How to Face "The Other"
You may have been wrong about me, but I was wrong about you, too
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Hello lovely readers,
I am writing to you from the south of Thailand! Jonny and I are here on a trip visiting family, and although I am burned to a crisp (OUCH), I am enjoying the food, the many many plants, the sandy beaches, turquoise water, and mango sticky rice!!!
Being out here has reminded me of my first time to Asia.
In 2019, I traveled with about 20 other American students on a scholarship to study Mandarin in a completely immersive, high-intensive program. We took a pledge to only speak Chinese, and attended six hours of classes each day with 3+ hours of homework at night. We lived with host families and were assigned a language partner. Going to China was a lifelong dream of mine, and being able to deepen my language skills and understanding of the culture was truly such a gift. Those two months really impacted my life. In many ways, during the trip, I learned about “The Other.”
I anticipated that I would feel different from the Chinese Nationals, of course, but what I didn’t expect was how different I’d feel from my American classmates.
The program was a highly competitive national scholarship funded by the U.S. Department of State1. Many of my classmates were interested in pursuing a career in international business, global communications, or international affairs in the government. They were the top of their class, had gone to prestigious schools, and had clear understandings of how the world and government functioned.
To say that I felt different from them would be an understatement. I was studying education, knew embarrassingly little about politics, was one of few who were religious, and was definitely the only Mormon. It was, in many ways, pretty isolating. I couldn’t attend Church, or legally even speak about the Church that much. During a tea ceremony, I had to explain in fumbled Chinese that I couldn’t drink tea with leaves, only with flowers (it’s true). On the weekends, most of my classmates prioritized going to clubs and drinking. I didn’t feel comfortable accompanying them even if I didn’t drink, so I often stayed behind.
I loved my cohort members, and they loved me too, but the truth was that I’d never really learned to interact with peers in settings like this.
I wasn’t naive enough to think that everyone outside of the Church was “bad” persay… I would have used words like “lost” or “never truly happy”. As both a missionary and laymember, my motive for befriending people outside of my faith always had the pretense that I had the duty and obligation to convert them. I was wary of their life choices, like drinking or casual sex, and I made sure that my closest friendships would be those that wouldn’t put my “testimony”2 in jeopardy.
My stark differences with my classmates did result in some awkward experiences, like some of them admitting that they had been “nervous” to meet me when they had stalked my Facebook profile prior and saw that I was Mormon.
“We were wrong about you!” they said. But I still felt a pit in my stomach.
You see, they may have been wrong about me, but I was wrong about them, too.
Like when, at a bar, the student next to me offered to try my drink first just to make sure there wasn’t alcohol in it. Or, when we were at lunch, and the only drink they offered was tea, my classmate ordered hot water as if it were for himself then slyly gave it to me. I think he could sense how tired I was of needing to constantly explain myself and my nonsensical rules. Yes, I can have caffeine if it’s in Coca Cola, but not jasmine tea. Yeah, I know, I don’t really know why, either.
My fear of “The Other” decreased significantly during that two-month program, and it paved the way for me to be able to accept new worldviews and belief systems (religious or not) as valid.
I came away from that trip feeling so cared for and respected by my classmates. We both recognized our differences, but they navigated them with so much more grace than I did.
The issue with “othering” people is that it comes from a place that you are right and they are wrong. My desire to convert others to my religion came out of duty, yes, but also a genuine concern for their salvation and happiness. Either way, I always had something to teach them, not the other way around.
I guess I’ve always been a teacher at heart, when really, I should have focused more on being a student.
“Other”ing in Mormonism has a violent history.
Quite literally, to survive, my Mormon pioneer ancestors needed to know clearly who was a member and who wasn’t. The early Mormon saints were persecuted due to the secret practice of polygamy and financial situations that caused internal strife and external criticism. The members were repeatedly driven from their homes, moving from Kirtland to Nauvoo and then to Independence, Missouri. The governor of Missouri at the time even issued a Mormon “Extermination Order” in 1838, which clearly called the Mormon settlers “enemies,” saying they must be “exterminated or driven from the state… for the public peace.”
That Extermination Order was not lifted for 138 years — until 1976!
If I was a Mormon living in Missouri at that time, I can definitely understand why I’d want to know who was “for” me and who was “against” me.
Besides the Mormons themselves being the ones “othered” (which I will say, does happen quite a bit! Ever had a musical made to poke fun at what you consider sacred beliefs??), we have done our own fair share of “othering.”
Some examples include but are not limited to:
Calling all Native Americans “Lamanites” and trying to teach them their history via the Book of Mormon — this resulted in sometimes fatal acts of racism in early Utah days. Not to mention, umm, colonization.
Banning members of the black community from being able to hold the Priesthood. Not only did they ban black church members from the priesthood, but also anyone who was mixed race, which led to no interracial marriages (which continued to be taught against even after the ban was lifted) and caused some members to conceal their family history in order to participate in the church’s saving priesthood ordinances.
Mountains Meadows Massacre — a supposed miscommunication that lead to a mass murder of over 120, including women and children (this event is one of the few circumstances that the church has apologized for what happened)
The Church taking an official stance on Prop 8 in 2008
The Church creating policies that do not allow the children of same-sex couples to be baptized (later revoking the policy), and still not allowing same-sex couples to be married in the temple or participate in temple or priesthood ordinances
Referring to anywhere other than Utah as “the mission field”
Referring to people not in the Church as “lost” and “unhappy”
OOF. Right?
Although we generally have access to the natural resources needed to survive, the underlying fear of not having a clan to protect us is engrained into the collective human psyche.
In the end, our sweet lizard brain just wants to feel SAFE.
The Social Identity Theory suggests that we feel better about ourselves when we can classify people as different from us. By categorizing ourselves in “us” and other people as “them”, we can become more assured in our position in society and in life.
When it came to religion, I lived out Tajfel’s Social Identity Theory by automatically filing people into the categories of “member” and “non-member” and then even further from “active member” to “less active member.”
Temple recommend holders vs non temple recommend holders. Sacrament takers vs not sacrament takers. Regular church goers vs non-regular church goers.
Sometimes the othering was conscious — checking for garment lines peeping through their shirts or above their knees, and other times it was unconscious, where I didn’t realize until later that I had categorized them a certain way for having a double piercing in their ear.
These external choices and appearances seem to be the easiest way to categorize who is “with” you and who is “against” you. But are these external choices really the best way to make a judgment on someone’s heart?
Two summers ago, in Taiwan, the leader of the English teaching program we worked for told me she was constantly welcoming and hosting people from different countries, including mainland China. Taiwan and China have a complicated and painful history, which now results in China periodically sending over missiles close to the little island to remind them they could be taken over at any moment.
She said whenever she welcomes people from China, she can sense their unease about meeting a Taiwanese. “They probably think I don’t like them,” she told me, “But I show them that I do.”
When I asked her more, she said, “If one day China plans to attack, I want these Chinese people to think, ‘I have a friend over there’. Maybe if they think that, they won’t attack.”
Could it really be that simple?
The aforementioned black priesthood and temple ban was lifted in 1978, but many members and apostles before that time maintained that this was God’s way. They probably defended this racist and nonsensical doctrine repeatedly to friends and strangers alike, so to go back on that might feel like energy wasted, not to mention embarrassing. It took a lot of legwork by Spencer W. Kimball to get all of the quorum of the twelve apostles on board with lifting the ban. In order for a change like that to happen, they all had to agree.
To help some of the more resistant apostles to change their mind, Kimball sent these men to Brazil3. Brazil was a very diverse country with latino members, black members and white members. As the Church grew in Brazil, they were running out of people without some sort of mixed ancestry to keep the Church going (ugh, writing out that sentence makes me feel sick). President Kimball himself had been to Brazil multiple times and had developed strong relationships with people whom this priesthood and temple ban directly impacted. He knew that in order to get everyone else on board, they would need to see this, too.
I can imagine that actually coming face to face with “the other” impacted these final sticklers to reconsider their biases and eventually concede to grant all people in the church access to heaven (per Mormon doctrine of temple ordinances, this is not an exaggeration!)
Eventually, the men came to an agreement to lift the ban in 1978.
Perhaps just like my friend in Taiwan, these men would think of the friends they made in Brazil each time they went to the temple or performed a priesthood ordinance that was restricted to non-Black members.
It seems that forming genuine relationships across “othering” borders often results in curiosity, fairness, inclusion, humility, and grace.
I can’t help but mention that in the United States, our political climate right now feels very divided. There are people’s lives at stake, and it might feel morally wrong to reach across the divide to be curious about someone else’s point of view. To associate with “the other.” But we have to. We just have to.4 If we want any change to happen, it seems that relationships are at the heart of any wanted change.
I remember a friend told me the biggest thing she learned on her mission was that there were “really, really good people” outside of the Church. Isn’t that interesting, that at 20 years old, that’s something that needs to be learned? That we just automatically assume the people in the Church will be the most good?
I mean, I had to learn it, too. I learned it in New York. I learned it in China. I learned it in Texas.
Again and again, when I connect all the dots — I see that what has consistently changed my mind about others, was OTHERS.
I have never been bullied or proselytized into belief. Has anyone, ever? Action, maybe, but belief?
Perhaps the best we can do is be willing to meet people, accept them as our teachers, and let them change us.
May we treat “the other” as ourselves,
Critical Language Scholarship, for those curious! I would definitely recommend for college/high school students <3
Ahhh, the testimony, such an abstract concept in Mormonism, isn’t it? “Don’t lose your testimony!” “Don’t destroy your testimony!”
The testimony is your lived experience. When you think of someone testifying in court… that’s not something you can just forget or destroy. You don’t lose your lived experience. Even now, I can still bear my testimony about Mormonism — it just might not be fitting for a faith-promoting church setting.
Matt Harris just published a book about this. He did thorough research on the priesthood and temple ban. I find his research and presentations to be very well articulated! You can learn specifically about this situation in this podcast episode. I also listened to this series on Mormon Stories and was blown away. I will say I’m not a huge fan of Mormon Stories generally because it tends to skew a bit negative for my taste, but I am a fan of Matt Harris, and I thought he offered a very nuanced and thoughtful perspective.
I recommend this substack article by my beloved Mari Andrew about “The Other”!
Loved this! You don’t realize what a burden it is to feel “superior” to others until you release it. Now I love being curious about people and what they have to teach me. Such a better way to live!