Dispatches from Purgatory (Experiences from the YSA ward)
by Natalie Tanner
It’s been interesting to be in a state that has always been described to me as a purgatory:
being 25 years old in a YSA ward. It’s infantilizing, yet I am deeply aware this is the most equality I’ve experienced as a member of the church.
Our weekly FHE activities echo of Mutual activities and often follow the same structure and guidelines. Sometimes it feels difficult to have adult conversations when watching a Disney movie and cutting out paper hearts. Of course, it’s ladies at the helm of these activities. They organize and announce each activity. Each one is clearly thoughtful, even if it’s leaning childish. It resembles equal representation, even if it still neatly falls into an approved gender stereotype.
Things tend to run a little silly in YSA wards. Some of it is inevitable: there’s a huge difference between an 18-year-old and a 25-year-old. I am happy that there are activities for everyone. But there is a moment when the FHE committee announces that we will be playing Where’s Waldo at the mall when you realize you can’t be caught playing this without any kids being involved. It could maybe be fun. But even if it is, I can’t imagine telling my coworkers about it.
In my almost ten years of purgatory, only twice has there been an equal amount of men and women in the ward. As a result, women are included a little more in the decisions than in a regular family ward to compensate for greater disparity. I have to swallow the internal unrest about the existence of these non-essential and YSA specific callings (FHE coordinators, ward activity chairs, etc.) being the only times women get equal seating.
It’s both patronizing and refreshing. Sometimes it even feels safe.
As some may not be aware: YSA men are now allowed to serve in YSA bishoprics and high council. It’s nice to see that Church leadership have realized that unmarried men have been unfairly shut out of the decision making and have rectified the situation. Now, instead of a married, older man asking me questions about my sexual activity, it’s a peer whom I will see later at the afore-mentioned activities.
On the other hand, we rarely have men interrupting our Relief Society meetings or activities. Luckily, we have the bishoprics’ wives around to keep us in line. It’s both patronizing and refreshing. Sometimes it even feels safe.
The sacrament program is its own unique experience: almost always equally represented across genders, but with a surprising age component. In my experience, the youngest people and RMs are the favored speakers. This has been a consistent observation—most of the difficult trials being shared over the pulpit include a roommate not doing her dishes or family members only having an hour to talk on P. Day. I choose not to engage with the thought that speakers are chosen based on their youth (i.e. date-ability) and not the spiritual value they bring to the meeting.
The hardest thing to navigate is the older bishopric members genuinely rooting for me and my career as I pursue an advanced degree. They are so proud of me and are willing to open doors wherever I need them. They are usually wealthy, respected, and established in the community. But I will never sit up on the stand with them, despite my advanced education. The highest rank I can achieve is in a YSA is Relief Society president—unless someone puts a ring on my hand. And there are subtle warnings (even from these dear, encouraging father figures) that my ambition and level of education is likely slowing that process down. It might even prevent me from ever leaving this purgatory.
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