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Are Mormon Women Happy in the LDS Religion?
Mormon Women Are Not Content With Second-Class Status Sunday, October 15, 2000, Salt Lake Tribune
BY COURTNEY BLACK and MAXINE HANKS
When recently asked, "Will there ever be women priests in the Mormon church?" LDS Church President Gordon B. Hinckley answered: "Insofar as I can see, no. The women have their place . . . they have a voice in determining policy and doing many things in the church. I haven't found any complaint among our women. I'm sure there are a few, a handful somewhere who may be disaffected for one reason or another, but I've never seen any evidence of it." ("The Spiritual Life," Boston Globe, Sept. 2)
With all due respect to our remarkable 90-year-old church leader, we find his words unfathomable in the face of reality. Many Mormon women have expressed profound dissatisfaction for generations, privately and publicly, loudly and clearly, in print and in person, alone and in numbers.
Thus, we write to correct a misconception repeatedly set forth by LDS Church leaders in the media: Mormon women are not content; we do have complaints.
In fact, so many women have expressed dissatisfaction that numerous feminist efforts have come and gone, and women have been disciplined by the church -- some cases so publicized that every LDS leader is probably aware of these difficulties. For example, in 1988, "hundreds" of women contacted LDS church headquarters asking if they could participate in the priesthood blessing of their own babies. During the following years, women who tested this or other priesthood issues were censured or disciplined. Between 1993 and 1996, some of these women were excommunicated.
Mormon women are in a bind. If we disagree we reap trouble; if we relent we lose our voice. When our leaders say they "hear no complaint" it's because they have intimidated women into silence and compliance. Few women will risk excommunication.
Yet, if we say nothing, we support the false impression that we're content. Our choice is to conform, or risk church discipline, or leave. This leaves only one recourse -- to raise our voice in public, if we wish to be heard.
Leaving is not a solution. Mormonism is more than a religion, it's our cultural heritage. To leave Mormonism is to leave our culture, our ethnicity, our society, our life, our family, our inheritance. We and our grandmothers have built this church -- creating the community, bearing children, cooking, cleaning, caring for everyone, doing the daily labor necessary to make Mormonism work.
We carry the Mormon vision, while denied the right to conceive it; we bear great responsibility for the success of our community, without power to define our responsibility or ensure its success. This is disheartening at best, exhausting at worse.
Meanwhile, President Hinckley speaks of a hundred Mormon temples "looking heavenward." Mormons have been building temples for more than 160 years. Like the legendary fine china crushed into the stucco of the first Mormon temple, making it sparkle, women have poured their lives and hearts into the church for seven generations. For a hundred years, our grandmothers exercised a religious voice and authority -- giving blessings, creating policy, leading women's programs and publishing women's views.
Yet in our church today, women's programs, leaders and texts, even the leading women's speeches -- are designed or governed by men. All church doctrine, theology, and policy are created by men. While women may be included in discussion about issues and policy, the decisions are still made by men. It's a circular problem, because decision making is tied to priesthood.
Thus, if women disagree with male leaders, we're often ignored or dismissed, marginalized or ostracized -- until our religion feels less like home, and more like another brick-and-mortar building.
This puts women in a position of having to choose between our conscience and our church, between our fulfillment and our heritage. We live in contradiction and dissonance, our hearts breaking.
Yet in the New Testament we find the premise upon which the Mormon church was founded: James 1:5 promises that God will give wisdom "liberally . . . to all." This scripture clearly tells us that women may receive God's wisdom, as well as do men.
Personal spirituality is the core of Mormonism. Yet men often tread upon our religious freedom, intrude on our voices and inhibit our relationship with God. Only we ourselves can determine if God is working through us. Men may deny the existence of female theology, but it remains for women to decide and define.
We're not content to be denied our voice, nor our decision-making role in Mormonism. Our intent is simple: to speak for ourselves, and have our rightful place in church governance.
Meanwhile, church leaders continue insisting that women are happy in "their place." When President Hinckley repeated this misconception again in the Boston Globe, it struck a nerve. Boston conjures images of female suffrage and the American struggle for independence. If there were a way to discard false claims about women into Boston harbor, we would do it.
Instead, we unitedly attest that men do not speak for Mormon women. We speak for ourselves, unwilling to remain silent nor to leave. We sign our names, knowing that every woman on our list will be questioned by her church leaders, warning her to retreat. For this reason, a number of women who wanted to sign were afraid to add their names to this letter. And for every name on our list, we suspect hundreds more feel the same.
Courtney Black, Seattle, Wash.; Marti Jones, Salt Lake City; Sue Cannon, Corona, Calif.; Lynn Matthews Anderson, Belmont, Mass.; Mirele Holmes, Salt Lake City; Nadine Hansen, Cedar City; Karen Coates, Tucson, Ariz.; Elizabeth Dorsay, Sioux City, Iowa; Jenefer Zahn, San Jose, Calif.; Wendy Reynolds, Minneapolis; Kristy Benton, Phoenix; Hildi Mitchell, Brighton, England; Susan McMurray, Farmersville, Texas; Helen Back, Beijing, China; Valerie Hoyle, Salt Lake City; Sascha Roland, Salt Lake City; Susan Strickland, San Francisco; Julie Vandivere, Lewisburg, Penn.; Arta Johnson, Calgary, Alberta; Cherie Woodworth, New Haven, Conn.; Sonja Farnsworth, San Jose, Calif.; Mary Ellen Robertson, Altadena, Calif.; Marion Smith, Salt Lake City; Amber Satterwhite, Nashville, Tenn.; Alica Gregerson, Provo; Maureen E. Leavitt, Ann Arbor, Mich.; Patti Hanks, Dexter, Mich.; Cindy Le Fevre, Sacramento, Calif.; Charlotte J. Rickett Wykoff, Tucson, Ariz.; Katrina Leavitt Ramsey, Portland, Ore.; Loralie Kay, Barstow, Calif.; Terry Ann Harward, Spring Lake; Niki Hagan, Eugene, Ore.; Robin Burrows, Santa Monica, Calif.; Charlotte Smith, Salt Lake City; Helen Call, Afton, Wyo.; Joyce C. Cox, Afton, Wyo.; Wendy Smith, Salt Lake City; Holly Welker, Iowa City, Iowa; Marta Adair, Lindon; Mary Mulholland, Kenosha, Wis.; Nancy Kader, Washington, D.C.; Carlan Bradshaw, Los Angeles; Rebecca Loughman, Philadelphia; Laurel Evans, Sunnyvale, Calif.; Susan Barton, Manhattan, Kan.; Yvette Hansen, San Jose, Calif.; Judy Dushku, Watertown, Mass.; Kathleen Hansen, San Diego, Calif.; Gloria Manning, British Columbia, Canada. Excommunicated women, Maxine Hanks and Lavina Fielding Anderson, both of Salt Lake City.
This article originally appeared in the Boston Globe on Oct. 7.
Page Modified October 19, 2000