As the first professional midwife elected to a state legislature in modern times, Holly Richardson already has an impressive influence. But her reach doesn’t end there: as the author of one of Utah’s most influential political blogs, Holly on the Hill, and as the mother of 24 children (20 adopted from 8 countries), Holly desire to serve, improve others’ lives and be involved in her community inspire countless people. Holly talks about her journey into adoption, the death of four of her children, her love of politics and her desire to follow the Spirit wherever it leads next. Would you introduce your family? My husband and I have been married almost 26 years and we have 24 kids. We adopted 20 of them; I gave birth to 4. Twenty are still living. We have kids from 8 different countries. Currently, I have 2 married sons, 2 adult daughters who are out of the home, one son on a mission in Virginia, and then two little girls in Africa who we haven’t been able to get visas for. The other 12 are minors and are still at home. We did not start our family thinking we would go down this path. We had three little kids – and I mean little! My baby was only 10 days old – when Nikolai Ceausescu was assassinated in Romania and within a few weeks, stories of the horrors of Romanian orphanages started to trickle out. This was early 1990. All year long, we had in the back of our minds, “Gosh, we wish we could go to Romania and adopt!” We didn’t think we would get it to work out, but at Christmastime in 1990, my husband was watching a television show about orphans in Romania. He called me in to watch with him. The reporters had been to Romania several times taking pictures and interviewing families who had adopted from there. And as we were watching, we were just engulfed in the Spirit, absolutely engulfed. We looked at each and said, “We have got to go.” A few weeks later, I was on a plane to Romania! I was still nursing my baby, but I left the baby and our two other kids at home. I didn’t know how long I’d stay or how we’d afford it but we went forward in faith. In the end, I adopted two little girls while I was over there. My mother and mother-in-law helped take care of my kids because I was actually gone for two months. I came home with those two little girls and that was the beginning of our journey. When I told my husband about the condition of the orphanages, I said, “If there is any way we can continue to adopt children who need families, I want to do it.” It turns out there have been 20 kids we have been able to help in that way. Most of our kids came internationally – there have been a few we’ve adopted domestically – but that was the beginning of our journey with adoption. Would you describe your day-to-day life of your household? My youngest now is about to turn 8, so things are a little calmer in our home than they have been in the past. At our peak at home, we had 20 kids from an infant under a year up to a 17 year old. It was a lot of fun to have them all home at once. The most difficult year I had was the first year after I adopted those two Romanian girls because I ended up with three 1-year-olds, one of them with Down syndrome, and a 2-year-old who was disabled, and then my oldest was barely 4. I had 5 kids four and under, only one potty-trained. I’ll be honest – I can hardly remember that year but we got through it, the kids got older and we kept going. How did you figure out how to do this? What were your resources? We got better at it with practice. After the first time, every time we added a new child, we knew what to expect, so it got easier to add kids in. In fact, going from 14 to 18 was one of our easier transitions. The new four were four different ages – I had a newborn, a 4 year old, 7 year old, and 12 year old with that adoption – but we were able to fit them in relatively easily because we’d had so much experience by that point. Everybody wants to know how I cook for that many people. The answer is I just double and triple and quadruple and octuple the recipes. I octuple most of my recipes. We don’t do prepared foods, because we can’t afford it for one thing. Imagine how many boxes of Hamburger Helper we’d need! So – we cook from scratch. I teach my kids how to cook. I have eight teenagers at home currently, plus two who are 12 and one more who will be 12 soon old. We rotate with all of them so that they get experience. When they go out into the world and they go on missions or to college, these kids know how to work and they know how to cook. That’s been something over a long period of time we’ve trained our kids to do: to work and be part of the family and be participatory. In fact, in that adoption I mentioned earlier when we went from 14 to 18, the kids were all from Ethiopia and the 12 year old was a boy. When we introduced him to the job rotation, it was his turn to do the dishes and he said, “I don’t do that. That’s women’s work.” We just said, “Welcome to America! We all work!” He rotated in and learned those skills. That’s how we do it. We all work together as a family. I did teach them out of necessity that everyone has to pitch in. Holly Richardson In fact, I had one daughter who potty trained one of my kids for me! She was so sick of changing diapers on this one little boy that, one time when I was out of town, she trained him with M&Ms. That was great! How were your biological children affected by your decision to adopt? You know, it was just so normal for them. My oldest child turned 4 just when we got the two Romanian girls, so it has always been a part of their lives. I had one additional biological child a few years after we did our first adoption. He’s 17 now. It’s just normal for them. In fact, that 17 year old, when he was 5 or 6 was just sobbing one day. “I only have one mom! I want to have two moms like everybody else!” He cried and cried because the other kids would talk about their birth moms and their birth families; even though, for most of the kids, we don’t know the birth families or have any details about them, the kids are aware they exist. The ones who came to us older remember their birth families. As they’ve gotten older, we’ve dealt with the behavioral and emotional problems that come. We’ve dealt with mental illness; we’ve dealt with trauma and attachment issues. All of the kinds of things you’d expect. And when we first started coming up against these issues, it was overwhelming. But now after twenty years of experience, we know what’s going on and we know how to get through it. One of my daughters – we adopted her at 5 and a half from Kazakhstan and she’s now 23 – is a single mom, but I’ve never seen a mom love her baby more than she loves hers. My daughter always struggled with attachment issues; I’m not sure she ever fully attached to our family until she became a mom herself. Now, though, she could not love her daughter more and that’s so healing for everyone concerned. She was able to learn by example how you treat babies and then she let herself do that with her own child. I’m very proud of her. It’s scary to love and to trust when you’ve been burned before and as a five year old, she had been burned. You mentioned that only 20 of your 24 children are living. Would you talk about the four that have passed away? When we adopted in 1991, I came home with 2 little girls. One was 18 months old and only 13 pounds, and she had Down syndrome. She was very disabled, less functional than most children with Down syndrome. She never walked, for instance, and she never talked. When she was 5, she choked on a peanut butter sandwich. That was our first loss. It was so unexpected since the Down syndrome alone wouldn’t have significantly shortened her expected life, but the day she died I remembered a blessing I received while I was getting her four years earlier in Romania. It said, “For the short time that you have her, she’ll be a blessing to you and those around her.” And I remembered thinking in the blessing, “I wonder if she’s going to die young.” I immediately dismissed it out of my mind, but then it came back to me the day she died. My second biological daughter was born severely handicapped. In 1988, the doctors told us she’d maybe live a year, then it was four years, then they said she might live until she was ten. In fact, she lived until she was 17 years old and she died two weeks after she turned 17, in 2005. So we knew that one was coming. It’s a different kind of grief. I had multiple miscarriages as well. Even though we were adopting and we loved these other kids, I was not ready to be done having biological children. Then there was a little girl we adopted from Africa. I had traveled to Africa to pick her up, but we were having visa issues so I had to leave her there. She was healthy when I left her but then she got meningitis and she died before we could bring her home a couple of years ago. And then, one year ago exactly, my youngest daughter died at three years old. When we adopted her, she was missing most of her brain. She had fluid instead of brain tissue. She had had a family that was lined up to adopt her, but when the doctors realized the extent of the brain damage – that she would be blind, that she would be completely dependent – the other family didn’t feel like they could take a child with that level of need. She came to us as a 9 day old baby. We went in eyes wide open, knowing the heartache that would come but knowing that it would be worth it to love her in this life. I held her almost all day every day of her life. She died in her sleep. It was expected in that we knew her life would not be long, but it was unexpected in that she hadn’t been sick. It’s still one of the greatest heartaches of my life because I adored her so much. I went into all of this voluntarily. The day I adopted her, I knew I would one day go through that grief. Like everything, when you do it more than once, it gets easier. It’s not that the grieving gets easier, but I know that I’ll get through it. I know that there’s an end, that there’s a light on the other side. I hate grieving. It’s so visceral and consuming. It colors everything in your whole life. But you do get through it, and you’re able to look back with fondness and tenderness. I was blessed to have a profound spiritual experience with my last little daughter. I had had experiences where babies came to visit me, regardless of whether I was pregnant or if I was adopting. If the child coming to us was older, I didn’t have the experience, but if I was having a baby or adopting a baby, they would visit me. I never saw anyone, but I would feel a presence and I would know there was a spirit nearby. With Angelia, my littlest, my son called to tell me she wasn’t breathing and I was in the car with my husband driving home when I could feel her near me. I could feel that she loved me and that she was happy. There were no words; that was it. That’s been one of the biggest blessings: I can say, “I loved that little girl who never spoke, who never saw me.” I just adored her and I miss her a lot. I know she’s happy. Holly Richardson You’ve served on the Utah State Legislature and write one of Utah’s most influential political blogs. But if was midwifery that got you into politics. Have you always been interested in midwifery? As it turns out, I didn’t even know the word “midwife” until I was an adult and had already graduated from nursing school. But when I was young, I wanted to do things with moms and babies. I wanted to be an obstetrician and my very first college paper I ever wrote was comparing and contrasting three different methods of natural childbirth. So, well before I had my own kids, I was very interested in it. I became a registered nurse. I worked in labor and delivery and post partum care in a hospital, then I started teaching natural childbirth classes and became a doula and from there I became a midwife. That was 12 years ago. I love being a midwife. I’m on hiatus right now; I don’t know if I’ll go back to it, but I love it. In 2000, in Utah, we had a midwife who was arrested for practicing medicine without a license, and I realized that we had to fix that problem. I actually had no interest in politics. I voted, but nothing beyond that. But I was just so driven that this was something was wrong and had to be righted. So a group of us got together and started working on changing Utah’s laws. We worked for years – in fact, we went through five different legislative sessions before we got our bill passed in 2005. It was totally on the job training. I had to learn how to lobby. There was no money involved, it was totally citizen activism, but we had to present our case and talk to legislators on both sides of the aisle. We had sponsors from both parties and as I worked and worked, I realized that I just loved politics. I kept going up to Capitol Hill here in Utah even after our bill was passed. In 2009, I was on the hill one day, and I was bored. I have ADD, and I didn’t have a bill on the floor or any specific issue I was following, but I wanted to make sure that nobody was going to try to change our midwife law. Plus, I just loved the environment. In order to have something to do, I started a blog, Holly on the Hill. It just took off, and it’s become one of the most popular political blogs in Utah. And really it was just something I started to keep myself awake and engaged while I was sitting there listening to meetings! Then, in January 2010, there was a special election held for a state representative and I was elected into the position by the delegates in my area. It was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me and one of the best years of my life because I felt like I was really able to make a difference. After just a year in office, I decided to step down to work on a national senate campaign. It has been one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made – and one of the best. It’s not one of the hardest experiences I’ve ever had – burying my children is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done – but one of the hardest decisions. I had to decide if I would stay in the legislature, or if I would resign from the legislature to work on the national senate campaign. The truth is, I decided three times that I was going to stay in the legislature, but when I went to pray about it, three times the answer was, “That’s not the right decision for you. You need to step down.” I admit, I cried! I still cry about the decision because it’s something I loved so much. Even with the negative stuff that comes with being a legislator – you become a target, and a lot of people feel free to tell you how rotten you are—I loved feeling like I was out there really making a difference, having an influence over laws that impact people’s lives. I think I brought something to the table, both as a woman and someone who’s outspoken. There are very, very few women on Utah’s Capitol Hill, but I was surprised at how many legislators are not very outspoken. I’m very outspoken. I say what I think. Other people make controversial votes and then never talk about it again, but I say, “I know you’re wondering why I made that vote. Here’s why I did it. Here’s what I think.” I loved being able to talk in a way that engendered respect from people who agreed and disagreed with me. I could defend my position, explain why I thought the way I did. Holly Richardson on Her Wedding Day Do you see any connection between politics and spirituality? Absolutely. I wouldn’t have thought there was a connection before I started working in politics, but there were plenty of times when I prayed over votes that I made. I believe there is a place for spirituality in politics. I’m not going around quoting the Book of Mormon to my colleagues, but I’m not just a “Sunday Mormon” either. I’m an “everyday Mormon.” I believe it every day, and it affects my actions. I think as a religious person you have to be sensitive politically. A lot of people are uncomfortable with others wearing their religion on their sleeves. We have a broad range of religions represented on Capitol Hill here in Utah, including Jewish representatives as well as other Christian denominations. We talk about God, we pray every day to start our floor discussions, we pledge allegiance to the flag. But it’s not an opportunity to bear your testimony. Personally, I would never campaign on the fact that I’m LDS. I find that inappropriate and offensive when other people list their church callings on campaign materials as if it’s a qualification for being elected. I’ve seen flyers where someone will say, “Vote for me because I’ve been a stake president.” I’ve never seen a woman tout her Relief Society calling! Do you have any comments about the current political situation? I’m a Republican because of my religion, and there are Mormons who are Democrats because of their religion. I know Mormons who are Libertarian because of their religion. I think that’s another reason you need to be sensitive: you can find ways that each party’s positions mesh with LDS doctrine. In fact, I’ve even heard people say that Communism meshes with the gospel in regards to the United Order. Even though I disagree, I respect the fact that I have friends of other parties who are staunch LDS members. When I look at the United States’ political activity, I believe primarily that we should be involved. In many ways, as LDS members, we should be even more involved. If we believe this is the Land of Promise, we should do our very best to make sure we have good people in office and that we’re involved. If we look to the Book of Mormon, we see that if the majority of people don’t choose good, then the governments change and things don’t go so well. I’m disappointed by how few people are really engaged in politics, especially in Utah. In Nevada, at the recent presidential primary, the LDS turnout among voters was much higher than their representation in the population. I think they’re 9% of the state, but 23% of the people in the caucuses were Mormon. They had a strong turnout, which was great. The phrase, “All publicity is good publicity” is true in politics as in many other industries. With Mitt Romney running for president of the United States, I’ve realized there’s way more anti-Mormon sentiment than I thought. I think that’s entirely what happened in the South Carolina primary – his loss didn’t have to do with policy. But at the same time, when he ran four years ago, people had the “Could we have a Mormon for president?” reaction and now it’s more, “Yeah, he’s Mormon but can he do the job?” I think it’s becoming less and less of an issue. It’s like me running as a midwife. My being a midwife was not an issue when I ran for my legislative position, but it would have been if I had run ten years ago. As it was, I had been around the Hill, people knew me from my participation and from my blog, and so the fact that I was a midwife wasn’t that big a deal even though I was the first certified professional midwife elected to a state legislature in modern times. Now, it’s on to the next adventure! I’m super involved in the national senate campaign right now and I can’t tell you how that is going to end. I just know it is what I am supposed to be doing right now. When the next doors open and opportunities come, I’ll pray about them and go with the Spirit that time too. Following the Spirit is truly the adventure of a lifetime! At A Glance Name: Holly Richardson Location: Pleasant Grove, UT Age: 47 Marital status: Married on April 17, 1986 Children: 24 children, 20 living, from age 7 through 24 Occupation: Political activist, midwife Schools Attended: BYU, Midwives’ College of Utah Languages Spoken at Home: English Favorite Hymn: “Because I Have Been Given Much” On The Web: www.HollyontheHill.com Interview by Neylan McBaine.

As the Director of Education at Brigham Young University’s Museum of Art, Ann Lambson has made it her life’s work to connect people with art. She uses museum education to engage the local community with art in ways that are accessible and meaningful. Raised in a family that encouraged education and creative thinking, Ann believes the arts are essential to holistic learning and fundamental to who we are as children of God. How did you get involved with museum education? My mom is a professional violinist and musician; my dad, a lawyer, is also a writer who dabbled in painting and sketching, so I was surrounded by the arts while a child and teenager. My family values the arts, and of course this had a huge influence on me while growing up. A message from my parents that I heard over and over was: Study and do what you love because that will always be part of your life. I remember my dad told me as I prepared to go to college, “You need to learn to write well. You need to learn to think critically, but ultimately find and do what you love.” There was never an expectation that we had to do what someone else was doing. Of course we had expectations in our family life in the sense that the gospel was very important, but my parents never laid out for me the idea that there’s only one way to go. Their counsel and guidance continues to shape who I am.When I was in high school I was interested in a number of things including education. I also knew that art was something I loved, especially architecture. In high school I spent a lot of time going to art museums and different historic buildings and sites. I always had that duel love of education and art. By the end of my sophomore year at Brigham Young University, I became an Art History major. I really had a passion for learning about art. I planned to go on for a Master’s degree and a PhD because I wanted to become a professor. While I was getting my Master’s degree in Art History and Curatorial Studies at BYU, I worked for a large preschool and coordinated afterschool programs for two local elementary schools. I remember thinking at the time, “How does this job even mesh with what I’m doing in art history?” I was very much on the art history track and planning to be a professor. Ultimately, that preschool job became a huge stepping-stone towards my decision to go into museum education where I could work with children on a daily basis. I was also a curatorial assistant at BYU’s Museum of Art at the time. While working there, I was introduced to the world of museums and found that my passion was truly in museum education. I loved the idea of opening up the arts to a broader audience. Ann Baier Lambson Where has your museum education career taken you? Currently, I am the Head of Education at BYU’s Museum of Art. Jeff, my husband, is the Curator of Contemporary Art here as well. It’s been an incredible opportunity to have meaningful work in a shared field. One of the things that Jeff and I committed to early on as a couple was to use art as an influence for good. We understood the power of art. We thought that if we could be advocates for the arts in this field, we could make a contribution towards helping young people and affecting change in our communities. Both of us have had many opportunities to work with young people – children, teens, and college students. It’s been miraculous how our jobs have come together. Jeff and I moved to Washington, D.C. in our mid 20s after we had finished our schooling. We had no jobs lined up, but we were blessed to find jobs in our field fairly quickly. I studied architectural history as a Master’s student. I remember the first time I discovered the National Building Museum. I could not believe there was a national museum dedicated to what I loved and felt was important. I thought, “If I could ever work there it would be a complete dream.” And that’s actually where I ended up spending most of my career while we were in Washington, D.C. Jeff was hired at the Smithsonian Institution’s Hirshhorn Museum. We always look back and realize that aside from having a love and a passion for art, we can see the Lord’s hand confirming that we should be in this field; having a job in the arts takes quite a bit of effort, especially initially, but so many times we have been blessed with amazing opportunities. What is your vision as the Director of Education at BYU’s Museum of Art? My broader vision of education at the museum is to open art up to as many people as possible. We need to create opportunities for people of all ages to experience art, to be around the real authentic object. It’s such an incredible experience, especially when we live in this virtual world, to experience the real object; it is absolutely moving and has the ability to change our thoughts and actions. Ann Lambson and Her Family I hope that the Museum of Art increasingly becomes a place where people can feel, a place where they can learn, a place where they can think. And it’s not just about what’s in your mind, it’s about feeling. That takes time. It means you have to slow things down and not always be rushing around and trying to accomplish as much as you can. It’s about feeling in the moment. When Jeff and I are out in nature, we’re out in nature. We’re enjoying it and being present and not always thinking ahead to the next thing. I think that’s what a museum can do. I hope that it becomes a place where people can be present in the experience. What role do you think art plays in our communities and families? Art isn’t just extra fluff. Art isn’t just enrichment, but it is a key part of who we are as human beings. I think about creativity as a divine attribute. When we create we are doing something that connects us more deeply to our Heavenly Father and to Christ. As we build creativity into our lives, into our homes, into our families and communities we are creating a better world. Our families become stronger because the Spirit is present. I experienced this in my family growing up. My mom is a deeply sensitive woman and was such a wonderful example of creating—baking bread, making candles, growing herbs. In our home we learned how to use our hands to create a beautiful environment. Brigham Young said, “Cultivate the earth and cultivate your minds. Build cities, adorn your habitations, make gardens, orchards, and vineyards, and render the earth so pleasant that when you look about your labors you may do so with pleasure, and that angels may delight to come and visit your beautiful locations.” Even in creating our surroundings, we should think about inviting the angels to be with us. How does your background in and love for the arts influence how your raise your own family? Jeff and I have always taken our 7 year old daughter Lizzie to art museums and musical performances. We have art supplies and musical instruments at home. She is part of any creating I do. When I go out to our yard to trim the roses or plant flowers, Lizzie has her own little plot, and she helps me to put the plants in. Of course it’s more efficient to just do it on my own, but it’s so much better to teach my daughter how to do these things and to help her appreciate and love her surroundings and say, “Look at these beautiful things that Heavenly Father has created, and we get to be part of it.” We’ve also tried to travel a lot and expose her to different places, people, and experiences. She loves collecting things–rocks or tree branches. We let the collections come into our home and we don’t worry about it. It allows her to explore and gives her opportunity to help create her own surroundings. One of the main things I’ve learned as a mother is that Lizzie is her own individual being and entity; that’s how she came. Pretty quickly I realized she is who she is and my job as a mother is to help guide her. At points we have to course correct, but it’s not about having her fit into some little box or some vision of who I think she should be. Rather, it’s about recognizing how beautiful and unique she is. Lizzie’s so different from me and so different from Jeff. We realize that it is our job not to squelch that creativity and that individuality but to help guide it. Ann Lambson and Her Daughter As Mormons, do you think we have a specific responsibility towards the arts? Absolutely. When you take art out of the equation, you’re literally removing a part of your soul and the soul of your community. As Latter-day Saints, we need to play an important role in advocating for the arts and having arts in our schools and in our communities. It’s not only about reading and math. Art is an innate part of who we are as human beings. It’s inseparable. Often times in our educational system we separate out the ways in which we learn into separate subjects–you have art, you have math, you have science, etc. It’s so compartmentalized. Our brains don’t work that way, our lives don’t work that way. In the process of all that compartmentalizing, you often stop seeing how it’s all interconnected. You don’t see that when you’re creating art you might also be learning about math or using skills from the sciences. I worked as the director of BYU’s Education in Zion Gallery before coming to the Museum of Art. It is an incredible space that focuses on the importance of education in our faith. Karl G. Maeser’s philosophy on learning embodied the idea of an education of the whole soul. In the Doctrine & Covenants, “soul” is defined as both body and spirit. When you think about it, the education of the whole soul is an education of the intellect but also one of the heart and of the body. It’s a social education. We’re multifaceted. We’re not comprised of separate and unrelated aspects. We’re holistic beings. Art plays such a critical role in helping to tie some of this together and in helping to make us more aware of this interconnectedness. Art and museum education are part of your larger passion for education in general. How has education come to play such a key role in your life? My passion for education has a lot to do with the family in which I was raised and nurtured. Both of my grandfathers were unable to finish high school. My maternal grandfather was from an immigrant family who came to America from England after World War I. His mother was a war widow from that war, and he left school at 14 years old to help support his family and siblings’ schooling. My dad’s father didn’t finish high school either; although both grandfathers later went on to obtain their GEDs. My grandparents made sure my parents went to college and on to graduate school. It’s not that education wasn’t important to my grandparents. It’s that they weren’t given certain opportunities financially and so forth. I always look back at their examples and the sacrifices that were made in each generation. I value the opportunities I’ve had with education, and I value the many sacrifices that came before me that helped to put me in this position. There’s a great quote from one of our early U.S. presidents, President John Adams. He said, “I must study politics and war, that my sons may have the liberty to study mathematics and philosophy, natural history and naval architecture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, tapestry, and porcelain.” Each generation sacrifices to allow the next to reach a point of security. The basic needs in life must be met which then allows one to study the arts. Ann Lambson and Her Family My maternal grandfather wrote me a lengthy letter while I was in college in which he told me not to paint too soon for my bread. He was referencing Karl G. Maeser who said, “Eagerness to earn bread and butter has overshadowed many a golden opportunity.” So often we feel that we have to get on with our life, that we have to get our degree, get our job, get going and check off certain milestones like buying a house and whatever else is on our list. In fact, it’s best if we can just spend more time learning. It’s such a special period when you’re in college. At the time you think you’re stressed more than you can imagine and you have more responsibilities than you can imagine when in fact it’s a period of life when you are focused on learning; your primary responsibility is to learn and to expand your mind. Life is so much faster, more complex after college. Also, both of my grandfathers were so open to truth. In fact, my paternal grandfather joined the church with my grandmother, my 16-yr-old uncle, and my 14-yr-old dad. My grandfather had an expansive mind. He wasn’t formally educated but the way in which he approached truth and sought truth made him receptive when the gospel was introduced to him. I’ve always tried to have an openness like that. Because of their examples and my upbringing, education has been a driving force in my life: it’s part of my life’s work as a mother, as an individual, and as a museum educator. Joseph Smith said, “The first and fundamental principle of our holy religion is that we believe that we have a right to embrace all and every item of truth.” That is who we are. That’s what I strive to be. I strive to find truth. I strive to be open. At A Glance Name: Ann Baier Lambson Location: Provo, UT Age: 37 Marital status: Married 15 years Children: On daughter, age 7 Occupation: Museum educator Schools Attended: BYU Languages Spoken at Home: English Favorite Hymn: “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” and “Now Let Us Rejoice” Interview by Krisanne Hastings.

Trained as a doctor, Jenny Sato abandoned her medical practice when she left her native China to marry her Japanese husband. Now in Yokohama, Jenny is engaged in volunteer work and lending her varied talents to the expatriate community there. She focuses on her new membership in the Gospel and her 12-year-old son. How did you start a career in medicine? My mother is a pediatrician in China, so she encouraged me to do lots of things related to the medical field. I studied at a medical school in my hometown, the Har Bin medical university, then moved to the southern part and worked in the Shia Men hospital. And you also worked as an interpreter? Yes, it’s a funny coincidence. I was in southern China and no one else at the hospital spoke very good English; they had all started in an old style Chinese school. I thought my English wasn’t very fluent, I wasn’t very confident to do interpreting, but I think there was no other choice since I was the only person who could try. There were lots of specialists who came from America and Singapore to aid on the operations, and they needed an interpreter to stay in the operation room and to help them translate, talk to the nurses, get the proper guidance to do the operation… That’s kind of a life and death situation! I think I just started to train myself on how to handle those kinds of emergency situations, and the language just started popping out when I needed it. In the beginning, I think I made lots of mistakes but I’ve learned from my mistakes. I was an ophthalmologist in China and then in Singapore, where I met my husband. At the time, I didn’t think I would ever get married. I was literally getting old! But we got married in Singapore and my son was born there. Afterwards, my husband received another assignment to go to Switzerland. After we moved, I was thinking I needed to utilize the knowledge I had gained in Singapore, so I looked for a job in Switzerland. Whenever you move to different countries, you have to change your medical license. It’s like a driver’s license: anywhere you go, you have to change the license, but in the medical field, they don’t have international medical licenses so I had to be a little bit more flexible… I decided to just do basic research and nobody was going to ask me about medicine. Jenny (Tan Yi) Sato Incredibly, it was so easy: a professor told me he was looking for a lab technician, and the people who came to interview there were firefighters, or people working in a pharmacy who had never ever done any technical work! He just laughed: I was the only person who really met the requirement, and he was very happy. I felt like in Europe, if you’re not European or American, you’re a third class. They consider those people to be third class, but I was hired very smoothly because I had that special field I learned during my Ph.D. studies. I worked in immunohistochemistry for five years, and I enjoyed it very much. We diagnosed pathologies; for instance if a doctor removes a piece of tumor from a patient’s breast or brain, or anywhere, they need to send the tissues to the laboratory to do immune tests, we use different antibodies to test out whether those tumors are benign tumors or malignant tumors, or just fibroid. We would test out exactly what kind of tumor it was. When you met the missionaries, what made you listen? I think the first lesson they taught me was very interesting. It was the plan of salvation and the sister missionary drew a rainbow. It was very symbolic, something like: “once we accept Jesus Christ we can cross the rainbow and receive blessings.” It was nothing very pushy. The first lesson with the sister missionaries made me feel I wanted to know more about it. It was very easy to accept the things she taught me. I gained my testimony through the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit was always with me, making me feel so warm and so peaceful in my heart. Every time I had difficulties I needed to overcome, all the things I couldn’t imagine, we could just overcome those difficulties — not easily, but with the Holy Spirit’s help. That’s what made me feel so peaceful, and that’s what gave me such a strong testimony. Our Dear Heavenly Father cares about us and Jesus is our Savior. That’s wonderful. What sorts of things did you overcome with the Spirit? When we first arrived in Japan, my son couldn’t enroll into the international school. Normally, the international school has certain standards, they interview new students and I think he couldn’t pass it because he didn’t behave very well since we had just come from Switzerland… He looked very edgy, you know (laughs), but this school was a Catholic school, very systematic and very formal. The nun who was interviewing him, she was a very old nun, she had a veil covering her head and she didn’t like some boy to be very edgy and very naughty… that’s probably the first impression she had from my son. He was basically refused twice – refused twice! And that time I was really upset. He wasn’t enrolled into a decent international school, he couldn’t have a proper education! We came all the way from Switzerland, moved to Japan. It was my husband’s home country. I thought once we moved here everything was going to be very smooth! It’s supposed to be wonderful because it’s his home country and he said “everything in Japan is perfect.” But I didn’t feel that way. It was just opposite – I thought we were miserable at that time. Then when I joined the Church, I think my son’s behavior got better. Surely attending the sacrament meeting, through the primary teaching, every Sunday he went to church… I think it wasn’t only the judgment by the school, it was a change of heart for my son and myself. We all became more obedient to God in a way; we were more humble to the outsiders, probably to that interviewer. So on the third time finally he passed the interview and he could enter the school. I was so relieved! I knew it from my heart, that’s a blessing from Dear Heavenly Father. My son is now twelve years old, and he’s taller than me. His name means “happy life” in Japanese. So you had a difficult time when you first moved to Japan? Did you feel lonely? In the beginning there is always some culture shock. The loneliness and not being accepted… the Japanese people are very polite, but they don’t talk to strangers so much. It’s not like in Switzerland or in America if we go out, some people bump into you and they might just chat with you on the bus or in the train or whatever. In Japan people are very reserved – they tend to keep their own space. They don’t always interact with all the others because otherwise it will create chaos in society! So people stay reserved and try to focus on their own business. I saw maybe thousands of people every day, just passing by me, but nobody would really say hello to me. It’s like you live on an island full of people, but you still feel so lonely! Is that weird? You’re still a nobody! I think that’s the time you need God the most, because God really wants to know you. He knows each one of us, I think that’s one of the things I felt, we need to get closer to our Dear Heavenly Father. It’s not just the loneliness, it’s kind of… it’s just emptiness in our heart. If we don’t have Jesus in our heart we will forever feel not meaningful, not fulfilled. Of course, now I have many friends, and there’s a huge expatriate community. And I had the Church: I was baptized three months after meeting the missionaries, just after we moved to Japan in 2006. And I understand part of the reason you were interested in the Gospel was because you wanted to find ways to strengthen your family’s relationship? Yes, in the beginning of our marriage we encountered lots of difficulties and sometimes I had conflicts with my husband since our opinions are different. We didn’t really appreciate each other so much in the beginning since we didn’t focus on the things that could help us work together. But through going to church, we learned about how families are important for us, Dear Heavenly Father wants us to go back to His kingdom with our families – it’s his plan for us. But Satan is always trying to distract us from focusing on our happiness. When my son and I were first baptized, my husband would always say, “It’s unbelievable, we have two Mormons in our family!” and my girlfriend joked, “You should tell him he’s going to be one too!” Jenny (Tan Yi) Sato with Her Husband and Son It’s like the hymn: we want to live with our family forever, families can be forever. Whenever I sang those hymns, I just felt so touched and moved in my heart. My husband could tell the difference in me after I went to Church. Before I was always trying to be tough, I was very offensive. I always said, “Oh, this is your fault,” and in the end he felt like he could do nothing right for his family. But since I started going to church, I appreciate the things he does for us… At least I don’t say “That’s your fault” anymore! I think that makes him feel much better. It’s been a heart-changing process; only Jesus can deliver us from our sorrows and from our conflicts within our family. Only He can deliver us. Tell me about your involvement with women’s organizations. I work with the Yokohama international women’s club, we do charity work. I think I can utilize some of the skills I have, and I’m doing hospitality work to get the new ladies involved. I think the most important gift from the Holy Spirit is love. You see, we need to love the people who are around us. We’re helping orphans in our community. In our community we have four different orphanages, and in total there are almost three hundred children. Some of them are cruelly disabled: they needed other people’s help. I think it’s really good for all those expatriates’ wives to be involved. They enjoy the life in Japan but they don’t always feel any obligation to help the needy, so I help them realize they can do something good for the local community: that’s why I’m involved. We do fundraising; we organize parties for the orphanages, we get the expat wives to buy Christmas presents for the orphans. We also arrange for them to have contact with the local children, so for example the local children can go to their school to play with them. Tell me about your personal style. I love fashion! Of course, as a Mormon lady, I won’t dress up very exposed and I need to always have modest dress. I enjoy everything as a Mormon lady, even though we wear garments. I love the garment, and now I couldn’t imagine taking off my garments, it’s my favorite thing. I feel so blessed by wearing garments because we can still dress up cute and very attractive without showing so much of our body, since our body is a temple. I think people really feel I’m very easy to approach, even though I dress up very trendy and very cheeky. It’s a way for people to give a good impression to others. If we respect ourselves more I think we get more respect from others. If we are dressed modestly, we have more respect from others. What is one of the biggest life lessons the Gospel has taught you? There are many lessons! But perhaps the biggest one is to be humble. Sometimes I can be really prideful, like if I did something really great, or sometimes my friends all praise me because I did something successful, and no matter what – in my heart, I shouldn’t be prideful, I should be always humble. God wants us to be teachable. In the entire book of Mormon, it’s just teaching us not to be prideful – we all learn that pride cycle: I like this lesson of the book of Mormon, not to be prideful. All the sins are related to pride, even killing or stealing. Once we become prideful and not humble, then we won’t listen to God anymore. We think, “Oh I can do it! I don’t need God!” But actually it’s really not true. And I’m teaching my son not to be prideful: whenever he gets a nice grade he gets excited and I say, “You need to be grateful to Dear Heavenly Father. This is not only because of you, it’s also a blessing of our Dear Heavenly Father.” At A Glance Name: Jenny (Tan Yi) Sato Location: Yokohama, Japan Age: 43 Marital status: Married Children: One 12 year old son Convert to Church: September 26, 2006 Schools Attended: Singapore National University Languages Spoken at Home: Japanese and English Favorite Hymn: “Families Can Be Together Forever” Interview by Lydia Defranchi.

A popular professor at Brigham Young University, Susan Easton Black was the first female full-time professor in the school’s religion department. When Susan become a single mother to three sons, she was forced to evaluate how best to provide for her young family. In her academic pursuits, Susan rediscovered her childhood love of church history stories and has crafted a vibrant career for herself which includes her most recent publication, Women of Character, a book profiling a hundred well-known LDS women through our history. You were the first female full-time religion professor at BYU. Would you describe how you got to that position? I grew up in Long Beach, CA and my grandmother lived with us. And she would tell me stories about various pioneers and Joseph Smith and family members who had crossed the plains. My interest in Church history started with that. Then I attended Brigham Young University and I took classes from a man named Milton V. Backman Jr. He told me the same stories my grandmother told but he knew how to document them. It was very exciting for me to listen to this professor, especially after my grandma had died. I went from the back rows of his classroom to the front rows. I convinced my parents to let me go on a Church history tour that Prof. Backman led one summer, and after I had seen Nauvoo I was completely enamored with everything about Church history. I graduated from BYU, married, and then had my family, but kept a friendship with Milt Backman. Susan Easton Black Did you know this would be a professional pursuit when you graduated from BYU? It doesn’t sound like you anticipated going back to school after you started your family. Like most of the women of my era, I anticipated that I would graduate and marry and have a family and that that would be my life. I had seen Church history as more like a hobby: something I’d continue to be interested in but not as a career. I had three children but then I went through a divorce, and I had to figure out how to support myself and my children. I concluded I’d go back to school. I was living in California at the time and although I had a bachelor’s degree from BYU, I discovered that if I wanted to teach there I needed more than a provisional certificate. I would need another two years of schooling to be hired by a California school district. I could get a master’s degree in one year, and then I could teach at a junior college, which would mean less time away from my children, who were four, three, and one at this time. So I concluded that going back to school to get a master’s was the quickest thing I could do. I had done my undergraduate work in political science and history and my master’s was in counseling. I thought I would end up at some junior college or at a high school as a counselor. When I finished my master’s degree, I got a job at a junior college in San Bernadino. I taught Psychology of Women and Psychology of the Individual. Nothing through all of that suggested I’d end up doing Church history. But interestingly, at the same time, I had a great interest in the scriptures–I was the gospel doctrine teacher in my local ward, and I enjoyed teaching as much there as I did in the professional teaching arena. During this time as a single mother, did you feel supported in your endeavors to provide for your family? I always felt supported by my family. A visiting teacher in my ward watched my children one day a week while I was in school. I could pay state tuition but not state tuition and babysitting, so she made it possible for me to go to school and I will be forever grateful to her. Susan Easton Black and Her Family In my master’s program, I discovered that I was doing well in school. I hadn’t felt like a particularly strong student as an undergraduate. But now I had a different attitude and I had a goal in mind: I felt that if I pursued a doctorate degree I could help my family have a house, a car, a real middle-class life. And at the same time, as a professor, I could spend fewer hours in the classroom–fewer than I would in the public school system–and I could write. I could write anywhere, even at home, so I felt that would enable me to still be a mother in the home as opposed to spending hours away from my family. That was the impetus. I got my doctorate in educational psychology with a minor in Church history at BYU. While I was working on my doctorate, I taught Book of Mormon and Church history classes part time, but before I had even finished my degree I was hired to be part of what was called the College of Family Living at BYU. I taught about such things as the psychology of consumerism and financial portfolio analysis. Were there other women you could look up to at that time? There weren’t a lot of women who were professors or had doctorates. I was only in that department for a few years – from 1978 to 1981 – but those years corresponded with the push for the Equal Rights Amendment in the United States. At that time the president of BYU was Dallin H. Oaks, who was raised by a single mother, much like my own sons. He began looking through the University to make sure there were female faculty members in each college. He discovered through that process that the Religion Department had not had a female full-time faculty member since the beginning of the University – 107 years! By this time, I was an ad hoc professor. I was teaching in my own field but also teaching about three religion classes at any one time. I was publishing in Church history and Book of Mormon, and so I was invited to transfer out of Family Living into a full-time position in the Religion Department. I’ll be forever grateful to Elder Oaks. To some extent, it was a difficult decision because I realized I’d go from opportunities to speak at professional organizations and conferences around the country to doing firesides and “Happy Birthday Relief Society” talks. So it has been! For example, I have a son who is a professor who asked me recently if I’d spoken in Washington D.C. I assured him I’d spoken at visitors’ centers, at the Washington D.C. Visitor’s Center, at mission conferences, firesides… Well, he was about to speak at the Pentagon! So the differences professionally are there, but so are the blessings that have come from making that choice. I don’t think I would have had the highlighted career I’ve had if I had stayed in psychology. The decision appears to have been right. Would you tell me about your second husband? My husband is now deceased. He died this past summer. I was a single parent for thirteen years. I had finished all my schooling and gotten well into my 40s as a single mother. When I remarried, my oldest was seventeen and I had been raising him alone since he was three. My husband and I were married for 25 years. You recently published a book of profiles of LDS women, Women of Character. What perspective have you gained on women in the Church since you’ve taught Church history and worked on this book? Our women go through different phases. For example, in Nauvoo only a few of the women were journal writers and there were many who fulfilled traditional roles. But once you get women crossing the plains and especially during the efforts to get the right to vote in Utah, women had opportunities to go East to get degrees and you see women being very vocal in the Church. Then you fast forward to today and you see women being cheered for stepping out and making a wonderful difference in their communities. We’re more featured than we have been in years past. In years past, we had a handful of women, like Eliza R. Snow and Emmeline B. Wells, who were public figures, but that was mostly associated with their high callings in the Church. But now our women around the world have a voice, whether it’s through a blog or politics or something featured in Mormon Times… I see a willingness to embrace women who are saying, “I can do the traditional roles and reach out with something to benefit my community.” Readers may already know some of the women profiled in Women of Character, but by putting them together in one book, my co-author and I are giving readers a wonderful perspective on what women throughout our history have done for the Church. That involvement builds in momentum until you get to today, with modern women who are making a difference all over the world. Susan Easton Black Would you share one or two stories that meant a lot to you as you researched the book? I had an opportunity to speak at the Winter Quarters’ Visitors’ Center several years ago about the pioneers. Metropolitan Opera soloist Ariel Bybee had also been asked to be on the program with me. She was to sing “Come, Come Ye Saints,” a hymn that is so closely associated with our own heritage. How many times had I heard that hymn? But this time I actually saw the professional singer perform it. It was such a physical performance; you would have thought she was on the opera stage in front of thousands of people. There was so much energy and power in her performance. At the end, sweat was just pouring down her face like she had given it her all. I remember saying to myself, “I always want to be a teacher like that; I don’t ever want to go into a classroom saying I’m just winging it today or I don’t know much about this topic so don’t worry about taking notes.” I wanted to magnify the talent I had in the same way she magnified hers. It was the first time I’d seen someone who really put “might, mind, and strength” into what she did. It didn’t matter that we were in the basement of a visitors’ center with barely a hundred people present. It was phenomenal. Another woman who had a big impact on me was named Ettie Lee. She never married. She had a strong interest in young men and was concerned that so many were dropping out of the Los Angeles school system. She felt the reason was that they didn’t have a lot of support or guidance at home. She tried to get grants and government support and philanthropy to help with these young men but she was having no luck. So she decided that if no one would support her work financially, she would. At the time, she was making $200 a month teaching junior high. She decided she’d take $100 of that each month and invest in real estate. It turned out she was really good at it and by the time she got close to her death she had purchased ten homes where young men could live and be mentored. She took 300 boys off the streets of Los Angeles each year and gave them an opportunity to live in those homes. She reached beyond her circumstances and helped so many others through the years. She made a marvelous difference. If you were to write this book in fifty or one hundred years, how do you think profiles of LDS women would change in the future? If I were to write a similar book, it would be even more difficult to narrow the field than it was for this one! But the ethnic backgrounds of the women would be much more diverse, much more international. The Church is moving forward and as it becomes established in so many countries, we’d still find women who have honed their talents and become exceptionally good at what they do, but the faces of the women would look dramatically different. There would be an international look to their profiles. Is there anything else you’d like to share in closing? For me, the message that I’ve learned in my life is that it isn’t what happens to the woman, it’s what she does with what happens. If women learn what their strengths are, and if they stick with those strengths, their lives seem to be happy. If you keep the commandments, there’s a sense of peace but there’s also a sense of confidence that you can do what you set your mind to regardless of the obstacles. I express a sense of gratitude that during the ups and downs, the good, bad, and ugly, we can know there’s a Father in Heaven who’s pulling for us, even when there are others who are claiming we can’t do things. Doors do open. You have a chance to be who you’re meant to be. I’m forever grateful for those who opened doors on my behalf and gave me a chance to teach the subjects I love. At A Glance Name: Susan Easton Black Location: Utah Children: Two sons Occupation: Professor at Brigham Young University Interview by Neylan McBaine.

Janet Hirano moved to Japan in her 20s to teach English for one year and ended up staying for 50. She married and raised a family, overcoming obstacles such as learning a new language, initial disapproval from her husband’s family, and her children enduring teasing for being “foreigners.” Janet recounts the importance of the Church in transitioning to her adopted country, how commitment and a sense of humor have helped her navigate the cultural waters, and that in some ways, she’s now more Japanese than American. What were the circumstances that led you to go to Japan initially? My father worked for the Union Pacific Railroad, so I grew up a little here and there in Idaho, Washington, and Utah. I graduated from BYU, taught school for a couple years, and then went on a mission to France from 1957 to 1959. When I came back, I felt rather unsettled. I had itchy feet, you might say. So with another female returned missionary, I applied to teach with the American military schools. On the application it asked where I would like to go, and I said, “England, West Germany, or Turkey.” But they replied, “We have an opening in Japan–would you like to accept it?” I wasn’t interested at all, because I didn’t know anything about Japan. But my mother said, “Why don’t you go for a year and just see?” If my mother had not encouraged me, I probably would not have gone. I went to Japan in 1961 when I was close to 30 years old. It’s been exactly 50 years this year (2011). You arrived not long after WWII. What were your feelings towards the Japanese and what was the sentiment towards Americans when you arrived? I had no critical feelings and found that most Japanese people were very accepting of Americans. Some older people were less so, but the younger people, by that time, were going to university and had a broader outlook on life. Janet Hansen Hirano What were your living and teaching arrangements like? At the end of the war, there was a joint security agreement made between Japan and the United States. Some American military forces stayed in Japan and built Air Force, Army, and Naval bases. On those bases were schools for the American military children. I lived in Tokyo in a military housing area that the American Government had taken right after the war. The American military branch of the Church met in the same housing area, but the school was a distance away, so we caught the bus to get there. My assignment was to teach third and fourth grades in the Army/Air Force schools. I enjoyed it very much and found that the children, maybe because of the military discipline, were very well behaved, easy to teach, and accepting of their teachers. But because it was just like being in an American school, it required no knowledge of Japanese language or society.When I first got there, I was teaching in the American school and living in American military housing. I had no contact with Japanese people, and that bothered me. I thought, “What am I here for? I might as well have stayed in the U.S.” I started to get out and explore, along with three other LDS girls who lived in the same dormitory. At that time, there was not much traffic. So the four of us bought an old car from a military man and we used to drive around and see things. Back then it was close enough to the end of the war that we didn’t have trouble with traffic. But I still hadn’t really met very many people yet. How did you meet your husband? I arrived in Japan in August, and met him sometime in September. There was a Shinto shrine not far from our dormitory that often held festivals. One day I heard music coming from the shrine. It was an autumn festival, and I wanted to get out of the dormitory to see what was going on. As I was walking along, a young man came up and asked if he could speak English with me. We talked for a while and then I continued on. I was going to return another way, but I was afraid I would get lost, so I headed back the way I came, and he was still there. We talked again and he asked if I would teach him English. That’s how I got to know him. My friends—the three other LDS girls—and I taught English to him and his friends. In return they taught us something about the Japanese culture. Janet Hansen Hirano Katsuya (my husband) had been interested in learning English since junior high school. He had had a very enthusiastic teacher and had been told while he was in university, “If you want to improve your English, try to speak to English-speaking people.” So we told them that we attended a church where everyone spoke English, and if they would like more opportunities to speak English, they were welcome to come. That was his first introduction to the Church. We had some wonderful LDS military families, and they were a big influence on him. He said he felt that if the Church produced good families like that then there must be something good about it. He was baptized about two years later. How did your courtship progress? Our friendship continued, and we started feeling a little stronger about each other. I returned home to the U.S. for one summer vacation, but continued working in Japan and had a lot of interesting experiences. Another summer I traveled to a different area of Japan to teach a seminar for Japanese teachers of English. We weren’t married until almost four years after we met. Part of the problem was that we worried a lot about the future. If we had children, would it be difficult for them because of our being a mixed race couple? What were your families’ reactions to the match? My family was not against it. My mother wasn’t happy about me living in Japan and being so far away, but she felt that as long as he was a worthy Church member and we got married in the temple, then she could handle it. My father had already passed away and my sisters never said anything in particular about it. His family was very much against it. When his parents found out that he was interested in an American who was a little older than he, and whom they considered handicapped, they were really upset. Being handicapped in Japan was very negative at that time (editor’s note: Janet had polio as a child and walks with a very slight limp). His mother went to the company where he was working to ask his boss to tell Katsuya not to marry “that girl.” She’s Buddhist, but she even went to a local Christian minister and asked him to talk to Katsuya. It was hard for him to go against his mother’s wishes. At one point we decided, “Let’s quit,” and I felt kind of relieved. I felt like I could just go home and forget all of it. But then we thought about it again, and it didn’t feel right. When I was home the summer before we got married, I wanted to speak to somebody about how the Church felt about our situation. I can’t remember how, but I happened to see Elder Gordon B. Hinckley. I went to his office and talked to him about it. He told me, “The Church is not against international or interracial marriages.” But he also said that it’s very difficult to assimilate into a culture that’s completely different from your own. We finally settled down and decided to get married. That was in 1965, just before the first group excursion from Japan to the Hawaiian temple. Everybody worked, held fundraisers, and saved, and we were able to go to the temple and get sealed. We had already been married civilly, not with a ceremony or anything. We had gone to the American Embassy and had all our papers signed and registered at the local city office. But we didn’t feel we were really married and didn’t start a married life until we went to the temple. After we got married, and often since then, we’ve decided that it was meant that we should be married. We felt the Spirit guided us in that. Years later, when we lived in Hokkaido and Katsuya was in the mission presidency, Elder Hinckley came to visit and we had dinner at the mission home. I said, “I talked to you about this a long time ago and we got married anyway.” He asked me, “Are you happy? Are you active in the Church? Are your children doing well? Well, it’s okay then.” Janet Hansen Hirano At what point did his family accept you? At first, his parents wouldn’t have anything to do with me and I thought, “Well if I can’t go and see them, then Katsuya can’t go and see them.” But I repented and felt that he should keep up a good relationship with his family. When our daughter Sanae was born, his mother came to see the baby. It was all right for them to visit us, but they were still not ready to invite me to visit them. They lived in a small town a couple hours away from Tokyo and they didn’t want me to come there because they didn’t know what the neighbors would say. I think it was partly a result of the war, but also because at that time arranged marriages were still common. All of his brothers had arranged marriages, so maybe the fact that ours wasn’t was hard for them. After his family finally got around to accepting me, the first big family reunion we attended was when Sanae was about six or seven. It wasn’t held in their hometown, but all his brothers and sisters and their families came. I was very pleased to go, even though they still didn’t invite me to their houses. My twin sister came to Japan to visit us after my husband’s mother died. Katsuya asked his father if he could bring us to visit him in his hometown, and his father said yes. That was the first time I’d been there since we got married. Father Hirano was very good to our children and that was very special for me. Since then, his brothers and sisters have all been very friendly. How was your transition to Japanese culture and everyday life? If it had not been for the Church, it would have been much more difficult. Wherever you go, the Church is there and the belief is the same, so the Church members were always very helpful. A woman usually has her own family support system once she gets married, but I was kind of on my own. A lot of the Japanese cooking that I learned at first, I learned at Relief Society. I have also had many Church responsibilities. Sometimes, because of his work, my husband was only at home at night two weeks out of the month. So I became occupied with adjusting, raising the children, taking care of the school things, and so on. There’s a word in Japanese, nonki. Nonki means to just accept things as they are. If something came along that had to be done, then you just did it. I think I was kind of nonki. Some of my Japanese friends say, “Sister Hirano, that was very hard for you, wasn’t it?” Offhand, I didn’t really think that it was hard. That’s part of the commitment when you get married and you decide you’re going to live somewhere. It’s what you do. We also had good neighbors and I’ve made friends wherever we lived. I regularly got requests to teach English to the neighbors’ children and did that a lot up in Hokkaido and Osaka. Our neighbors’ children also came to Primary with our children. I’ve almost always taught English in our home. We set up an English circle and I taught that group for years and they became not just students, but best friends. They still call me teacher and we get together two or three times a year. I really enjoy the Japanese people. How did you learn Japanese? I didn’t really study, although I should have. Mostly from just listening and speaking, and the vocabulary gradually came. In those first years, one difficult thing for me was answering the telephone. I did not like to answer the phone because if I didn’t understand what somebody was trying to tell me, I got upset. My initial plan was that when the children started school, I would learn the reading and writing along with them. In elementary, children learn 1,200 Kanji characters and every one of those characters has one or two different ways to read it. But I got busy, and it didn’t work out that way. When the kids got sick when they were little, my husband was working, so I had to take care of everything regarding their care, and I quickly learned things like that. At this point I don’t have any trouble speaking and I can do a lot of reading. Once in a while I find a kanji character that I don’t know. Now I read the Relief Society textbook in Japanese, and this year I’m reading the New Testament in Japanese and English. But if I want to pick up a book to read for relaxation, I’ll most likely choose something in English. Janet Hansen Hirano What language did you speak at home when your children were growing up? When we first got married and the children came along, it was just accepted that we would live in Japan, so Katsuya wanted the children to know Japanese well. But then I thought, “Church is Japanese, school is Japanese, and the neighborhood is Japanese.” So I began speaking to them in English quite a bit. One time we made a little rule that Monday was English day, Tuesday was Japanese day, and so on. But it didn’t work very well because I would speak to them in English and they’d answer me in Japanese. The first time that they really got interested in learning English was when we made a trip to Utah to visit my family. Since we didn’t visit America often, Sanae was eleven by that time and our son Takuya was eight. They found that they could understand what was said to them, but they could not answer, which frustrated them. Then their interest in English increased. What was it like navigating the cultural differences in marriage? There were differences, like any couple has. It’s that way even if you marry someone from the same town. Sometimes we had disagreements because my husband felt that something should be done one way and I was not used to doing it that way. Perhaps it was a little more difficult raising the children at first, because his father had been very strict. One time I was away on a Church visit and came back to find Sanae had spilled something on the floor. Katsuya got mad and slapped her, and we had to talk about that. I said, “In the Church we don’t do that. There are better ways.” There was never any problem after that. The kids always felt that their dad was strict, but he was also their spiritual guide. Were your children treated any differently because their mother was American? They had some struggles. The slang term for “foreigner” is gaijin. Sanae started first grade in Hokkaido and by then we had been living there for a while so most people were used to seeing us. But occasionally as we walked along the street and some kids would say to us, “Gaijin, gaijin!” To have fun, we’d look around and say, “Oh, where are they?” I always tried to be active in PTA, because I figured if I came to meetings and so on, then the other kids would accept the fact that I was just like the other mothers. I had a funny experience when a mother came up to me and said excitedly, “I’ve been so anxious to meet you. You’re the first foreigner I’ve seen in person!” And this conversation was happening in Japanese. The woman and I later became very good friends. Janet Hansen Hirano and Her Husband It was harder when we moved down to Osaka. The day we enrolled our kids in school, the other children gathered around Takuya because here was somebody strange. He endured some other teasing and never cried outside the house, but a few times he came home from school and burst out crying. If the kids had been picked on, I’d ask if they wanted me to talk to their teacher. They always wanted to handle it themselves, and they did. Even though my children were part Japanese, some still saw them as foreigners. The teachers worried at first when we took the children to school, but then they found out the children spoke Japanese just like anybody else, the teachers were fine. Were there any values or traits you felt it important to instill in your children? As with most parents, I wanted them to be strong, because they needed to be. I also wanted them to be independent, to think for themselves, and to have faith in the gospel teachings. Not just to attend church, but to be active. When we moved to Kamagaya (just outside Tokyo), there was only a branch. Sanae was the only young woman and they had to call a leader for her. So for a long time, it was just one on one. Now some girls don’t want to go to church because they don’t have a friend. I didn’t want my kids to be like that. They went to church because that was the place that Heavenly Father wanted them to be. When Takuya was in junior high school he said, “Maybe I’ll be inactive.” But he never did it. Another time Sanae told me she was sick, so she stayed home while we went to church. She said afterwards that she wasn’t sick; she just didn’t feel like going to church. But she got so lonesome being home all by herself that that was the end of that. When Takuya was in high school, some of the kids would go and have drinking parties after school. He never went, he always came home. I asked him once, “Didn’t you ever get rebellious or feel rebellious about anything?” I really appreciated it when he said, “I didn’t want to cause you any pain.” If you had to describe yourself, do you see yourself as more Japanese or more American? You don’t live for 50 years in a country without changing somewhat. People sometimes tell me that I’m more Japanese than the Japanese. We have a couple in the ward that we’ve known for a long time. The wife told me one day they were talking about Sister Hirano and how she’s come from America, and one of the kids said, “Oh, isn’t she Japanese?” I thought that was funny. I’ve taken on some Japanese characteristics. Like food, that’s to be expected. We’ve always eaten mostly Japanese, with rice and miso soup, and everything. Although I still don’t care for raw fish. Maybe I think about things more like the Japanese do. I’m more conservative, perhaps, and more accepting of things as they are, without trying so hard to change things. I’ve never really thought too much about it that way. I’m quite Japanese, but I have an American core. Whenever there are any big sports events between America and Japan, like baseball or soccer, I secretly hope that America wins. But if Japan’s playing anybody else, of course I cheer for Japan. As far as living conditions, when we lived in Hokkaido and Osaka we rented apartments with the ordinary Japanese kitchen and all that. But since we built our own home in Kamagaya, Japanese people who come in say, “Oh, this feels like America.” I don’t really know why. We have a Japanese room with a tatami mat floor, and we always slept on futons before, but we have a bed now. Tell us about your experiences serving in the Church in Japan. When I first came to Japan, the Church organizational structure was not very strong. There were some good leaders, but the membership was small and the programs did not run as smoothly as they might have. They didn’t have activities and things. They were doing their best, but it was still a growth process. It was a big responsibility to get a calling in the Church then. We’ve never been in an expatriate ward, always Japanese wards. Since my Japanese was not really adequate initially, when I had to give talks, I would prepare my talk in English, Katsuya would translate it, and I would try my best to give it without reading it. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed to do that. Before we were married, I was the music director in the local MIA, and then after Sanae was born, Katsuya worked for Japan Tupperware and he was transferred to Hokkaido, which is a northern island. I did not know a lot of Japanese, and it was kind of hard. We had been there for some months and the branch president asked me to be the Relief Society president. I said, “Do you know what you’re doing?” So I was the Relief Society president there, and later I was the mission Relief Society president. When we were transferred to Osaka, which is pretty far south, Katsuya became the bishop. I was a Primary teacher, and then in the Relief Society presidency. Now I teach Relief Society and am a ward sacrament meeting chorister. I’ve done all this, but it’s still hard for me, in a way. It used to be easier because I didn’t think so much about it. I just did it. I guess we could consider ourselves pioneers. When we were married, I believe we were perhaps the first international, interracial couple in the Church in Japan, so maybe people expected a lot of us. We have lived all over the country and are now temple workers. We go every Wednesday and people say, “Hello Sister Hirano, how are you?” I have to stop and ask myself where I knew them. They all know me because I’m different. Janet Hansen Hirano and Her Husband How has the Church evolved during your years in Japan? When I first got there, there were two missions in Asia. Asia North included Japan, Korea, and Taiwan. Asia South was China, the Philippines, and so on. There were only branches and missionaries covered the whole mission. A missionary might be up in Hokkaido and then be transferred clear down to the other end of the country, so missionary work was more difficult. But gradually the leadership got stronger and there were more visits from general authorities. Pres. Hinckley came a few times, since that was his area of stewardship. The truly converted members were very devoted to following the leadership of the Church and trying to obey the commandments. That’s still the same. Of course we still have problems, and part of that is the change in Japanese society because it’s gotten loose morally, a lot like America has. But I’ve seen that the Church has grown, gotten stronger, stronger, stronger. We have many stakes and wards now, and the missionaries are more localized. Many of the strongest leaders of the Church now were introduced to the Church as young people by missionaries who taught English classes. How is the Church viewed now in Japan versus when you first arrived? About ten to fifteen years ago there was a cult in Japan that planted poison gas in the subways in Tokyo, and the missionaries had a hard time right after that. The Catholic Church has been in Japan for a long time, but if you’re not Buddhist or Shinto, then you’re kind of grouped in with everything else. We don’t have a lot of convert baptisms now and I think partly it’s because Japanese society is affluent. When people were poorer, maybe they were more humble and more interested in finding something. It’s harder for the missionaries to contact now. Young people have cell phones and kids have almost anything they want. It’s very rare to find anyone who has more than one or two children, so parents focus all their energy on one child. The Church is strong and it’s growing, but a couple of years ago, they cut out two missions so there are not as many missions in Japan as before. Neither of your children lives in Japan anymore. How do you maintain relationships with your family, being so far away? When it was time for our children to attend university, we gave them the choice to go in Japan or America. Sanae was happy to go to America because her high school in Japan was very strict. They wore uniforms, had to have their skirts a certain number of inches below their knee, and could not dye their hair. She said once that she felt that she couldn’t be herself. Both my children served missions in Japan. Takuya went to university in Utah and worked in California for a little while, but his job took him back to Japan almost immediately. He’s more Japanese than Sanae because his life in America was much shorter than hers. She married and has raised her family there. When my daughter comes to visit she does well, but in a sense, she has become American. My son lived in Japan until last summer, when his family moved to Germany. When telephoning was expensive and not so common, we used to send faxes. Now we send emails back and forth. That was another one of my principles: I wanted the children to feel free to communicate with me. So we’ve always talked a lot. About six or seven years ago, my twin granddaughters (now 17) used to write little letters, and then started sending email once in a while. One of them asked if I would please keep her emails because they were going to be her journal. I now have a whole file full, one almost every week. My older granddaughter’s not that way. If we send an email, she might send a reply that’s two lines. But that’s okay, because everybody’s different. And of course the youngest ones send a message once in a while. Before Takuya’s family left Japan, he lived about 30 minutes away by car. We were all busy, so we couldn’t visit them often, but we tried to get together at least twice a month. When they went to Germany, I asked their oldest girl if she would please start sending emails to Grandma and Grandpa. Do you foresee moving to America at any point? I’ve been in Japan a long time and if I get to visit my sisters and my children, then I can handle it. We get to come back once every year-and-a-half to two years. My two sisters are in Utah and my brother is in Anchorage, Alaska. Sometimes we discuss whether we should buy a condo near my daughter, but my husband’s not ready to do that. We’re the oldest couple in our ward, but they still depend on us. I think he’s concerned that if he came and lived in America he would not be needed. What do you hope your grandchildren learn from you? I would hope they learn commitment. To think about a decision, pray about it, decide, and stay with it. And to stay with the gospel. Because I have a testimony, I have never thought of not going to church, or not studying the gospel. A testimony is everything in life. At A Glance Name: Janet Hansen Hirano Location: Kamagaya City, Chiba Prefecture, Japan (50 miles from Tokyo) Age: 82 Marital status: Married, two children Occupation: English language teacher, Homemaker, Temple Worker Schools Attended: University of Utah (2 yrs), Brigham Young University (2 years). BA in Education Languages Spoken at Home: English and Japanese Favorite Hymn: “More Holiness Give Me” Interview by Nollie Haws.

Judy Dushku has built a life and career that suits her unique identity, although some may perceive contradictions in the multiple facets of her life: she was a single mother of four children who managed to introduce her children to world travel and people of many cultures; she is a stake Relief Society president whose husband is not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; she is an accomplished academic and the founder of a nonprofit in Uganda that works with survivors of war. She describes how her life has evolved, the choices that have shaped her path, and the importance of sisterhood along the way. You are fearless in your approach to life—not afraid of meeting new people or being in new places. How did you cultivate that attitude? My childhood has a lot to do with it. I was born right outside of Rexburg, Idaho to parents who wanted more than anything to get out of farming—and it was during the Depression—and leave the rural life. So my father joined the Navy and we spent years traveling all over the United States; we moved to a different part of the country about every two years. My parents were so happy with that arrangement, and I suppose I just internalized that. Every few years they said, “Where do we get to go next? Wherever it is, we’re going to meet great and interesting people, and we’ll find the Church and be helpful and serve.” As a result, my growing up years were all about going someplace new, meeting new people, and finding a place to serve in the Church—whether on a welfare farm or building a chapel. My parents encouraged me to innovate within the Church. I am told that one day in a rented space where our small branch was meeting and many children were crying, I just stood up and offered to take care of the kids during Sunday School class and started a “primary.” It was always considered an adventure; it was never a chore or a burden or frightening. My parents perpetuated the attitude that we’d go where God wanted us—like the line in the hymn “Come, Come Ye Saints” that says “We’ll find a place which God for us prepared; where none shall come to hurt or make afraid” and then “all will be well.” I think that’s where I developed the attitude that there’s no place in the world that I’m afraid to go. That had a huge impact on me; I’m really fearless. Also, although my parents weren’t political at all, they were appalled by the racism we saw when we lived in the South, and they took on the role of being bridge-builders. Wherever we were, they brought people together by having them over for dinner. It was part of our family routine to create an atmosphere in which people from different backgrounds would feel like they belonged. That was key in molding my sense of self: anyone is my friend, regardless of who they are. I have no trouble loving people from any culture, and if other people have trouble with it, I’ll help them get over it. Judy Dushku You’re also unafraid to question and grapple with inconsistencies, such as in politics or the Church. How have you found your place in those realms? After attending high school in Michigan, I went to BYU, which was not a great fit. It seemed like everyone was from California or Utah and I felt like an outsider. I was excited to move to Boston for graduate school, and I was delighted by the diversity there and the Cambridge University Ward. I studied at The Fletcher School [at Tufts University] and planned to work for the State Department, but then the Vietnam War came along and blew my world apart. It raised a million issues, especially with my father being a military man. I didn’t know who to trust or what information was truth versus lies. I was going to get a PhD, but I instead decided to take a year off and I never went back. I think that was a turning point; I became much more of a questioner and became parts of groups that opposed the war. After that, Johnson’s Great Society shaped me, too. The women’s movement—around the time of the Equal Rights Amendment—became important in my life also. All these issues were on our minds around the question “What’s our place?” At that point [in 1974], a group of us—Mormon women in Cambridge—decided to start Exponent II, a revival of the Woman’s Exponent newspaper published by early members of the Relief Society [from 1872-1914]. That has played a big role in me feeling like the Church was always mine, because if something offended me at church, I could call up those women and talk it through. I still stay in touch with them. At about the same time, a very enlightened Institute Director also asked us to do a series of classes on the roles of women in the Church. That legitimized our more private dialogues and brought many more men and women into the discussion. Can you say more about how Exponent II evolved and the role of those women in your life? The women in Exponent II became like sisters. Without computers and email, we wrote and pasted up our newspaper on light boards, so we spent hours together going over articles that women had submitted about many topics. We knew each other so well, and if we had different views, we talked them through. Looking back, there could not have been a better and safer place to tangle with tough questions. We talked about changing the design of garments, why women don’t have formal Priesthood, and why the Church came in against the ERA when we had all voted for it in Massachusetts years before. We talked a lot about abortion rights since some older women had been counseled to terminate pregnancies in their early lives in Utah if they had measles or some other condition that might harm the baby. We talked about interracial marriage and how and when to limit family size. We covered so many troubling issues. Some women started coming to meet with us who had decided to leave the Church; they would say, “I have left the Church but I miss it. Can I become a member of Exponent II since there I can believe those things that seem true to me, but not feel forced to accept the teachings that go against my sense of what is ethical?” We always said there were no temple-recommend-type interviews for coming into Exponent II. There, we were all sisters and women. Exponent meetings were like Relief Society meetings, but with no fear of judgment or with no fear that someone would suggest that a comment was not in-line with LDS doctrine. One could hardly ask for a more perfect setting: love, openness, a spirit of wanting to be like the Savior, a shared heritage, and no judgment. Some meetings at my house lasted until morning. Since I had to work, I would say goodnight at 11:00 p.m., knowing the Exponent II sisters would not leave until maybe 4:00 a.m. How have you fostered in your own children the openness to the world that your parents fostered in you? When I left my graduate work, I got what I thought would be a temporary job at Suffolk University. It was a wonderful place with so much diversity: first-generation immigrants from Italy, Ireland, and Greece. That type of diversity was new to me. I married shortly thereafter and the staff at Suffolk was very supportive of my having children, even though the laws weren’t. They celebrated those births and didn’t treat them like they were hurting my career. My marriage was a bad marriage, and I was divorced when I was pregnant with my fourth child. I didn’t have a lot of child support and I had these four little kids and I worried that I wouldn’t be able to provide my children with the same sort of exciting life that I had experienced—with so much travel and exposure to the world. My solution was that I decided to always have international students living in our house. We had 27 students over a span of about the same number of years: Bosnians, Zimbabweans, Chinese, Malians, and so on. Everybody lived here! They were mostly students who were attending Suffolk University. Everyone who lived here became like a family member. We didn’t have a separate apartment, so we were all sharing meals and space. I really just wanted my children to know people from everywhere. Also, because I didn’t have a PhD and I needed to qualify for tenure, I ended up doing a lot of administrative things related to advising foreign students and managing student affairs. I also took students to about 24 different countries on study trips, so I was always traveling. Sometimes I could take my own children, too, and they traveled a lot—to places like Kazakhstan, Ukraine, Nicaragua, and more. I used to laugh, because my kids would say, “Mom, people think we’re rich because we’re always traveling.” And I’d think, “If they only knew! We have no money!” As a consequence, my children are extremely international; they have never wondered where any place was located. All my kids seem very comfortable with people from anywhere. We’ve also been able to go visit many of the students who lived with us in their own countries, and it has been fabulous to see them in their lives there. You’re very active in the LDS Church, but your husband isn’t a member. How does that work? I remarried in 1991 and it has been a fabulous marriage. My current and forever husband has joined the ward but not the Church, so he attends the ward. It has been very liberating to have a husband who does not have faith crises! He accepts it as this quirky side of our lives and he’s very supportive. I admit that I sometimes get emotional in the temple and shed a few tears, but then I remember what I’ve told other woman in my situation: “If you live righteously, the Lord will figure it all out somehow, sometime.” I try to give that same comforting promise back to myself. It works. Judy Dushku In the last few years, you have undertaken a new project: founding a nonprofit in Uganda. How did that come about? In 2001, Suffolk asked me to be the dean of their satellite campus in Senegal and they hired my husband, Jim, to be the operations officer there. The campus had about 125 students from all over Africa—from over 20 different countries. I loved it. I still keep in touch with several of them and occasionally someone will drop in from Zambia or Kenya or wherever. One thing that happened in Senegal was that I had students from Sierra Leone and Liberia. Those countries were going through terrible wars—child soldiers, massacres, horrible atrocities—and these students were refugees who had come to Senegal. Seeing this, Jim and I decided that after we returned to the United States, we wanted to do NGO work with women who had come out of conflict situations. When we returned to the United States, we tried to come up with a plan. It wasn’t until 2009 when I took some students to Uganda that I met people who worked with former child soldiers and with women who had been abducted, taken into the bush, raped and had babies. It’s so awful that I can hardly believe it. I just loved them. I felt like it was my work—my calling. I went to the mission president there and he gave me a blessing that told me this was work I needed to do, which confirmed what I already felt. I usually feel confirmation of things after I’ve leapt into something. I was already the stake Relief Society president in Boston at the time, and I talked to the stake president about starting this work in Uganda, along with everything else I was doing. He said that if I thought I could do all of it, I should go ahead. So I started this NGO called THRACE (Trauma Healing and Reflection Center) in Gulu. My husband is part of it and my daughter raised $30,000 to purchase land. To have my only daughter tremendously involved has been a real gift. THRACE is about healing people from trauma by building their confidence and helping them to find ways to support themselves. We have them teach others; it’s not just Americans going over and teaching everything. Gulu is a really beaten up place—it’s way up by the Sudanese border and has been a war zone for years—but I feel so comfortable there. So many women were in the bush during their teenage and young adult years and their schooling ended at fifth grade. They came back traumatized, with no education and with multiple kids. They’re amazing: they love their children and are resilient, hard working, and excited about living. Some of them are married, but many of them have formed families with other women who have children and whose families were killed in the war. They have huts near each other and share child raising. One of our first projects was building a bakery. We’re doing computer literacy and adult literacy. We also have women’s empowerment projects and volunteers from other countries [mostly the United States at this point] travel to Gulu and build something or do something that contributes to the women’s empowerment programs. The Church has provided some products—via the Humanitarian Department—to use in our Empowerment programs. I also work most closely with the branch president in Gulu, but it’s not a Mormon organization. It’s only two years old, but we’re buying land and building a center. We’ve already built huts for vulnerable widows in one part of Gulu. We’re going strong. It’s very hard work; I’ve never done something so hard in my life, except maybe being a parent. I absolutely love it. When I’m in Gulu and I’m sitting there in that little branch, I think, “The Lord wants me here.” Judy Dushku There is a theme in your life of working with women. How do you think your work in Uganda carries on that theme of sisterhood? Once after a talk I had given about how much I loved working with women, a close friend observed: Judy, you are clearly heterosexual, but definitely homosocial. I suspect that is not an original idea, but I loved it then because it is true; I am drawn to working with women. In my university course, I feel no less enthusiastic about encouraging male students and I teach to them as much as I teach to the women students. And in my friendships, I have many male friends. But my comfort level soars when I get involved with any activity where I am working shoulder to shoulder with women. If think women carry many burdens—whether they are women of privilege or impoverished. I feel I understand the hidden and the obvious challenges of most women, and I feel drawn to listen and hear what they say, and offer any encouraging feedback that I can. I don’t usually offer solutions or say things like, “I know exactly how you feel.” That is never quite true. But I can say, “Tell me more. I am hearing you and I think I can understand what you are saying and maybe we can think of ways you might do something just a bit differently and resolve the issues before you.” I find that every woman has “a story” that is in some ways unique to her. I honor that in every sister that I meet—be it in Weston, Massachusetts, USA or in Gulu, Northern Uganda. One of our projects in Uganda is helping women write their own stories, and they love the idea. It makes them feel less invisible and forgotten by the world. How wonderfully empowering that is, just like it was for the early Exponent II women in the 1970s who felt ignored and misunderstood. I remember when we picked our Exponent II motto: “Am I not a woman and a sister?” It fits anywhere in the world. At A Glance Name: Judy Dushku Location: Watertown (Boston), MA Age: 69 Marital status: Married to Jim Coleman Children: 4 – Aaron is 39; Ben is 36; Nate is 35; Eliza is 31 (I have 4 step-daughters: Lisa, Allison, Lesley, and Molly Occupation: Associate Professor of Government (Comparative Politics + Gender and Politics)Suffolk University, Boston, MA Schools Attended: BYU – graduated 1964; Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy-Masters of Law and Diplomacy- 1966 Languages Spoken at Home: English Favorite Hymn: “Redeemer of Israel” “Come, Oh Thou King of Kings” On The Web: THARCE-Gulu, Inc. Interview by Barbara Christiansen.

Born in Bolivia and raised in California, Dayan traveled the challenging road of becoming the first college graduate in her family. She knew she wanted to help young people like herself who had great potential, but often lacked the knowledge of how to go to college. Inspired by her 2007 Brigham Young University Thesis project, she founded Teens ACT, a nonprofit that helps at-risk students go to college. Will you describe your educational background growing up? Growing up, my mom taught me to love and value learning. She was always reading and taking our family to museums. I remember her taking us to an authentic Vietnamese restaurant; she wanted us to be familiar with different cultures. My mom would also introduce my sisters and me to many people in our community so that we could be more aware of others and not just be concerned about ourselves. By her example she taught us to be constantly learning. So I was always picking up a new book or researching something, even when I was young. I owe a lot to my mom for helping me be interested in education. You are the first college graduate in your family. How did you find the motivation? I just knew it was something I wanted and needed to do. I would hear my friends at school talk about college, and I knew I wanted that for my own life. And it wasn’t just taking classes and getting a degree, but also the social aspect of college life that attracted me to it. My mother’s love for learning was definitely part of my inspiration. But I feel that I am also just a naturally motivated person. I also wanted to be an example for my younger sisters. They are both currently in college and I think I was one of the reasons they were inclined to go. What is an under-resourced (or at-risk) student, and why were you interested in working with this specific population of students? An under-resourced student has poor grades and low motivation for school. Most qualify for free or reduced lunch because of their families’ socio-economic status. These kids are the first potential college students in their families. Also, many of these students are Hispanic or of a different ethnic minority. I feel that many under-resourced students don’t know the options and opportunities available to help them. I myself didn’t know a lot about the U.S. education system, like I didn’t know what an AP (Advanced Placement) test was. I didn’t understand what I needed to do to go to college, as far as money for tuition and applications and that kind of thing. It was only after hours of research and studying on my part that I ended up at BYU. So I wanted to help students who were in the same situation, students who could go to college and make a better life for themselves but needed a little help. You say you researched for hours. Explain that to me. What was the most important tool you used to help you on your journey? The Internet. I’m very grateful it. It was just getting big when I was in high school. I think if I had been born 10 years earlier when the Internet wasn’t really around, I wouldn’t have made it to college. I am grateful for technology and the great things it enables us to accomplish. I was just on a bunch of different college and university websites comparing tuition and requirements and things like that. I also was on the ACT official website to see test-taking strategies and tips. And of course I used the Internet to apply to schools and for scholarships. Tell me more about the history of Teens ACT. When I was an undergraduate at BYU, I was in the Honors Program and needed to do an Honors Thesis. I knew that I didn’t want to just write a paper, but that I wanted to do something to actually make a difference. Through working with counselors at Provo High School, I was able to recruit a group of under-resourced students and teach a course about the ACT (a standardized exam required for many American colleges) and College Preparation. Many of my students were on their way to dropping out of high school, but became motivated and changed so that they not only graduated, but also went on to college. Since that time, I have gained support and funding, and we founded Teens ACT as an official nonprofit. Today, the mission of Teens ACT is to increase the high school graduation rate by empowering under-resourced students to obtain a post-secondary education, thus achieving their greatest potential. Dayan Bernal (far left) with Several of Her Past Students, Wearing the Sweatshirts of Their Colleges Will you explain a little bit more about this “drop-out crisis” in our high schools today and how Teens ACT is responding to that? The drop-out crisis is a huge problem in America. Three in every 10 students drop out of high school. They are obviously more likely to be unemployed, but also are more likely to be involved in drug use and other crimes. A student who drops out of high school perpetuates the cycle of poverty. But the crisis doesn’t just affect dropouts; it really affects all of us. Our taxes pay for things like welfare, and school districts lose funding for every dropout. So the drop-out crisis hurts everyone. Teens ACT is trying to lower the drop-out rate by giving at-risk students a vision beyond high school. We offer 3 different courses in our program. First is our College Preparation course. We help students understand how college can help them reach their dreams and have a better life. We have guest speakers and college tours to help them get excited and motivated. Later on in the course, we help students with college and scholarship applications, as well as career exploration. The second course of our program is ACT Prep. Our teachers use innovative techniques and the official test prep guide put out by the makers of the ACT to teach our students math, science, English, and reading comprehension. Finally, we offer a course for the parents of our students. We equip them with the knowledge, skills, and vision to help them establish a home where education and academics are valued and promoted. We have so many people helping us. It’s just such a blessing. Being here in Provo, we have access to many BYU faculty and professionals who help us recruit and fundraise, or who are Teens ACT Board members. And there are BYU students who are mentors or teachers to our students. I’m so grateful for all the feedback and advice and resources we have here in Utah. And as we expand and grow and develop more, more people are willing to donate financially to Teens ACT as well. There have been so many people who have been willing to help and support a greater cause. I needed advice about starting and running a nonprofit. And I’ve had the opportunity to speak with executive directors of other organizations, profit and nonprofit, and been able to gain insight into how to better run our own organization. I also love that Teens ACT is beginning to be recognized and accepted as a viable organization. I feel like Heavenly Father is definitely opening doors for Teens ACT to continue so that we can serve more at-risk students. What have been some of the greatest joys you’ve experienced working with Teens ACT? Just seeing changes in our students has brought me great joy. For example, we had a student who was a Latter-day Saint, but when we first got him he was on his way to dropping out of high school. He had friends who weren’t good influences on him, and he didn’t seem to be living the standards in “For the Strength of Youth.” Teens ACT helped him realize his potential as a high school student, but also as a child of God. I think the Lord was helping him in all aspects of his life, including in his education. This young man not only graduated from high school, but also has completed some college and is currently serving a full time mission. It’s amazing to realize the impact that people can make in a child’s life. I loved being part of his journey. I feel like the Lord truly made me an instrument in His hands. You have a very nurturing attitude with the Teens ACT students. Do you view these students as your own in some ways? Yes. It’s very interesting because I’m not a mother; I’ve never had children. And even though I’m so young, I’ve learned so many parenting skills through working with these students. I feel the Lord has blessed me with being able to work with youth, youth who are many times difficult to work with because of their background. Many of my students have told me things that they would never tell their parents because they trust me. I’m not sure why they trust me so much, but I hope all of this learning of how to work with youth will help me be a better mother when I have teenagers. I believe that the Lord has given women special strengths and talents that allow us to be able to help other people. And I love that as women, part of our mission is not just to progress, but serve other people in a mothering role, whether or not we are actual mothers. I think we need to look at the unique gifts we’ve been given and learn how to use them to serve others, because that’s why Heavenly Father gave them to us. It’s clear that education is key to helping an at-risk student get out of poverty and go to college to have a more meaningful life. In your experience, why is having an education also important spiritually? In the Book of Mormon, Nephi says that he was “taught somewhat in all the learning of my Father.” Nephi learned the scriptures, languages, the Law of Moses, and many other important skills that were important in the time. Learning is important to God. God is a being of knowledge. He wants us to have knowledge in this world. And I don’t just mean technical knowledge or education, but also a spiritual education. Knowledge is important because knowledge gives us power leading to progression. And when you stop learning, you stop progressing. That is why we are counseled to read our scriptures everyday: because we are continuously learning and receiving revelation. I know that I am continuously learning secularly as well: I keep researching and studying more about education and nonprofit work and other areas of interest. Sometimes it seems like people who are formally educated become prideful. What would you say to that? I would definitely agree. The Book of Mormon talks about that too. I would respond by saying that for one thing, my undergraduate degree is so small compared to some people and the years they have spent earning advanced degrees. So there’s no reason to brag because there will always be someone smarter than you or who has more doctorate degrees than you do. But the point of education is not to glory in oneself, it’s instead to use it to bless the lives of others. Plus, there are many successful people who haven’t gone to college but have still done great things with their life and contributed to their community. So it’s a huge mistake to think you are better than someone because you have a college education. But college is still important because it can open so many doors, especially for an at-risk student. A college degree can help you make better decisions in your life. How has your education enriched your life personally? If I hadn’t gone to college, I don’t think I would have been able to serve my community and make a difference, the way I have done. But because of my education, I can contribute and add my little grain of sand. I’ve been able to meet a lot of friends and people who’ve helped me professionally who I wouldn’t have met otherwise. Seeing the ways that having an education has blessed my life has made me want more people to go to college, which is of course the main reason for Teens ACT. It’s similar to the gospel; it has made my life so much better that I want others to enjoy it like I do and share the gospel. That’s how I feel about college. Speaking of the gospel, I understand that other than helping at-risk youth, missionary work is also very important to you. Yes! Missionary work is another strong passion of mine. I’m a convert to the church. My family joined when I was 10 after we had moved to California. The missionaries found us through a member referral. That is one reason I feel so strongly that sharing the gospel is everyone’s responsibility, not just the missionaries’. I served a full time mission in Chicago, but I still feel like a missionary because I still am one! It wasn’t just a year and a half of my life; it’s a continuous thing. And I am continuously seeking missionary opportunities. About every week I’m trying to talk to someone about the gospel that doesn’t know about it or understand yet. I try to find people who either want to listen or people who have not yet been invited to the church, or are less active, people who are not enjoying all the blessings of the gospel. Through your work, you’ve met and associated with many different professionals in and out of Utah. Have you had the experience of sharing the gospel with any of them? I’ve met a lot of people who work in different fields: not just education, but also business and law (dealing with the non-profit aspect of Teens ACT). And we’ve been able to talk about our spiritual beliefs. But even if they aren’t members of the church, we’re still able to relate to each other because these individuals are able to express their thoughts about and gratitude towards God. When we have our conversations, we talk about how grateful we are for Heavenly Father’s help in our lives and our professions.I feel that missionary work is one of the reasons why the Lord wants this organization to succeed. Because great missionary opportunities in and out of the church will come about because of Teens ACT—they already have, and for that I am so grateful. You have so many projects and jobs going on with Teens ACT and with your other jobs. You often are speaking at conferences and networking. How do you keep it all together? My faith is what keeps me going. I know that Jesus Christ lives and that he helps me accomplish all of my daily tasks. It is because of Him that I have been able to accomplish little by little my dreams and goals. I know that if my foundation is in Christ everything will be okay, no matter what happens. To build my foundation I make sure I do the simple, basic things first and foremost. I believe in gaining revelation and guidance through prayer. There have been many times when I didn’t know what to do about something, but then I was able to gain clarity and answers because I prayed earnestly and studied the scriptures daily. The temple has always given me great strength to do what is right and to trust in the Lord with all my heart, mind, and strength. Using the atonement in my daily life, partaking of the sacrament and renewing my covenants, and doing the best I can in fulfilling my callings allows me to be ever so grateful for this mortality and gives me greater joy. I try to put the Lord first in everything I do, and I know that He blesses me for that. At A Glance Name: Dayan Bernal Location: Provo, UT Age: 26 Marital status: Single Occupation: Founder and Executive Director of Teens ACT, also works with Education:Catch the Dream Schools Attended: Brigham Young University (BA in Latin American Studies, Minor in Philosophy) Languages Spoken at Home: Spanish, English Favorite Hymn: “Because I Have Been Given Much” On The Web: www.teens-act.org Interview by Katherine Wilkinson.

Families with trans-racial adopted children are becoming more common, both within the LDS community and without. But what is it like to grow up as that child in a family that doesn’t look like you? This anonymous perspective, from an Asian woman adopted into a white family as a baby, shares the pain and joy of being adopted into a trans-racial family. You were adopted as an infant. At what point did you realize your family was a little different than others? I was adopted by my family before I was one year old. Shortly after birth in my home country, I was abandoned on a doorstep. I came to the US on a plane with several other adoptees, and my mother was waiting at the airport for me. My mother says I realized from an early age that I looked different; I was surrounded by white people, but I still knew I was different. One day, when I was young, I found a picture of an Asian baby in a magazine and carried that picture around with me for weeks. My siblings say they didn’t notice anything different, and just accepted me as part of the family. But, there were moments when we were younger when they were embarrassed about being different from other families or didn’t know how to handle inappropriate questions or comments. People at church – a place where you should feel safe and accepted – would make comments that hurt, like my skin was darker because I was cursed. I felt alienated and hurt. I couldn’t express much of what I was feeling because there was such an outpouring of optimism and expectations of gratitude, like “You’re so lucky to be saved from a bad life in that other country.” It felt wrong to tell people I wished I had another identity. I spent so much time wishing I were white or fit in better with my family, which isn’t something that’s healthy for children. My parents are both white and had grown up in white communities so they didn’t realize things were that different for me. I grew up during a time when people didn’t know that trans-racially adopted children struggled to reconcile competing visions of how they fit in the world and their families. Adoptee families will often say things like, “Race doesn’t matter, we love you no matter what you look like, and we’re all the same on the inside.” There was little dialogue about the need to prepare children for the fact that people, even well intentioned people, frequently comment on trans-racial adoptive families in insensitive and sometimes inappropriate ways. How did you come to terms with your adoption? I had so much anger and hurt built up inside of me about abandonment and the isolation I felt. My family lived in an area that was similar to the ones they grew up in, so there were virtually no other racial groups. Additionally, I didn’t feel like a “real” Asian or Asian-American because my parents weren’t Asian. I had no idea where I fit because I was constantly reminded that I wasn’t white. Because I had no way to understand or articulate the pain I was in for so long, I started making really destructive choices. After college, I had a crisis point where everything became too much and I thought it would be better not to be alive than continue on. At that point, I started learning that my parents loved me and weren’t going to send me back, and that they never thought of me as second best or a substitute for a biological child. I started going to counseling, and my parents went too. Without their unfailing support, especially my mother’s, I doubt I would have made it. We had to work through what it means to be a minority family and learn how to talk about race. We also had to work through abandonment issues just like other families who adopt, regardless of race. Developing my faith and a relationship with God helped me heal. The Atonement came into play for me when I realized that I could be healed from all the anger, isolation, and bitterness I had. I’m friends with a lot of adopted people who carry so much bitterness and hurt with them from their upbringing – they’ve cut off contact with their adoptive families, even moved to other countries, trying to get away from the hurt. But I’m lucky; I haven’t had to do that. How can trans-racial families help bridge the gap and help their adopted children to feel part of the family? Some say all you need is love to raise a child. Others rely on resources like culture camps and so forth. It’s not so much about keeping or adopting cultural practices as the cure-all, but more about helping children feel accepted and part of a community. Some families find groups of other adoptive children and spend time with trans-racial families. This lets their children know that they can be part of another culture and part of the family at the same time. It’s important for many families to have a support network so that children don’t feel like they stand out and stand alone. How has your background affected your parenting style? Becoming a mother changed me. I was a little nervous to have children, because of my history. I want to believe that my birth parents decided to place me for adoption out of necessity and not because they didn’t want me. Once I had children, I realized that it didn’t matter why my birth parents placed me; my adoptive parents chose to raise me and they taught me how to love my own children. Once I had children I stopped worrying that there was some flaw in me handed down from my birth parents. Having children and creating my own family unit healed me of a lot of the hurt I’d harbored my whole life. Race is a big, conscious focus in our family. My husband and I are a trans-racial couple and our kids definitely look like me. When he is out with the children, people assume they are adopted or that he isn’t related by blood to them. People ask questions like, “What are they?” The kids notice difference in race, in our family, and in our community, but we try to explain that being different isn’t bad – it’s just different. We’ve lived in very diverse cities, and in places that are predominantly white; no matter where we go, race comes up. We just work through it a day at a time. It’s heartbreaking having to explain to my children why another child makes faces or teases them about the way they look. At the same time, I’m grateful that I have the Gospel and my own parents’ example so I can teach my children about Christ-like compassion for others. Interview produced by Lyndsey Payzant Wells.

Jana Riess was baptized in her final year of study at Princeton Theological Seminary. Her career plan to be a Protestant pastor derailed by her conversion, she now is an editor for a religious publishing house, teaches college, and writes about religion. Her most recent book, Flunking Sainthood, is a memoir about a year’s journey through spiritual practices. Tell me about your religious background. I was raised in western Illinois, not far from Nauvoo. My mother was agnostic. My father was an atheist, so I grew up with no religious background. I was not taught to believe, but I can’t remember a time when I didn’t believe in and communicate with God. My first exposure to Mormonism and Mormon history was when I was eleven. I took a summer class called “Nauvoo and the Mormons.” I took it because it had a field trip and I really liked going anywhere. At the end of this two week course, we all went to Nauvoo for a day. My chief memory of Nauvoo, other than vomiting on the merry-go-round at the park, was a room called the Women’s Room. It had handicrafts and quilts and there was an enormous photograph of Marie Osmond and her mother on the wall. I went back to Nauvoo a few years later, and Marie was gone. The whole thing had been removed from the Women’s Room, apparently because Marie had gotten divorced and was no longer a moral exemplar. Both of those things made an impression on me: the fact that it was there in the first place and the fact that it disappeared when her life ceased to be the cultural ideal. Jana Riess and Her Husband I was a junior at Wellesley, a religion major, when I began reading more seriously about Mormonism. The next year I chose to do my senior honors thesis on Mormonism and American politics. I also had a couple of Mormon friends, and one of them in particular made a huge impression on me. It was through her example that I began to see that there were many different kinds of Latter-day Saints who were faithful and orthodox, yet very engaged with the world. This is where the story gets hard to relate. It’s always difficult, I think, to relay ineffable experiences to other people. After college, I went to spend the summer of 1991 in Vermont with some friends, and while I was there I spent a day at the Joseph Smith Memorial in Sharon. A missionary there challenged me to read the Book of Mormon. I accepted the challenge and started reading the Book of Mormon. For the rest of the summer I met regularly with two sister missionaries about my age. It was through reading the Book of Mormon that I began to think about Mormonism seriously as a choice for me, not simply as something to study or to observe as a curiosity but as something that might have a claim on my life. The problem was that I was heading off to Princeton Theological Seminary. I had already set upon the career path of being a Protestant minister, and I was also engaged to marry a Protestant man. Choosing to change religions in such a drastic manner had far-reaching implications that I was not ready to embrace at that time. I put Mormonism on the back-burner, but I found I kept returning to it. I’d find excuses to write papers about it. I spent a lot of free time reading about it. I read a lot of Dialogue [a Mormon academic journal], which they had in the stacks at the university library. It was hard for me to admit this was not just an academic interest but also an intensely personal one. It took me until the winter of 1993 to decide that this was something I wanted to do more personally. I wrote a letter to a different friend of mine who had been at Wellesley with me. She had left on a mission after college. I had not kept in touch, but I had a vague idea she might be returning from her mission around that period. So I wrote and explained that I was interested in Mormonism but that I didn’t want to sit down with a stranger, which is basically what a missionary is. I wanted to sit with a friend who would understand that this might lead absolutely nowhere but that I wanted to talk about it openly. She got my letter the day after she returned from her mission. The timing was quite extraordinary. At the end of her mission she felt she had not completed what she wanted to do and so she had prayed to God that there would be opportunities for her to do missionary work wherever she was going next. For her this letter seemed a remarkable answer to prayer. Her parents lived in New Jersey about an hour from where I was living. We started meeting regularly. I started reading the Book of Mormon and trying to imagine my life as a Latter-day Saint, which was a huge shift in thinking. You were still in seminary? Yes! Awkward, huh? I was quite secretive about it. I hadn’t at this point made a decision, but about March I started living the Word of Wisdom. I thought that if I wanted to be baptized I needed to know I could live these standards before I made the commitment of baptism. I kept the Word of Wisdom for about six months before I got baptized. It said it was “for the weakest of all saints,” so I figured that was me! I was definitely inspired by Alma 32. That was one of the passages of the Book of Mormon that spoke to me most directly. I loved the idea of seeing how this new faith tasted. What would it be like? How would it change my life to live this way and to choose to believe? The lifestyle of Mormonism appeals to a lot of new converts, but it didn’t speak to me in the same way. And there were elements of the culture that I found truly upsetting: the racist history was very troubling for me; the fact that I was training to be a pastor and I was contemplating joining a church in which as a woman I would have no ecclesiastical authority whatsoever was hugely depressing at that time. So I had a lot of cultural issues that I needed to work out. It took quite a while and I wasn’t baptized until September of 1993. I was at the very beginning of my senior year of seminary and choosing a thesis topic. You might remember that September of 1993 was not a happy time to be a liberal feminist in the Church. I read in the New York Times about the excommunications that were going on and decided to do my thesis about these excommunications. My adviser didn’t actually realize until later that I had just been baptized as a Mormon. It was so raw. I just didn’t feel ready to share the fact of my conversion with very many people at all. I wasn’t sure how it would sound and I certainly wasn’t prepared to defend Mormonism if the environment proved to be hostile. It was difficult because I’m a fundamentally transparent person. I’m not a secret keeper. I can’t even keep my Christmas presents secret from my family, but here I was keeping this very big secret for several months about what had changed in my life. I was trying to navigate this brand-new religion that I didn’t yet understand culturally and I was trying to find a whole new career path. That was both exciting and scary. My husband, of course, knew what was happening. He tried very hard to be supportive. He was concerned because this was a major change, and he didn’t quite understand what it was about, but it wasn’t very long before he came on board completely and was supporting me in whatever I wanted to do. However, there were other people in my family and in my circle of friends–when I eventually told people–who were very upset. You settled on a career in publishing and now edit and write books about religion. You’ve just had a book come out this fall called Flunking Sainthood. It chronicles your attempt to follow a different religious practice every month. Can you tell me how you came up with the idea for the book? The original idea wasn’t mine. It came from the publisher. They wanted a way to showcase some of the spiritual classics from the past on their list that they felt were relevant to today yet largely undiscovered. So their idea was to have someone write a humorous memoir of reading twelve spiritual classics. They chose me because they knew me and thought I was funny, and because I’m not Catholic and would approach the texts with fresh eyes, as someone who doesn’t necessarily venerate the saints. But I immediately said, “Well, I don’t think it’s very interesting to just read about someone else reading. I need to be doing something to correspond with each of these readings.” So I devised a schedule of spiritual practices that would go with each month of 2009. For example, when I was reading about the Desert Fathers and Mothers, I would do some kind of rigorous ascetic practice. It wasn’t long before the practices became the focus of the book and the readings became supplemental. And then it wasn’t long before I just started failing. The book was not originally going to be about failure in any way. They wanted me to be an example! I felt like a fraud because I kept failing. In November 2009, near the end of my project, my editor asked how it was going. I said, “Very badly.” I was truly embarrassed to tell her because I felt I had not only failed at the practices but also failed at the tasks the publisher had set out for me to do. She said, very wisely, “Make the book about that, about the reality of spiritual failure and how we try and fall short.” I wish I could say that I immediately embraced the idea and felt comfortable putting all my failure out there. But it was very hard to admit how shallow I can be and how distractible I am. Now that the book is out and I’m hearing from readers, I’m realizing how universal this is. It’s not only Mormons who struggle with failure. It’s certainly not only me. I just got a tweet from a rabbi; I have heard from my many different kinds of Catholic and Protestant readers. I hadn’t quite understood how universal this feeling is that we fall short. Has the year changed the way you worship? I came to a couple of realizations in the course of writing the book. One of them is that spiritual practices generally should be undertaken with other people. My idea of sitting down and trying these things individually was ill-advised, to put it gently. “Delusional” is the way I put it in the book. Most spiritual practices originated in community. If you look at the history of fixed hour prayer or the Jesus Prayer, all of these originated in monastic communities. They can be adapted for individual use, but it’s not how they were originally intended. So if I had it all to do over again, I would certainly try spiritual practices with other people. The other thing I learned is that there are different spiritual practices for a reason. It is just not reasonable to expect that the same individual is going to resonate with contemplative prayer and active justice-making and lectio divina and fasting. That’s absurd. And yet many of us expect that we’re going to succeed equally at all of these practices. It’s just not how God designed us. There are so many different ways to worship God. I learned the hard way that I’m not so contemplative a person as I imagined I would be. For me sitting down with my own thoughts for twenty or thirty minutes was not a worshipful experience, whereas I certainly felt I was worshiping God when I practiced hospitality or generosity. Other people, however, thrive on contemplative practice and can’t survive without it. Another of your ongoing projects is to tweet the Bible. Can you tell me about that? I’ve been doing it for just over two years now. It’s a three and a half year project so I’m pretty well into it and God has not struck me down with lightning yet. (That’s not to say it may not happen next year.) The project is to tweet out a chapter of the Bible with humorous commentary every day and to do the entire Bible, skipping nothing. One of the driving reasons behind this was that I feel very fussy about the canon as a whole and why we choose to privilege some parts of the Bible and completely ignore others. I do this. We all do this. Liberals do it by putting the words of Jesus in red letters as if that’s the most important thing ever and conservatives do it by taking the Bible’s two verses about homosexuality and saying that that’s the most important thing in the Bible. All of us tend to ignore the Bible’s very difficult standards of caring for the poor. But the project is supposed to be funny. That’s its primary purpose. And trying to make it sound all hoity-toity and important is anticipating expectations that are not fair to excite. I’m on Twitter as @janariess if anyone would like to follow the project. A lot of your writing is humorous. Did you always see yourself as a humor writer? I do think that humor is an enormously helpful coping mechanism in religion and in relationships, but I never used to think of myself as very funny. A few years ago I wrote a satirical blog post and I started hearing from people, “Oh, you’re really funny!” That surprised me because in my family of origin I’m the least funny person. And my husband is one of the most hilarious people I’ve ever met. I never thought of myself as being particularly funny until well into my thirties. Humor has a wonderful way of breaking down barriers between people and among groups. As I skirt around the periphery of many different religions, I would say that humor is a good part of that. I’m happy to be friends with anyone who can laugh at themselves. Beginning seminary, you planned to devote much of your life to church work, but now your church work comes by assignment rather than as a job you choose. How has that shift felt for you? Since I joined the Church, I’ve served in leadership in every auxiliary. I’m currently Primary secretary. I love the calling system. I think it’s one of the genius elements of Mormonism. I love the concept that everyone has to do something, that people have to get their hands dirty. That’s not religious; it’s just basic organizational behavior: everyone involved in the organization is invested in the success of that organization. But the religious genius is that we are living out the theological ideal: we have of a priesthood of all believers. I was thinking about this at our ward Christmas party. After dinner, it was very chaotic, kids running around, and my husband was so tired and just wanted peace and quiet, so he took our daughter and left. Totally understandable. But at the end of the night all the rest of us were staying to sweep the floor, put away the tables, portion out the leftovers. The whole evening was planned and executed by volunteer labor. It’s amazing. The other side of it, though, is that we could be using the calling system so much better than we are by paying attention to people’s gifts more intentionally. We think about callings in terms of, what does the ward need right now? Or what does the ward need yesterday? There’s an urgency to filling a space with anyone available, and that’s not necessarily the healthiest approach in terms of recognizing people’s gifts and helping them develop their gifts. You talked about the realization you came to from working on Flunking Sainthood that religion is most satisfying when practiced with other people. Can you talk a bit about the role of community in Mormonism? In Mormonism I wish we had more of an emphasis on communal spiritual practices rather than only individual devotion. Going off into a corner to pray or praying as a family is very important, of course. But when we as Mormons go to church we’re not really there to worship. We’re there to learn. We’re expected to learn the basics in terms of information in Gospel Doctrine and then take that into our own homes. We also don’t pray as a group for each other. If someone’s having a hard time, I’ll say, “May I pray for you?” If she says yes, I pick up her hand and pray for her right there. Many Mormons find that really uncomfortable because it’s just not part of our culture. Why is it not part of our culture? We’re commanded to do that in scripture. But one of the things that Mormons do well is community. I’ve thought about why our community is, frankly, superior to a lot of religious communities I’ve observed. That sounds chauvinistic but I firmly believe that one of the strokes of genius in the organization of our church is that we have this old-fashioned community model where we attend church based on geography and no other factor. When left to their own devices, people will tend to go to church where they’re comfortable spiritually, politically, and socio-economically. But our wards are a mish-mash of people of every economic class and need, of every political extreme. You don’t find that model anywhere else in America today. It’s unique. The Catholic model used to be very similar but Catholics have now decided, at least in the United States, that they can go to church wherever they like. We don’t have that luxury in Mormonism. Where I live in Cincinnati, my ward encompasses half of the urban core and part of suburbia. So there are people who are struggling terribly with poverty and there are people who live in Indian Hill, one of the most affluent neighborhoods in the United States, all in the same religious community. You never see that kind of radical economic diversity anywhere else. And it brings a completely different dynamic to that community. When I was fairly new in the Church, I thought attending near where you lived was just something that people did. I didn’t understand that I wouldn’t be able to have a calling or a temple recommend if I didn’t attend my home ward. So when I moved from Princeton, New Jersey to a small town outside of Lexington, Kentucky, I tried to go to church in Lexington so I could be part of a university community and have more in common with those I worshiped with. But it became very clear that if I wanted to have a calling that I needed to be involved in the ward where I lived. It turned out to be one of the greatest blessings of my life. I was forced to live in that community fully, to be completely invested. I found the people that I had so wrongly judged had so much to teach me. At A Glance Name: Jana Riess Location: Cincinnati, OH Age: 42 Marital status: Married Children: One daughter Occupation: Editor and writer Convert? September 1993 Schools Attended: Wellesley College, Princeton Theological Seminary, Columbia University Languages Spoken at Home: English Favorite Hymn: “Be Thou My Vision” (not in LDS hymnal) On The Web: http://blog.beliefnet.com/flunkingsainthood/ Interview by Annette Pimentel.

Faced with her husband’s liver failure, Amy Jones turned to the resource she knew best: homeopathic medicine. As a doula and childbirth educator, she had spent many years teaching herself about the body’s many wonders, but in the time of her husband’s crisis Amy taught herself about herbs, essential oils, and, most importantly, the divine powers that come from living the Word of Wisdom to the fullest. As the founder of the LDS Holistic Living Conference, Amy helps others discover the “hidden treasures of knowledge” that come from God’s natural gifts. You’re interested in the way that the gospel plays out in our relationships to our bodies. Can you tell us how that interest developed? I grew up in a holistic household in Las Vegas. I was the youngest of six and I had an interesting glimpse into alternative medicine when some specific health issues of my mom’s weren’t responding to traditional treatments. There was a physician in our ward who was a medical doctor but he was also a homeopath. My mom began seeing him and saw improvement in her own condition. One morning when I was in fifth grade I woke up and didn’t have the use of my legs. I could stand briefly, but couldn’t hold my weight. My mom kind of tripped out a bit! So she immediately took me to this brother in our ward who had treated her and within a pretty short amount of time he diagnosed me with over 50 different allergies. The main one was mercury toxicity, which was causing muscle degeneration. I spent about a year with him getting better and taking homeopathics. Once I got my silver fillings replaced, I regained all the use of my muscles. After that experience, my mom’s trust in treating with alternative methods was very much strengthened. This was the mid 1980s and being a homeopath wasn’t exactly the most popular thing to do. Being the kid who ate rice cakes and carob brownies wasn’t the norm! I didn’t realize that what I was doing was that much out of the norm until I got pregnant with my first baby. Of course I wanted the smartest, healthiest, prettiest baby ever. And I began researching how one gets the smartest, healthiest, prettiest baby ever. There isn’t one magic pill that makes a healthy baby. It all comes down to eating and nutrition. I took childbirth classes, I read books, I had a natural birth in a hospital with a doula and it was a fantastic experience. After the birth, I kept on reading birth books. I’d had the baby, but I couldn’t get enough of learning about birth. About a year after I had my baby, I knelt down and asked the Lord, “I have all this knowledge about birth. Should I be doing anything about this?” I got a very clear answer that I needed to become a doula and childbirth educator. I had an associate degree in business but that was it, so I didn’t have professional focus or background at that point. My first step was to look for doulas and childbirth educators in town and try to apprentice with them. But this was in the early 1990s when doulas were something of a new concept. I opened the phone book to look for them in Las Vegas, but there weren’t any. They weren’t nearly as popular as they are now. So then I tried contacting midwives. Would you explain the difference between a midwife and a doula? A doula is hired by the couple to work with a medical team, and she is there to give informational, emotional, and physical support to the couple. She doesn’t do anything clinical like fetal heart checks or blood pressure monitoring. She’s not responsible for any clinical outcome; she is there purely for comfort measures and information. A doula does what mothers or grandmothers used to do in the old days before childbirth moved into hospitals and we lost that aspect of maternity care because of health care policies and modern culture. It was with great disappointment that I realized there were no doulas in Las Vegas and that I was on my own if I wanted to do this. So again I went to my knees and said, “Lord, there’s no one here. What should I do?” With His encouragement, I just started on my own. Here I was this 22-year-old girl with one child and no formal training! I started writing out a curriculum for my own childbirth education classes, and I started attending births with a local midwife. I asked midwives to refer women to my classes. Every series of classes I held, I got more and more referrals until pretty soon the class was too big to hold in my little living room. I started a childbirth education association in Las Vegas because I was getting calls from other women who wanted to become doulas or childbirth educators as well. If there were others who wanted to train or get support I wanted there to be something to support them. There are now 40 other women in Las Vegas who are part of that organization. It grew pretty rapidly. In 2005 we moved to Cedar City for my husband’s work, which we thought was going to be temporary, so I continued my practice in Las Vegas. But after a year and a half, my husband was diagnosed with liver failure. It was pretty ugly. There were a few moments when I thought, “What if he dies?” It was a point in my life in which my belief systems were put to the test. Here I had been teaching people about health and nutrition and passing on my little knowing of essential oils, and I had to ask myself if I really believed in this stuff. From the time we started dating, I knew his health wasn’t a hundred percent. Over the years, from my own reading, I had suggested my own diagnoses, but we’d never gotten a formal diagnosis. But then in January of 2007 his liver just stopped functioning. I just wanted my husband well. Amy Jones Did your husband share your same interest in holistic approaches? Yes, we had kind of gone down this journey together, although I had done most of the legwork on educating ourselves. He definitely was on the same page I was on, but when he got sick we were open to anything that helped him get better. We finally got a diagnosis from a friend of mine who was a master herbalist and gave my husband a protocol to follow. Before he did this, we prayed if this was what we were supposed to be doing and we both felt great about it. Because my husband was the breadwinner and was sick and couldn’t work, our money went out the door really quickly. Even though the herbs weren’t expensive compared to conventional treatments, it was still money we didn’t have. So I had to find ways to cut costs where I could. I learned to tincture my own herbs and come up with my own formulas. I had a few friends who helped me along the way over the phone, but it was mostly trial and error trying to make this stuff. A lot of it was inspiration: I’d kneel down and ask the Lord how to make something and with what quantities. It was very much a hands on lesson by God. Were these formulas just for your husband’s treatment, or did you make these for other people as well? I started primarily making them just for him, but I always have treated my kids herbally. So when my kids got colds or infections during this time, I couldn’t go to the health food store to buy anything so I had to figure out how to make a cold formula from the herbs I had. I learned along the way. It took my husband about a year and a half to get back to his completely functional self. He healed completely herbally. What I learned through this process is that the liver completely regenerates every seven years if cared for properly, which was a great comfort because I knew it could fix itself if I could give it the right nutrients. And that’s what it did. I had all this knowledge about herbs and essential oils and I had a testimony of their abilities, but at this point I had a strong prompting that I needed to start teaching out of my home about how to use herbs and essential oils in addition to my childbirth classes. So I figured out how I wanted to structure the classes and what I could teach and my neighbors and people in my ward started trickling in. I just put it out there and people showed up! A few months after I started doing this, I proposed to a friend that we have a class that was on a bigger scale; an all day thing. So we launched an LDS health class, and that’s when we started the LDS Living Holistic Living Conference in the summer of 2009. We thought, if we get 50 people showing up, we’ll be happy. Instead, 450 people showed up. I turned to my friend and I said, “I think we have something here.” We realized there was a strong desire among the LDS community to marry the two worlds of our faith and our health. I’m a huge believer in the Word of Wisdom. It promises you “hidden treasures” if you obey it. We know that the Word of Wisdom is far more than not drinking and not smoking. My personal testimony is that it’s futile to heal physically without the Savior’s help. I knew I wasn’t alone but I didn’t realize how much company I had. Would you talk about the connection you see between the Word of Wisdom and holistic healing? I feel that the Word of Wisdom is a living entity to me. It’s like my friend. Eating fruits and vegetables in their season, eating meat sparingly, using herbs ordained for the “use of man”…. After I started adhering to the Word of Wisdom more closely during my first pregnancy, I fell in love with the grains that aren’t used as much – millet, barley – and I started getting these really cool revelations. I’d be doing the dishes and all of a sudden answers to questions I’d had for years came to me. There is truth in the Word of Wisdom scripture that says hidden treasures of knowledge will be revealed to you. I started experiencing that and it almost became addicting. It was just one light bulb moment after another. It became clear to me that the connection between our bodies and our spirits is much more intimate than we can imagine. A lot of people looked at me and thought I was being extreme. I went off of sugars, started using wheat flour instead of white flour. But I didn’t see it as being extreme. I thought, all I’m doing is what I think the Word of Wisdom is telling me to do. My husband wasn’t as into it as I was, but he was supportive and would eat my millet taco pie even if he didn’t want to! I believe that the Word of Wisdom is not just a suggestion; it’s one of God’s greatest blessings. The revelation and insights and knowledge it gives us are not only about our health; they’re for accessing knowledge and God’s support in any part of our lives. What do you think it is about Mormonism about this point in time that is sympathetic to alternative medicines? Why did 450 people come to your conference? I really feel the gifts that God has given us, the plants He’s provided, the knowledge He’s given us over the centuries about how to treat our bodies, complement our knowledge of the gospel perfectly. He didn’t just give us plants to make the earth look pretty, He gave us plants for our use. If you look through the scriptures you’ll see reference after reference to plants being used for medicinal reasons. Just because we’re in these modern times doesn’t mean the efficacy of what He’s given us is no longer valid. He put all these resources on the earth for modern-day diseases as well. He knew our day; He knew what we’d be facing. These plants have been here for centuries and they are for use on our modern day illnesses as well as ancient illnesses. Homeopathic medicine is about the connection with nature, not forcing or manipulating the body but working with the body instead of against it. Herbs typically don’t work as fast as allopathic medicine (although I’ve seen some herbs work incredibly fast), and so there is an exercise of patience involved. With my husband’s liver failure, for instance, we had to wait six weeks with him doing his herbal therapies before we even saw a result. That was just six weeks of us praying and relying on God’s answer; I trusted this was right, but I didn’t see results for six weeks! He could have taken a pill and we would have seen results in a day, but I don’t believe it wouldn’t have been as sustainable as our method. There’s definitely massive validity to using God’s gifts for our health. Why would He put us on this earth without tools for being healthy and therefore happy? The healthier we are, the more time and energy we have for fulfilling God’s missions for us here on the earth. If we’re sick and tired all the time, that’s time we could be using to preach the gospel or parent our children or whatever mission He has for us. This interest from LDS people in alternative health is a full circle return to connecting with the tools God gave us. I feel the decades we spent away from alternative healing have been the deviation from the norm. Allopathic medicine dominating our thinking exclusively was the deviation; herbs, essential oils, those are not a trend. They have always been there, and they’re not going away. Have there been trends in the broader culture that have brought attention back to homeopathic medicine? As a broader Western culture, we have realized that traditional medicine generates lots of empty promises. There’s so much in our popular medical community that says if you take this pill you’ll get better. I’m not discounting modern medicine; it is a huge complement and I wouldn’t want to be without it. On the other hand, to have the pendulum swing so far away from using God’s bounties as well to treat major and minor illnesses, is, I feel, naïve and arrogant. There are a lot of great things that modern medicine can do for people but there are a lot of things it can’t do. I think people are finding the limitations of modern medicine. There are always risks with modern medicine, so to go to a method where there is little to zero risk of injury or death—that’s a very attractive option. God has given us remedies that, if we learn how to use them properly, can cure us without side effects. To be given a huge diagnosis like liver failure or cancer and to experiment with modern medicine, that would be scary to me. I understand that herbs and essential oils are scary too because they’re not tested, but Christ is the master healer. He’ll tell you what to do. If you’re following His path for you, He’ll take care of you. My experience is living proof that God has all the answers for our health and our happiness. At A Glance Name: Amy Jones Location: South Jordan, UT Age: 37 Marital status: Married since 1995 Children: 5 kids, ages, 15, 13, 9, 6, 3 Occupation: SAHM, co-founder/director of LDS Holistic Living, birth professional (doula and childbirth educator), health professional (SimplyHealed practitioner, alternative health instructor) Schools Attended: UVSC Languages Spoken at Home: English, babytalk Favorite Hymn: “I Need Thee Every Hour” On The Web: www.ldsholisticliving.com, www.birthologie.com

Although born and raised in Lebanon, Joumana left Beirut for Paris to complete her studies as an artist. But it was when she joined the Church, through a friend in Lebanon, that she came into her own as an artist. Today, Joumana’s stunning paintings are infused with gospel symbolism and a measure of the Spirit that makes them undeniably moving. Lire cette interview en français How were you raised? After the war in Lebanon, and after my fine arts studies in Beirut, I came to Paris to pursue my studies. I’m from a family of artists, so my first drawing was on a wooden cheese box–I was about five when I drew it–and since my father was an artist I spent hours in his studio, sometimes “borrowing” a few tools for my own art. I think it’s something I was born with because my two sisters and two brothers and I all became artists. "Consolation" Does having two cultures, French and Lebanese, influence your creative process? In Lebanon we have a very French culture: there’s always been a strong connection between France and Lebanon; we call France our “protective mother.” So moving to France didn’t change too much for me except that our culture is a bit more Mediterranean in Lebanon. We’re more like the Italians or the Greeks: we like to talk a lot, whereas the French are generally wonderful people with big hearts, but they don’t express it enough. So I struggled because as an artist you need human contact, and I had always had a warm atmosphere around me. Ever since childhood I was in an open home where people came in and out all day long: there were painters, sculptors, writers, cinematographers; it was an artistic world and that’s how I was raised. It was a very rich world–my parents hosted events and one artist would start singing, another would start dancing… it was a wonderful time of my life that I miss now. When my sister Gina and I were younger we experimented a lot and created fancy jewelry, and it was only later when I first took fine arts classes that I decided to become a painter. And at some point, because I had a famous father with a very imposing personality, I had to stop and do something else, despite my parents’ constant encouragement to keep painting, because I wanted to exist for myself. That’s actually the reason I changed my name, because every time someone met me they would say, “Oh, you’re so-and-so’s daughter” and they saw him and not me. I noticed I wasn’t the only one, either; I met plenty of people who had a famous mother or father and who needed to trace their own route. Everyone in my family carries the Nahlé name, whereas I decided to take on my husband’s name. So I spent four years at the BJO (School of Jewelry and Goldsmith’s Craft) in Paris, which allowed me to mix painting with other perspectives until the point that I learned about the Church. The day I discovered the Church is the day my art completely changed. "Le Berger" How so? Before, my work was very cubic, cerebral, and very philosophically symbolic; ever since I was five I had always drawn with china ink, black and white, and that’s it. After my baptism, the first drawing I made almost drew itself. It was just a tiny little sketch of the spirit world. There were people living in darkness in a prison somewhere, and on a high mountain you could see Joseph Smith and a few disciples. I never really attempted to draw Joseph Smith’s face, but for me that’s who it was – that’s how it came out and I felt it was him. When I paint, I don’t know what I’m painting. I do figurative abstract, which means that you can see a personage but there is a great deal of abstraction; I work mostly on the message. For me, a painting that doesn’t have a message, that doesn’t touch people, just doesn’t work. So I just let myself go on a blank canvas; I paint but don’t know exactly what I’m painting at first. It’s at the end, after having worked for a while, that I discover what it’s supposed to be. "The Tree of Knowledge" For me it’s a very spiritual process, it works with the Spirit. I pray that the Spirit will work with me so that when people look at a painting, it’s not just an aesthetic work; it’s first and foremost something that can speak to the spirit. And I was very happy when during several of my expositions people came to me to tell me how they had felt peace. So all of a sudden my painting changed from something that was tough with very harsh and very structured lines to something that had softness, unified colors, and very spiritual themes. Personally I feel like there is a lot of decadence in the art world. There’s an artistic lobby that is driven by business. We’re wrapped up in this lie that anything that is spiritual or has to do with God or the human being is out of style; it’s boring and it doesn’t “flash”–it’s not extraordinary. But I can’t just do something to be famous around the world; I need to do something that I feel. "Faithfulness" Tell me more about your spiritual experiences with art. Well, for example I had a special experience with the painting called “Consolation.” When I first started painting I created a large space and eventually a personage appeared. When I saw this I understood it was supposed to be Christ. And with this space I thought, “Jesus is alone, so He’s in the desert,” and little by little I saw more. Halfway through, I understood it was Christ alone and I decided it would be the forty days in the desert. But I wanted to add an angel and I couldn’t remember anything in the scriptures about it, yet I really strongly felt that I should add an angel to comfort Him. So I added a small bird on the angel’s hand and the other hand was on Christ’s shoulder to comfort Him. And I thought that maybe I shouldn’t do something like that, make up characters. I finally went to the scriptures and I was very surprised because I had forgotten that detail of an angel coming to comfort Him (Matthew 4:11). It was a wonderful feeling. In another painting, that same personage reappeared, but this time it was Christ’s hand with a personage that represents all of us, and the hand of our Savior lifts the person up. It’s as if to say that whenever we feel heavy, the Savior is always by our side to lift us up. How did you join the Church? Ever since I was young, I’ve always prayed. At the time I didn’t know “Heavenly Father,” so I simply prayed to God. We were raised in Catholic school and the nuns were very strict, but in my head I had this prayer I had made up with God. On the other hand, I was never very religious. My brother who is two years younger than me discovered the Church in Lebanon, during the eighties. He met a sister who was a member and was desperate to know more, but at the time there wasn’t much knowledge because the Church hadn’t yet been restored in Lebanon after the war in the seventies–there was nothing; it was more or less to each his own, with only a small group of members baptized in Europe waiting, hoping for a change. He ended up flying to France, where I was living at the time, and he went straight to the US embassy to ask where he could find the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! He was baptized and quickly left on a mission to Minnesota, and he regularly wrote me. He would always ask me to read the Book of Mormon, but I really wasn’t ready. Then one night, I had a dream and I saw Christ in my dream: I saw myself in a stone tomb, like the ones in the Middle Ages, but it was open and I was sleeping and I held a small pouch in my hands–which meant that I wouldn’t be able to take many things with me after this life. At the time I was really living “in the world”; I partied a lot; I had a very pleasant, easy life … and there I was, with nothing but a tiny pouch. There were also two people in another tomb (I later understood that they were missionaries); they were young and they were looking at me but I was pretending to sleep. Then an extraordinarily beautiful personage came and took me by the hand to lift me out of the tomb. The missionaries were looking at me with big, surprised eyes. He took me on a mountaintop and there was a wooden table and bench. I sat next to Him and He began to speak to me. He asked me what I wanted to drink and suddenly He was all in white with white hair. I answered, “Water” and He said, “It is well.” Then He asked me a question that really frustrated me: “What in your life has the most value?” I told Him I didn’t know. He raised three fingers and said, “There are three things…” and as He was about to tell me what they were the phone rang. I was so frustrated! I closed my eyes and tried so hard to get the dream back. "You are My Arms" Six months later, I decided to return to Lebanon, and my brother’s friend who had introduced the gospel to him told me all about the Church. I think it’s at that point that I gained a testimony, before even reading the Book of Mormon. My whole life, I had been trying to know God in my prayers but I didn’t know how to know Him. How does being a woman influence your work? What difference does it make? I think that we have a palette of intuitions and colors that mix together, and that’s important. As women we are sensitive, we can feel certain things. Personally, I am very attached to the human condition: I think often about women and men who are suffering; I think about children; I think about the family unit. And I try to put a measure of the Spirit into my paintings so that people can feel that Spirit when they see something–the Spirit that gives peace to your heart. It doesn’t come from the painting itself; it comes from the Spirit that was put into the painting and that Spirit doesn’t come from me. I love serving Heavenly Father and I know that, as I was told in a blessing one day when I was ill, painting is part of my mission on earth. It’s a tool that I can use to touch people’s hearts. Joumana Borderie Does painting bring you closer to God? Yes. When I paint I try to work very closely with the Lord. It’s not easy, though, because artists that paint models or still-lifes can rely on what they see, but when you’re trying to bring it all out from inside of yourself, with nothing else to rely on, it requires a great deal of energy. The joy comes later, but it’s an enormous challenge, and I have had times where I just couldn’t do something and it suddenly came all by itself. And I would say to myself, “This isn’t possible–only the hand of God could have accomplished this.” I felt completely incapable; I needed a model for certain details, and then it came in such a natural way that I understood how God helps each of us, all of His daughters. He loves us no matter our profession, our personality, or our situation. He loves everyone and He watches over us. At A Glance Name: Joumana Borderie Age:48 Location:Paris - La Défense Marital Status:Married Children:9-year-old boy Occupation:Painter/Creator Schools Attended:École de Beaux Arts – Beirut, Grande École B.J .O – Paris Languages Spoken at Home:French Favorite Hymn:“If You Could Hie To Kolob” Interview by Lydia Defranchi

Cathy Stokes is a firebrand, common-sense Mormon. A pioneering member who was baptized in 1979, Cathy’s willingness to speak her mind has shaped her faith and helped bridged gaps among members of the church. Cathy recalls some painful memories of growing up in Mississippi, shares a beautiful reflection on tenderness, recites her favorite hymn, and speaks of the abounding goodness of God and the strength of Mormon women. What was your childhood like? I was born in Wilkinson County, Mississippi, in a little township called Doloroso. The root word for Doloroso is sorrow—and that’s for real. Life was so hard and punitive, and yet there were loving people of all races. But it was incredibly hard. I was the youngest daughter of six in a family of sharecroppers. The family split over me—the world didn’t have Jerry Springer and Maury Povich in those days, but the issue was my paternity. My father said I wasn’t his. He was not a kind man; he was very abusive. I’m told he put a gun in mother’s mouth but somehow there was a distraction and she got away. Let me tell you how he died. He was living with a woman who he was physically and emotionally abusive to and she had an adult son. After my father had beat her, this son put a shotgun at the back of my father’s head and pulled the trigger. He died like he lived. And when my brother called me to say he was dead, I said, “Who killed him?” He was a tortured soul and I spent too much time hating him. But I got beyond that, for which I’m grateful. I left Mississippi and moved to Chicago when I was five. My paternal great aunt got married and was too old to have children but she wanted a child, so my father gave her a price, she paid it, and it was a done deal. When we left Mississippi that night, we were a new family. I remember what we had for dinner; we had fried catfish and spaghetti. It was the first time I had ever experienced a plate. You know those little pie tins that you take back to Marie Callender’s for 50 cents? Everybody had a pie tin that they ate off of and you’d get your food and find someplace on the floor to sit and eat. So, there I was, looking at this [plate] and feeling the weight of it, and looking around to go sit on the floor. My great aunt took me by the arm and said, “We don’t do that anymore.” And I remember the tenderness with which she did it. I hadn’t experienced a lot of tenderness before. I’m grateful that because it was so hard, I know how good good is. To talk about “opposition in all things” [2 Nephi 2:11]—I know tenderness and I know its opposite, and I know tender is better. As Paul says, “[He] knows how to be abased, and how to abound,” [Philippians 4:12] and abounding is better. It absolutely is. How were you able to reconcile your harsh family life as a child? Everybody isn’t blessed with the kind of family that so many people are blessed to have. I heard a person I respect and have great affection for say that the most important thing in your life is your family. Well, the only problem with that is what happened to the first great commandment? The most important person in your life is your creator, the Lord thy God. After giving glory and honor to God, and the second great commandment is [love] your neighbor. I understand there is nothing more blessed than a wonderful family life, but everyone doesn’t have the same one and that’s okay. Catherine (Cathey) Stokes Also, unfortunately, the mindset that we’ve imposed on young women makes them feel less of a person if they’re not married. You’re born by yourself, you’re baptized individually, you are confirmed and endowed individually, and you will stand in the judgment individually. God loves all his daughters. You mentioned you were the only one in your family to get an education. Can you tell me more about that? I was the only one of my siblings who went to school. My brother was so proud when I graduated from college. When we moved to Chicago, I was told that papa’s job (my great aunt’s husband) was to go to work and make the money, mom’s job was to help make money and feed us and take care of things, and my job was to do well in school. “You have to get all A’s,” they told me. So I did. I never knew failure was an option. That was a great blessing in my life because if you look at the social context I came out of, I was suppose to at least be a criminal. When I graduated from Hyde Park High School in Chicago in 1954, I got my picture in the Chicago Tribune as the outstanding senior in the high school. Catherine (Cathey) Stokes Volunteering at the Huntsman Cancer Institute. Photo Courtesy of Deseret News. My papa and great aunt were very observant of the world around them. Papa was a bricklayer and the only time he could get a bricklayer’s wage was if he worked for the one black contractor in Chicago; the white ones wanted to pay you a laborer’s wage but he refused to work for laborer’s wage. He said you have to do what you believe is right. So I learn about integrity, I learned that you sometimes suffer when you stand for your beliefs. Challenges still come when you do the right thing or what you think is the right thing. After high school, I went to the Michael Reese Hospital School of Nursing. It was the largest private medical center in the Midwest at that time; now a group of physicians own it, and the school no longer operates. I went to DePaul later to finish my bachelor’s. God enabled me to get a great education. What brought you to Salt Lake City? I moved to Salt Lake after living 65 years in Chicago because I was looking for a place that had less density of population, where the winters were lighter—those Chicago winters are brutal—and a place where I knew a lot of people I cared about. It was Salt Lake hands down. And so here I am. Tell us about your conversion. My mother was Methodist, my father was Baptist, but I went to all of them, including the Lutheran church and the Unity School of Christianity—that’s the “power of positive thinking” people and that was a valuable experience. Then, while on a trip to Hawaii, I visited the Honolulu Temple and filled out a visitor card. I didn’t think I’d actually hear back from them. Catherine (Cathey) Stokes Speaking in June 2008 on the 30th Anniversary of the LDS Church Announcement Ending the Ban on Blacks in the Mormon Priesthood. Photo Courtesy of Salt Lake Tribune. I was impressed with the missionaries. They were weird little white boys, but I marveled that they’d pay to give up two years of their life at that age to teach people the gospel. And then when I went to the ward, I was impressed with the fact that they didn’t pay the bishop. I knew that was right. The correlation between what they said they believed and the expectation was very close. The way they handled the children and the young kids also endeared me. I had questions then and I have questions now, but the things I do understand bring such peace and enlightenment. I was baptized on April 28, 1979. I came to love everyone in that Hyde Park family ward. I got to serve them. Service is the key to rooting out hate and the biases from your heart and mind and soul. How do you serve now? My goal is to leave everyone better than I found them. I volunteer a couple of days a week at the Huntsman Cancer Hospital; that’s the best part of my week. I greet people and help answer questions at the information desk. Most people need information, and some need to cry. You have the ability to serve and comfort. When people come in with little babies, I tell them, “Excuse me, we have a rule that I have to certify the baby.” And then I look, and say, “Yep, he’s a cute kid, you can go,” and they laugh and it lifts them a little. It’s a wonderful place. I’m also the chorister in the Salt Lake 11th Ward. We sing some hymns a capella. I have so many favorite hymns: “Abide with Me; ‘Tis Eventide” is powerful. “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet”—many of those songs of the Restoration are beautiful. “Redeemer of Israel” speaks to me. Music is in my DNA. The old spirituals are generally sorrowful, but then there’s “In That Great Gettin’ Up Morning,” and the gospel songs like “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” make me happy. I love the words to “Great Is Thy Faithfulness”: Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father,There is no shadow of turning with Thee;Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail notAs Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!Morning by morning new mercies I see;All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me! We don’t talk about God’s faithfulness to us too much, but He is. You’re known throughout the church as someone who speaks her mind and asks hard questions. Is that a fair statement? If so, how has it shaped your faith in the gospel? Oh my gosh, it’s always gotten me in trouble. In the fifth grade, I went to a Catholic grade school and got in trouble because the nun said that everyone who wasn’t Catholic was going to hell. I raised my hand and asked, “Is that really true? I don’t think that’s true.” They marched me down to the Mother Superior and expelled me from school. At that moment, I knew I was going to die. I thought my parents were going to kill me for being expelled. So I stopped at the candy store on the way home and spent a nickel on candy—you could buy a lot of candy with a nickel—and walked slowly eating my favorite candy because I knew I was going to die. When I got home, papa asked why I was home early and I told him what happened. You know what he said? He said, “I thought it was time for you to come out of that school anyway.” At that moment I knew there was a God! I think a lot of people have questions but they don’t ask them. If we don’t ask the questions, we can’t have the conversation, and it’s the dialogue that enlarges us all, that enables us to get understanding. We’re told in Proverbs [4:7], “Above all, get understanding,” but sometimes we just swallow stuff. Who are your mentors? My mother who raised me. She was uneducated but bright. She helped me move on in life. Eleanor Roosevelt. Hillary Clinton. Belle Spafford, the former general president of the Relief Society— her involvement in the community is inspiring, I think we would have gotten along. Catherine (Cathey) Stokes. Photo Courtesy of MormonNewsroom.org If you could say anything to women in the church, what would it be? Lucy Mack Smith said it all: “We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another and gain instruction, that we may all sit down in heaven together.” That is where we need to focus. Never mind who’s working outside of the home and who’s staying—whatever choices we make, we must cherish one another. We need to support each other in our choices as much as we righteously can. Know who you are. Know what power lies within you. Get on a first-name basis with your Father in Heaven. Pour out your heart to Him. You got to get personal with Him. Know what He wants you to know and do what he wants you to do. And always be a proud woman of faith, never apologetic of who you are and what you believe. Never ashamed. At A Glance Name: Catherine (Cathey) Stokes Location: Doloroso, Mississippi Age: 77 Marital status: Divorced Occupation: Retired deputy director of Illinois Department of Public Health; volunteer at Huntsman Cancer Institute Schools Attended: Michael Reese Hospital School of Nursing; DePaul University Children: One daughter Baptism: Baptized April 28, 1979 Favorite Hymn: “Abide With Me: ‘Tis Eventide” Interview by Kathryn Peterson.