An Open Letter

Dear Heather, Your letter was a gift, filled with such genuine kindness and layered with such vulnerability that I wanted to give back so I am writing this letter to you.

The truth is that I do have a fear of Christians. It seems silly to say that aloud when, intellectually, I know there are many good ones in the world but there is such a loud chorus from those who use their faith to deny others the respect and dignity they deserve that it is easy to forget that.

I grew up in Kansas, part of the Bible Belt, a state where people still teach creationism. I was baptized in the Baptist church before I understood what it meant and despite the fact that my parents weren't particularly religious. In junior high school, I read the Bible cover to cover because I thought I should, because I thought doing so would make me "good" -  though I admit to getting lost with all the begetting. I have family members who are born again Christians and some of them have accepted me and some of them have not. After coming out, there were people who stopped speaking to me and wouldn't acknowledge Luisa and used religion to justify their response.

In college, I took "Women in the Bible" because I wanted to understand how feminists could be Christians and then took "Christian Scriptures" because I wanted to study the verses that were so often used against people like me.

For most of my life, Christianity has been an ominous whisper, a voice that calls for my attention and startles me but when I turn around, I find no one is there.

I have seen what has been done in the name of Christianity and, while I know that it is a distortion, every time I meet someone who identifies as a Christian, I become guarded and prepare to defend myself.

When we met in August at BlogHer, I immediately felt a connection to you. It was a brief conversation but we laughed and there was that particular energy that makes you say to yourself, "Yes!" and do a little fist pump. I felt like you were someone I would like to get to know, someone with whom I wanted to work.

I came home and immediately went to check out your blog and the first post I read was one in which you referred to yourself as a Christian and talked about your faith in God. I felt that ominous whisper behind me once more and wondered what this might mean for us. I wondered, "Does she know I'm a lesbian?", "Is she conservative?", "How will I find the answers to these questions?" and "What will I do with the answers?"

But I never had to ask the questions because every word exchanged between us, every moment shared since our first meeting made me realize that the way I felt about you when we first met - that was the truth and the fear and worry had nothing to do with you.

Dorothy Allison wrote, "I would rather go naked than wear the coat the world has made for me." I think of these words often because I want so much to be seen in all of my complexity. That is one of the reasons I write - to show that I am more than all that society ascribes to me because I identify as a lesbian. Now, this quote makes me think about you too, about the assumptions I made and the fear I felt. We are both shedding the coats the world has made for us and, as we do, there is such beauty in the raw, naked truth.

Of course, this is bigger than both of us. We live in a world in which people make assumptions and judgments about others constantly based simply on race and culture, religion and class, gender expression and sexual preference. With so much anger and frustration in the world, I often wonder how we can build community and create a culture of respect and I always come back to this: sometimes, we do it one person at a time, with honesty and a willingness to be vulnerable.

So, thank you. Thank you for your words and your faith and all that you do in the world.

We are going to do amazing things together.

With love,

Vikki

More Will Be Revealed

Fifteen years. That's what I keep thinking...fifteen years. I have tried to remember what I thought about when I began my career as an Adult Protection investigator all those years ago. Did I think I could save people? Did I want to help? Did I simply want to do some good in the world?

I honestly don't remember.

As I reflect, however, it's hard not to wonder if I accomplished anything at all. In the past few weeks, I haven't been able to sleep - flashes of people and places keeping me awake. Court cases. Garbage houses. Police raids. A gun shot. The thrill of righteousness. The learned helplessness that comes from walking away.

In the end, perhaps the only thing I ever really did was bear witness - to be that one person to say to someone, "I believe you", "I understand", "I am sorry".

Did it matter? Was it enough?

Today I am handing in my badge and walking away one last time. I don't know how I feel. I do know that I am a different person than I was 15 years ago, different because the job changed me and different because times changes us all.

People keep asking me, "What are you going to do next?"  and I don't really know.

A colleague once told me, "You don't need all the answers. More will be revealed." It was the best advice I got on the job and it seems fitting now.

Yes, more will be revealed.

For now, I am saying goodbye to a large part of who I have been but I am leaving with more stories than I can carry.

Maybe the good will come of that.

If I Only Had the Nerve...

A couple of years ago, I had a recurring dream in which I became frustrated with my job and quit without any plans for what I would do next. Dream Vikki would awake the next day and immediately regret quitting and beg to return to work. In my dream, I always went back.

I have thought about that dream a lot in the past few days. Was it prophetic? Was it a warning? Did it have any meaning at all? There is no way of knowing.

What I do know is that Real Vikki and Dream Vikki are leading parallel lives because, last Friday, I resigned from my position as a social worker in Adult Protection.

This time, however, there is no going back.

It is no secret that I have been burned out for some time. I applied for promotions and interviewed for lateral moves that would take me away from direct service. I even requested a leave of absence but it was denied. I felt trapped and it became clear that my only option was to leave.

But I am not one to take risks and change is hard. It is not easy to walk away from the job that has been the cornerstone of my professional life for the past 15 years.  I am sad and scared but I am trying to have faith that my path will be revealed to me.

My last day will be 11/2/12.

After that, this Cowardly Lion is for hire.