HOME
SUNDAY SCHEDULE
NEWSLETTER
CALENDAR
DIRECTIONS
LEADERSHIP
PROGRAMS
OUR BELIEFS
SERMONS
RELIGIOUS EDUCATION
SOCIAL ACTION
ABOUT US
CONTACT US

We make decisions every day- what shirt to wear, what to have for lunch, and if we REALLY have enough time to watch that TV show after dinner. Although decision making is a part of our everyday lives, sometimes, decisions can have a profound effect on our present and our future. I don't mean to overload you with sappy, cliché phrases- believe me, I'm just as cynical as every other kid in my generation. I was raised in a school district that, year after year, bombarded us with motivational speakers all saying essentially the same thing. Now, as a liberated teenager of sixteen years, I can drive myself home and skip the assemblies. Don't get me wrong; it's not that they don't have anything valuable to say. It's just that I've realized that I can say it better myself… plus I have no school spirit.

I'm sure that if you think about it, you could pinpoint several moments when you made a decision that changed your life. For people of my age, these decisions are probably things like… deciding to apply to a certain college… or deciding to try their best and apply themselves to school… or deciding to party every night instead. For people my parents' age, these decisions could be things like deciding to go on your first date with your spouse or life partner… or choosing whatever your major ended up being in college… or deciding to protest the Vietnam War and burning your draft card. What I'm trying to say is that everyone makes decisions that change their lives, so today, I will tell you about one of mine.

My life changing decision, while important, was not what sparked the entire chain of events. My decision was the deciding factor in a long line of variables- an unlikely road that lead me to where I am today. So, in a fashion reminiscent of Indiana Jones, let's flash back so I can give you some back-story so you can understand how all of this started.

The story starts like this: both of my parents were raised in Catholic families. They went to the same school first grade through eighth grade. They went to high school- my dad at DeSmet, my mom at St. Joe's- the epitome perfect Catholic school kids. So far, this story doesn't look like it's going to end up with little Emily going to Eliot Chapel. But bear with me, we'll get there soon. My parents got married and had children- two little girls (my sister and me). When my sister was in first grade, she started asking my parents what religion we were. My parents didn't know exactly how to respond, so my mom called her brother in California. Though he too was raised Catholic and married in the Catholic church, he and his wife decided to break with tradition and go to the Unitarian Universalist church in Long Beach, California, where they lived. He told my mom about the church and she decided to check it out, looking in the yellow pages to find one near us. Ultimately, she decided on the First Unitarian Church of St. Louis. We went there for two years, but decided to come to Eliot when I was in first grade because Eliot had a stronger youth program at the time.

I went through R.E. like most kids do, finally ending up in the Junior High program, where I participated in the Neighboring Faiths program in seventh grade. Through this program, we learned about many other religions… but that wasn't the thing that really got to me. In the same year, we compiled, as a class, the Youth Sunday service- known to the Junior High as the Affirmation service. We got to talk about individuality and explore what being a Unitarian Universalist meant to us. Then, at thirteen years old, I realized that the UU church was really my spiritual home.

As soon as I could, which was really in eighth grade, I got involved in the senior high group and couldn't wait to go to cons. Cons are our senior high youth conferences that we have three times a year- fall, winter, and spring, and eighth graders are allowed to go to the spring con. The spring of my eighth grade year, I was fired up and more than ready to go to con.

I didn't really know that much about cons when I got there, but what I found was a unique spiritual community of people who clearly loved each other very much. During my first con worship, as it was a spring con, there were the senior goodbyes- where the seniors each have a chance to talk briefly about what cons have meant to them and say goodbye to the community as they bridge into the Young Adult world. Even though I knew only a few of the seniors bridging, I cried with the rest of my friends because I felt the profound loss that the entire community felt as it lost some of its most integral members.

My freshman year, I didn't miss a single con, and when our youth group learned that we would be hosting the spring con that year, I didn't hesitate to take on a lot of responsibility. My friend Holly and I decided to run Home Hospitality- something that some of you may remember, because I called maybe a hundred of you in the course of a few weeks asking you to volunteer your couches, beds, and floors as a place for the wonderful youth of the Central Midwest District to sleep. The pre-con planning was stressful and time consuming, but the con itself ran smoothly. When I got to my own Home Hospitality, though, I got something extra to think about.

The large coed house that I had assigned myself to was filled with my friends, and some of these friends comprised the District Youth Steering Committee, or DYSC. Because of the way that they stagger elections, three of the six positions are open each spring con to anyone who wants to run, decided by popular election. My good friend Gareth Smail was a senior, and his position of Youth Council Representative was open, as was the position of Treasurer and one of the Suspenders. I had talked to Gareth a lot over the course of my three previous cons, and that particular night, he starting talking to me about being on DYSC. He thought that I should run for his position, which entailed going to Youth Council in the summer and… some other stuff. He didn't really say, and all too soon, the hectic mess that is running a con continued, and I pushed the thought to the back of my mind where it wouldn't interfere with more pertinent ones, like: "How are the workshops going to work out?" "Are adult home hospitalities arranged for Saturday night?" and "Is there REALLY enough diet soda to go around?"

On Saturday, at lunch, people applying for DYSC were encouraged to go to their obligatory lunch meeting- to sit in and see how things ran. At this point, I hadn't really decided what I wanted to do, so I opted to go to the meeting. After sitting through an hour and a half meeting, I decided to run for Youth Council Rep- after all, what was the worst that could happen? What I didn't know was that deciding to run would ultimately change my life. So, I signed up and elections were held later and…

To make a long story short, through the miracles of run-off voting, I won the position by something like seven votes, a fact that I would not find out until much later. In any case, I got the position and accordingly, got a six-day trip- paid in full- to LA that summer. There, I met with the other Youth Council Representatives from the other 26 districts and regions across the US and Canada, along with the People of Color Caucus, to pass legislation for Young Religious Unitarian Universalists (YRUU) and participate in anti-racism/anti-oppression training. While Youth Council 2004 was amazing and I met some of my best friends, it didn't really change my life. I went back to another year of Central Midwest cons and YRUU.

I went to Youth Council 2005 this summer not really knowing what to expect. This time, it was 10 days long and held in the middle of nowhere, Iowa. While you may be thinking, "Well, isn't EVERYWHERE in Iowa the middle of nowhere?" you would be correct… but the magnitude is something you could not understand. Ten days of anti-racism and anti-oppression work in Boone, Iowa isn't something that most folks would consider fun… but it fundamentally changed my life.

Youth Council 2005 made me take an honest look at myself and my life and realize how truly privileged I am as a white, upper middle class, heterosexual female. I got to meet some great people and become better friends with others as we all struggled together to learn how to create a less oppressive world. We discussed the need for education reform and multiculturalism in schools and how traditional schooling, as it is in the status quo, should not be the only form of education accepted as valid by society. We talked about bad power dynamics in situations: how to recognize them and how to remedy them while making sure not to tokenize people. We talked about feeling marginalized and feeling like we mattered: what both felt like, and how to make sure not to marginalize others. We learned about cultural misappropriation and that it's not okay to take parts of someone else's culture for your own benefit, no matter how tempting it might be. And most of all, we talked about racism- how it's still prevalent in society today, how a lot of folks don't acknowledge that fact, and how it manifests itself in places that we don't WANT to see it, like in our congregations.

All in all, Youth Council 2005, ten days in the cornfields of Iowa, made me reevaluate the way that I live my life and how I approach different situations. It made me even more willing to call other people out on using oppressive language like "gay" or "retarded"- words that, when used in a derogatory context, take on a new and hurtful meaning. I spent a lot of time thinking about how to explain myself and my so-called "radical" beliefs to others… and I spent a lot of time thinking about what it means to me to be Unitarian Universalist.

What I have decided is that, to me, being a UU means more than just coming to youth group on Sunday, more than just going to youth conferences three times a year. To me, being a member of Young Religious Unitarian Universalists means that I strive for social justice in every facet of my life- even if it causes some awkwardness when I call out a friend for using oppressive language every once in a while. I've decided that I have found my beliefs, and I'm sticking to them. Struggling to be anti-oppressive isn't easy- it's been a huge change in the way that I look at myself and at the people who surround me. But like those million motivational posters will tell you- stand up for what is right, even if you're standing alone.

So, the next time you're in a high school hallway and you see one of those motivational posters urging you to "Be Yourself!" or "Seize the Day!"… just turn the other way. Forget the posters, walk out the door, and make your own life changing decision.