M
Mimi
Guest
Recently Ms. MonCrief posted this explanation on her blog,
www.anitamoncrief.blogspot.com:
“How This Ex-Liberal Found Fortitude and Her Way Home”
"Growing up black and Catholic in the South was an interesting experience
that taught me a great deal about people. I believe I spent less than a week
in public school before transferring to a private Catholic school and
beginning theology classes that still intertwine with my life experience. I
remember going to a Baptist funeral and feeling so out of place. The
expression of intense emotion was not something that I had never seen in
church, the songs were unfamiliar and the style was foreign to me. Growing
up poor in a less than ideal family dynamic led for me to crave order and
routine. Some friends often remarked about the order of the Mass or told me
that it was boring, but to me it was comforting. I knew what was coming and
I was ready. Reciting phrases in Latin or receiving Communion were things I
trusted and understood.
"Often in interviews I am asked about my conversion from the far left
liberal (radical) to the conservative movement and I always think back to
first grade. While I had been Catholic all my life, I did not realize it
until I went to school. I felt a little lost and very scared. That’s how I
feel about blacks and conservatism. I left the church as a young woman, the
church never changed but my desire not to live by its rules led me to break
free.
"Over the years, I have tried and studied other religions but Catholicism is
home, and nothing feels like home. As a liberal there was a certain part of
me that fought against the world. It was never a fair fight though, because
my opinions were set and no amount of proof could change that. As a liberal
trying to find her way, I often felt like I was trying on religions again. I
didn’t fit in, asked lots of questions and was uneasy about my path. Being
lost will do that, only I did not know I was on the wrong path. I channeled
that anger at the “system” into art work, I went home at night and tried not
to think about the moms living on Section 8 in the “projects” who worried
about their kids and still tried to look out for me too. I ignored the
feelings of desperation when I talked to my young friends, so full of
promise but without an adequate foundation to succeed.
(more follows)
www.anitamoncrief.blogspot.com:
“How This Ex-Liberal Found Fortitude and Her Way Home”
"Growing up black and Catholic in the South was an interesting experience
that taught me a great deal about people. I believe I spent less than a week
in public school before transferring to a private Catholic school and
beginning theology classes that still intertwine with my life experience. I
remember going to a Baptist funeral and feeling so out of place. The
expression of intense emotion was not something that I had never seen in
church, the songs were unfamiliar and the style was foreign to me. Growing
up poor in a less than ideal family dynamic led for me to crave order and
routine. Some friends often remarked about the order of the Mass or told me
that it was boring, but to me it was comforting. I knew what was coming and
I was ready. Reciting phrases in Latin or receiving Communion were things I
trusted and understood.
"Often in interviews I am asked about my conversion from the far left
liberal (radical) to the conservative movement and I always think back to
first grade. While I had been Catholic all my life, I did not realize it
until I went to school. I felt a little lost and very scared. That’s how I
feel about blacks and conservatism. I left the church as a young woman, the
church never changed but my desire not to live by its rules led me to break
free.
"Over the years, I have tried and studied other religions but Catholicism is
home, and nothing feels like home. As a liberal there was a certain part of
me that fought against the world. It was never a fair fight though, because
my opinions were set and no amount of proof could change that. As a liberal
trying to find her way, I often felt like I was trying on religions again. I
didn’t fit in, asked lots of questions and was uneasy about my path. Being
lost will do that, only I did not know I was on the wrong path. I channeled
that anger at the “system” into art work, I went home at night and tried not
to think about the moms living on Section 8 in the “projects” who worried
about their kids and still tried to look out for me too. I ignored the
feelings of desperation when I talked to my young friends, so full of
promise but without an adequate foundation to succeed.
(more follows)