So, I’m at the shelter, over night as is often the case. I been having a lotta trouble doing things lately when I’m not here because I just want to sleep all the time. This is a symptom of depression and/or anxiety and it is certainly true that I’ve been experiencing some of both, what with the state of things – cops murdering unarmed people of color at an even faster rate than they were before the pandora, mass shootings all over, the majority of states pushing legislation that would criminalize trans children, and the blatant white supremacist shit coming from the GOP. Oddly enough, Virginia is the safe zone for LGBTQ+ in the SE, which has inspired me to start using “Rally behind the Virginians!” when I’m inviting trans folx and families with trans kids to relocate to the Old Dominion. We got room.
In the midst of all this, I’m theoretically still working on going to seminary in August. I’ve got everything turned in to the seminary I wanna go to except for the pastoral reference. Here’s the shit: I have on occasion emailed my pastor this past year about getting together, in real life or on Zoom, to talk about my progress – he’s my relator or whatever, the person assigned by the synod to help me with this – and he’s never responded. Last month, I started emailing harder about needing the reference and still got nothin’. I emailed the Bishop’s office last week – Bishop’s assistant said to call the church, so I did that. Left a voice message, texted the guy. Nothin’. And a day or so ago, I realized that I don’t want a pastoral reference from this bro because I don’t want him to be my pastor. I’m fuckin’ done with him. As far as I can tell, the hardest thing he’s ever had to endure was “The Phantom Menace”. I was willing to work with him when he was assigned to me because I figured it wouldn’t involve a whole lot – and I don’t actively dislike him, or anything. I just don’t look at him as someone who has been through anything or achieved anything that I respect a whole lot. And the other pastor at the local church is a little too much like a soccer mom for me. Very cheery, but how real is that?
So I won’t be going back to the local when the panorama is over. I’ve checked out a few ELCA churches on the online, and he nearest ones with female pastors are like an hour away. That’s a bit of a drive, though I’d definitely do it – especially if some friends wanted to go. So now I need a pastoral reference and I’ve decided to cut ties with my pastor – who has basically cut ties with me by default. And I still gotta finish my BA. I been having a lotta trouble with that. I’m doing a Zoomer with the woman at the U. who has the job of making sure I get it because if’n I don’t it hurts their stats on Monday, so hopefully, she can explain things in a way I can understand. Or just sign me up for some classes, I don’t fuggin care.
To be clear: I’m not leaving the ELCA, just the local church. The building is lovely and the people are nice, but that’s just it. They’re nice. Like white people. Sure, they’re generally liberal, but liberal white people are, what’s the word? Lame. Fuckin’ lame.
I dunno if I’ll be able to complete the shit I gotta get done and find a pastor who’ll give me a reference in time for August. That’s what I was hoping for, but it’s fallen back into the “it’ll take a miracle for that to happen” category, which is where this whole thing has really been all along now that I think of it. If God wants me in seminary this August, He’s gonna havta step in.
More than most anything, I just wanna hang out with my kid. I got to see ’em a week or so ago. I went over and we hung out by a lake for a while. I wanna take that one out to the woods for a weekend, just to hang out in a creek, sit around a campfire and talk about something or nothing.
The title is “Turtle” because I typed in a word expecting to change it later, but then I decided to just leave it.