A lesson for me

I learned a good lesson the hard way yesterday while teaching a lesson, which is not only confusing, but a particularly public forum to make a mistake.

I volunteered to teach the lesson in Relief Society (the LDS Church’s women’s organization), which happened to be on women. I read the lesson a few times through, but didn’t put in any deep preparation because it seemed like a generally uplifting topic – “a pat on the back” for women as I called it at the beginning of the lesson.

I didn’t really pray about the lesson. I didn’t really ponder on how to present it. I figured I could fall back on my blabber-mouth abilities and just roll with the subject matter as discussion got going.

Well, I was wrong.

First, it was not a “pat on the back” for everyone. Even though there were great attempts in the lesson to address the different talents, feelings and life situations of most women, it couldn’t possibly cover all the individual circumstances. So after I waxed on and on about woman’s innately nurturing nature, one sister commented that, “Actually, it’s not natural. I’ve had to work for years to be nurturing. We are not all born that way.”

And that was just the tip of an iceberg that began to melt in the classroom, leaving me to drown in a pool of my own insensitivity. Several women had to point out that vague generalizations couldn’t fully capture the individual natures of every woman. And they’re right. I know that, I just didn’t take the time to say it at the beginning of the lesson.

Also, while I wanted to stress the equality of mothers and women without children ... I didn’t do enough preparation to have insightful words and examples on hand, leaving me to fluster through personal stories of being a wife and mother, thus slinging arrows into the hearts of women who don’t share my personal situation and don’t need another reminder.

Now, I want to make it clear that I wasn’t being cruel or rude. I embraced the comments as they came and clarified their importance. In the end, I think I faked a certain calmness that covered up some of my worst blunders. I don’t think anyone left inspired, but I don’t think anyone left offended either.

But that’s not good enough.

In general, I don’t favor obsessive political correctness because no matter what you say someone can be offended if they choose to. I can’t pretend not to be a mother and wife – I have to draw on both of those things because that is my life experience. It’s who I am, and I can’t deny that.

But I could have been kinder. I could have been more sensitive. And, most importantly, I could have been more prepared.

Which brings me to my final musing, which is this: It’s time to grow up. I think for so long I thought I could skate by half-heartedly in life because I was the young one, the college student, the newlywed, the new mother. I felt like I wasn't expected to do as much, know as much, serve as much or achieve as much.

But I’m not so young anymore. I’m an adult. And adults have to do hard things. And even though my life is busy, and even though I’m still not as established as other women I know, I am no less accountable for my actions. I am no less needed to mend broken hearts, strengthen feeble knees and truly prepare a freaking lesson.

Like the lesson said: “Let other women pursue heedlessly their ... selfish interests. You can be a much needed force for love and truth and righteousness on this planet.”

Guess it’s time to take off my training wheels.

Guess it’s time to grow up.