It Takes a Village.... my ass

Exerts from a letter written to a friend....

I too have written a million letters to Rev. *&$%@ in my head. I've described the joy of finding a "community" to worship with and the hope that this bubble that I'm mothering in would be burst. That Spencer could reach out to others, giving them the same joy that he gives me everyday while I have a moment to breathe deeply and sing.

I understand that not everyone in this congregation has chosen to share their lives with children but by making a pledge to be a supportive member of NUU church they are not only making that pledge to all the adults of the congregation but to the children too. I think such effort is made to meet the needs everyone but they don't see that Spencer's needs are to explore and raise his voice when he feels joy in his heart. To talk about fire because fire inspires awe and curiosity in him. He needs to bang on a chair while he sings because his voice just isn't loud enough to express himself but he wants to be a part of all this beauty. These are all the ways that my son worships and it fills me with joy and pride that he would feel comfortable enough with these people that he would share himself with them.

I heard services that spoke to tolerance but felt none when my child fussed. The wiggle room is a great idea but unfortunately it segregates and doesn't allow my familly to be a part of the service and fellowship. I was also "kindly" shown the way to the wiggle room on many occasions.

As you know the last straw for me was the service inappropriately named "It takes a village". I was so hopeful that all of these issues would finally be resolved and Vanessa would have the opportunity to explain what a village is and why it takes more than a mother to raise a child. During this service we were once again banished to the wiggle room where strangely the sound system was broken. Every time Vanessa would try to express all the feeling I had in my heart about community Rev. *&$%@ would interrupt or temper her ideas with "as long as it doesn't interrupt anyone else". I was heartbroken. He even brought up examples of how One's (Spencer's) behaviour could be disruptive. No one could deny that Spencer was the only who weekly approached the chalice. At one point during the service Spencer decided that he wanted to stand next to Vanessa as she spoke. Vanessa smiled and absently patted him on the head continuing to speak while Rev. *&$%@ visibly annoyed picked him up and brought him back to me. At the end of the service all the children were brought back in and sang Namaste. Spencer fussed and I was angrily shushed. I quickly gathered my things and left crying.

Rethinking these things I realize that I'm still so hurt, angry and disappointed. How dare they not look at my son and be reminded of all the beautiful things in this world that we are there to rejoice in.