongly I had felt towards her. Though I previously had crushes on boys, it was nothing compared to the way I felt when she walked into a room. Everything I had ever done, I wanted to do with her. Our relationship didn't survive my senior year of high school, but sometimes I wonder if she would still be in my life had we been in a boy-girl relationship. The pressures that came from falling in love while keeping it a secret and coming to terms with my own sexuality were immense. This put pressures on our relationship that no one should have to face. And being several hours apartonly made it that much worse. Looking back, all the signs were there. We were close in a way I had never been with any of my friends. But I had always identified as straight. Coming to terms with this change in my identity was a process I still struggle with day in and day out. I have learned that sexuality is a spectrum and is not as black and white as I previouslythought. Luckily, I had several people who stood by me throughout the ordeal, and for that I cannot thank them enough. I am blessed with open-minded friends and family who 0 z accepted and loved me for who S am. Without these people, S don't know how I would have made it through. For those who I didn't tell until after, the fact, S was sorry. Trust me wllW S say that keeping it a secret wasn't what I wanted. Ultimately, am I glad it hap- pened?orfour months ofhappiness meant more than I can say, but losing her assa friend because of it was sad- der than IScan possibly describe. But in the process,Slearned an incredible amount about who I was and what I wanted from the restcofmy life. Now, I work 20 hours a week for a newspaper with a legitimate budget and a circulation of 15,000. I'm dating a boy. My high school self wouldn't recognize me now. I'm happier than I've ever been but I am often reminded of how much easier my second relationship is over the first. I've never hesitated to hold his hand in public and I don't have to think twice when telling new friends and acquaintances that IShave a boy- friend. I'm more aware than ever of the privileges S have when ISam with him, and they are mind-blowing in comparison. And it makes me sad. Keepig her a secret hurt moretflM anything. If we were yien a chance, who kows what would have happened? She might still be in my life; we might have been happily ever after. But what remains is a new sense of strength and confidence in who S am Now, S am unafraid. T H E statement Magazine Editor: Photo Editor: Managing Editor: Carlina Duan Ruby Wallau Katie Burke Deputy Editors: Illustrator: Max Radwin Megan Mulholland Amrutha Sivakumar Editor in Chief: Design Editor: Peter Shahin Amy Mackens Copy Editors: Mark Ossolinski Meaghan Thompson COVER BY RUBY WALLAU