Sunday, June 15, 2014

My Story, My Words, At Last.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CTTjLxXFg0k

How should I begin, but to truthfully say that I hold no regrets in any part of my past mistakes, both the good and the bad, and more so, I mean no ill-will to anyone who ever caused me harm.    For in the end, it helped shape me to who I am today, in a very real sense, what didn't kill me, made me stronger.

To start with, I must say, without placing blame that my childhood was troubled and wrought with some intense personal difficulties.. For whatever reason, both internal and external, I was always afraid to show my true inner feelings, out of fear of not being loved or accepted for who I really was.  Because of this, I spent all of my life bottling up my true feelings and identity, putting on a happy face, with the pain and anguish dwelling inside, at times bubbling to the surface only to be then punished for it.

In my awkward adolescent and teen years, I rebelled from my father's authoritative reign by trying the world of drugs and alcohol.  This escape proved to be futile in hiding from my deep, dark pain just waiting to get out.  So, then, at the tender age of 15, I began having feelings of depression with suicidal tendencies.  My parents briefly sought help and I was put on this new wonder drug, Prozac, to help squelch any negative UNWANTED emotions.  (However, in subsequent years, I have apologized to my parents for this, they have forgiven me as I have forgiven them.)

During my teen years, I was exposed to certain biblical scriptures that spoke of a true, unconditional love.  I knew I wanted that, whether from a man or a woman or from some other source.  I wholeheartedly believe that there are no accidents in life thus I can look back and see several guideposts leading me to my life in the Calvary World.  In college, my boyfriend dragged me to a Calvary Chapel in our town where I got 'saved', believing that at last I had found the absolute love and acceptance I had been seeking my whole life long.  For the most part, I look back at my time in the Oregon Calvary with utmost gratitude and fondness.  Those friends of mine truly represented the love and grace spoken by Jesus and tried to be authentic in their path he laid out.  It is for them that I have mostly stayed silent, out of shame for myself and for a need for their protection.  But now I can see that they would want to hear my story and like me would want the telling of it to help those who suffered or are suffering in a like fashion.

Things were different in the California Calvary than in Oregon, but not, seemingly, at first.  The indoctrination was gradual as up to that point my experience had been positive I only wished to see that world with rose-lined glasses.

However, the first aspect that didn't sit well with me is that we were strongly encouraged, or mandated, to attend services 7 days a week, on top of work, school, and other responsibilities in life, as well as take on as many ministries as possible all with a huge smile plastered on our faces, despite the overwhelming amount of stress that was building from such a heavy burden.

Another thing that was different from my OR experience was the lack of self and creative expression (we were told that "feelings were bad and not trustworthy, for example), and thus lost one's sense of own identity.  We were strongly dictated to lose ourselves for the good of the whole, to be like-minded and one with the group.  For a girl who had never had close ties with my own family, having this new "family" was somewhat refreshing.  But at what expense?  I recall one Thanksgiving the Pastor and his family invited all the church over to his house for the holiday.  When he invited me, I apologized that I couldn't and explained that lots of extended family were coming in from out of town.  He responded by unsuccessfully hiding his disappointment in me.  (There were other girls who experienced similar situations, where it was impressed upon them that their "blood" family was no longer their real family because they weren't "saved", that their family now was in the church.)

The literal explanation of the Bible is, I feel, becoming a form of abuse among the Calvary pastors and their associates.  I highly respect the text and see it as a valid "love letter."  I have come to see it as more metaphorical and a good use for individual spiritual growth.  I see Calvary's literal usage as becoming that of a weapon.

A year after I successfully left, I flipped on a Calvary radio station to listen to a pre-recorded Bible Study, the same I had so loved to listen to in previous years.  It had been awhile thus my mind had begun the process of being deprogrammed.  The first thing I realized was that the pastor used more of his personal beliefs than staying true to the scriptures, as they firmly state they do.  The next thing I realized is the usage of circular reasoning, rather speaking in segments of three, to get his viewpoint across, or rather a process of shaming.  For something unrelated to my life, I began to feel shame by his use of this technique.  I turned off the radio and immediately it hit me; this is mind-control.  Remembering past services I attended, I would often leave not remembering much for what was taught, but feeling "positive".  Yet the next day I could spout of word for word the Pastor's points without really knowing the biblical text.  It is as if at a Calvary service the parishioners are taken into a trance through the repetitive worship music and then taken through a process of indoctrination that without any outside perspective becomes hard to refute.

Several other strange viewpoints come to mind.  Such as college or further education outside the church was strongly not recommended and even looked down upon as non-spiritual.  In addition, from the pulpit, the Pastor would list, on numerous occasions, the various cults, even going so far as to call, like-minded conservative churches, as being wrong and "un-biblical".  Furthermore, while "fellowshipping" with these other churches, they were all smiles and acceptance but back in their own "building", the true bad-mouthing came out.  Unlike my experience in OR where we Calvary Chapelites often broke bread with other denominations, interfaith to California Calvarys meant other Calvarys.  More and more, I started to see this as false and started to see the underlying message that Calvary is the "one true church", the only one that is biblically accurate, and thus the only one that is right.  In addition, Pastors and other associates strongly advised the reading of only the Bible or books by Calvary authors or approved by them only.  Other books, even classics like Dickens or Shakespeare, were highly not recommended.  The arts, such as theatre and psychology, were seen as dark forces and demonic.  Yoga and meditation were seen as ways for the devil to gain a stronghold.

Furthermore,  we were taught that there is no good in us, no value apart from God, no telling right from wrong, and that our feelings, if not positive, were an attack from the devil.  We were also told that if any time was spent out of church services or bible studies we would be caught unawares, fall into devastating sin unable to resist, and our lives would become completely miserable, lonely, and unfruitful.  In short, God could not bless such blatant lack of obedience and rebellion.  I have since learned this to be greatly untrue.

Furthermore, we were instructed to give financially "until it hurts" and that God would bless us for it.  I never thought too much about this, until recent, but honestly I did give quite a lot more money to the church than what I brought in or felt bad when I couldn't, and never saw the fruit from it in myself.  The church, however, became prettier and prettier, not just the lights stayed on, but the furniture got nicer, the buildings were remodeled with all the latest technology, on and on.  Were the poor ever fed? Not sure.  But, we had cool Christian concerts and coffee shops!

Due to all of this, I lost my sense of self-worth and my ability to make decisions without fear of making a mistake.  I was constantly praying feverishly "help me with this, God," or "help me with that, God", or endlessly asking God's Will without answer, afraid to take a step of faith in fear.  I would ask for advice on this from the pastors and get vague answers or direction, sometimes I would be shamed for my lack of faith.  Then, back into confusion I would spiral.  In addition to this,  I was constantly pointing fingers, and having them pointed back at me, in judgment of others lack of spirituality.  An in-built competitiveness to out-spiritualize the other was rampant among the Calvary parishioners.

Lastly, before I go into my personal story, there was an element of sexual discrimination.  Women were the weaker vessel and thus unable to make sound decisions without the guidance of men.  On top of all of that, we were told to cover up completely, to the point of almost wearing a burka, lest we tempt the men.  It was then our fault if they fell into lustful sin.  For me, a well-endowed, curvaceous women who wearing any form of clothes becomes somewhat revealing, I was seen as a tempestuous vixen if ever I approached a man to even just say hi.  This left me with a feeling of shame over my body, which later contributed to my bout with anorexia and poor body image.

So, finally I come to my story of personal, spiritual and pastoral abuse.  A terminology only just introduced to me on a website speaking on similar matters a few months back.  I have mentioned my past history with depression.  The stress of being overly worked by the church plus my outside life led to a mental breakdown causing outbursts of rage and left me with a diagnosis of bipolar.  I do not blame any of my Calvary friends for this rage and recognize a great deal of them were victims.  However, I now see that the stress of all that was in my life, the years of pent-up emotion and abuse, and the effects of a gluten diet caused this anger eruption.  (After years of intensive recovery, I have finally forgiven myself for this.)

During this time, my pastor dutifully started ministering to me one on one.  At one point during a tremendous breakdown, after my boyfriend had broken up with me as well as the death of my favorite grandpa, while sobbing hysterically in his office, tears flowing finally years of repression coming out, and without the ability to speak through the pain, I went to him for prayer or counsel of some sort.  In that solitary session only between us, he said some rather disturbing and untrue things.  First, it was declaring that my tears were "phony" and "fake" and ploys of sympathy through manipulation.  Too upset was I to speak up so didn't.  Then, he said, "I have had other women who I have ministered to fall in love with me."  This was the most shockingly surprising statement and due to that I was unable to contradict.  After that, I actually wondered if I did have feelings for him, finding none.

The next week I pulled an abusive prank myself, part vengeance, that ended up in my being banned from the church ( a blessing in disguise).  It hit home and I began the slow process towards recovery.  Few years later, I was ready to honestly make my amends with those I had wronged, with no preconceived hopes about being brought back into the fold.  I made my official amends with the pastor through a voice-mail message.

After that, he did what I now realize to be mind-games.  We'd see each other around town, at Starbucks, for example, and he would be all smiles and laughs, interested in how my recovery was progressing.  I wasn't honestly hoping for anything more but was grateful for that restoration.  At other times, though, in the off-chance we'd run into each other at another church, for example, he'd show another colder side for reasons explainable to me.  At one time telling me that "he can't be my friend right now."  I took this to be somehow my fault, though searching my mind for some thing I did, finding none save for what I had repented for years back.  I was made to be the manipulator in the relationship, when in effect his push/pull, "come a little closer no go away" proved him to be the manipulative one.  He never admitted to this or apologized for it.  (I no longer expect it.)  Because of feeling like the victimizer, I thought that if I turned to anyone for help I would be manipulating them, so I stopped reaching out for help which left me feeling isolated.  I have found that in the case with abusers, finding a way to keep their victims isolated is a method at keeping them under their sway and power.

It took awhile for me to unravel the pain brought on by Calvary, to find healing through the most unlikely of sources, such as United Church of Christ, the Unity Church, other "cult" survivors, and most importantly my theatre family, both Christian and other, who when I shared my story assured me that that wasn't normal, right, or healthy.  I think the main reason I stayed so long, 7 years, in Calvary was coming from the background I had, I was used to an authoritative life-style.  It was what I was familiar with, albeit unhealthy and codependent, it was safe, in a sense.  I think that the main reason I was able to free myself was because of the many mentors and teachers that taught me critical thinking skills and the value of ongoing learning.

I believe that Calvary at its core is basically good and its origins were pure.  Its exactly like what my father used to quote to me as a child, "power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely" and I think that is the end result of Calvary.  When I read the scriptures now, I ask the spirit to show me the real meaning, not what was forced upon me, in effect a spiritual de-programming.  What has been revealed to me, by the Spirit, example is that the text that refers to the Pharisees is what Calvary leadership has begun.  Because of this, my experiences, and the definition of a cult below:

"a group or movement is theologically a cult if it identifies itself as belonging to a mainstream, recognized religion — and yet rejects or otherwise violates one or more of the central, essential teachings of that religion."

I now believe that Calvary Chapel is a cult and a strongly advice those who are thinking of attending not to start. 
 
By writing this, I mean no ill-will to anyone, nor is it anyway meant to sound vindictive or angry (that is why names are left out). I can assure all readers that I am not at all angry at what happened any more. As everything in my life, I find value in all my experiences. I still deeply love and appreciate all of the friends I met through Calvary and am grateful for what they taught me, and wish them nothing but happiness and the best that life can offer.

I am deeply grateful for my dear family and friends who stood patiently by through the mad "cult" years and after leaving still are right with me, despite my crazed "Christianese" ramblings during those years.  Their love and forgiveness and laughter has what helped me heal, become whole, and truly be the person I was meant to be.  Thank you!

I also hope that my story, my words helps others that are suffering inside Calvary or have recently left.  Above all, know you are not alone and that are others who are just like you, trying to make sense of a crazy experience.  I now know that I do not need to "save" anyone or "help them" out of this crazy situation, nor can I, but I do know one thing about the abuse I, and others, have experienced at Calvary Chapel, and that is that the light will overwhelm the darkness and all will be revealed in time.

This is my story in my words.  Some may not agree but I have only tried to be truthful, gracious, and restrain from any judgment to the best of my ability.  That's all I can ever do.  

About Calvary and my "cult" years, I say, in the words of Dorothy Gale: (changed a bit)

"I remember most of it wasn't very nice at all, but some of it was beautiful, but all the same, all I kept wanting was to be free...and than I found my freedom."





Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Working It Out---Facing Your Inner Demons Through Drama

I've been thinking abut this notion of method acting versus representational acting and the very fact is that I was trained in method acting.  Furthermore, it was easy for my teachers, mentors, method actors themselves, to train me in that fashion because I was already that time of person, one with emotional depth and transparency, an in-built method actress, as it were.  I'm not afraid to go to those scary places and in reality in need of using them, on the stage or in character-type work.

I understand the representational style of actors who do not see the point of 'dredging up the past' and do not disparage them their "method".  I can see their point about it being seemingly dangerous to rely on past psychological trauma, or what it may be.

But, in truth, for me, after years of intensive therapy and recovery, I am not afraid to examine the scary, painful parts of myself, and apply it to the character already present in the text.  Once I find those useful, self-resources, not only does it become a sense of self-discovery as I bring the "pain" or "issue", to physicality and "work it out through fear and trembling".  And, in that "working out", the issue becomes null and void, I find healing, freedom, and true salvation.  (Philippians 2:13)

This weekend I make my debut as a dancer at the Oak Street Studio's presentation of "Moment in Time".  I play a "demon" and get to wear a fun and not to scary African mask.  At first, I was focused more on the dance, however be it, mostly improvisational.  But, this week, my director, Roz Schrodt, started asking us to really define our characters.

Thinking of the idea of "living truthfully in the imaginary circumstances" and while spending time with my altar-ego, ie my mask, I discovered emotions primal welling up of me, those of rage and angry determination.  Through the aspect of physically dancing the character, my she-coyote became sexual in her quest for power, hiding her feelings of rage and fear.

Oak Street Studio presents "Moment in Time" this weekend, Saturday, June 14th at 8 pm and Sunday, June 15th at 2:00.  Tickets are ten dollars in advance or twelve dollars at the door.  Rosalind Schrodt is a local dancer and instructor in Ashland, OR.

https://www.facebook.com/events/698513416932452/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming


Monday, May 26, 2014

"When I was 11 years old, I said I wanted to be a famous actress when I grew up and I also said that I wanted to be called 'Lia'."

"Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you strove with God and with men, and prevailed."--Genesis 32:28-29

I recently watched a video on facebook of a young man transitioned from a woman speak about his transformation and noting that the girl he was would never have the life she had thought was hers to have.  It made me think of my own transformation over this past year.

When people that knew me before the change ask me why I changed my name, as if it was merely a few letters that changed and not a whole sense of self, I tell them this:

"When I was 11 years old, I said I wanted to be a famous actress when I grew up and I also said that I wanted to be called 'Lia'."

That seems to appease a few, others that have known me for years still truly can't comprehend, its those I give a pass.  Even when I explain to them that the Julia they knew was different than the Julia I felt inside, the former one more positive and the latter one more negative, still they can't truly understand and I am beginning to realize that is okay.  Because, ultimately the positive aspect they saw of me then was merely a small part of who I really am and allowing myself to fully become.  They saw that gem inside then and, in a very real sense, helped me to become who I was meant to be, even then, without my knowing it or wanting to admit it, to myself mostly.

Truly, I feel very akin to the transgender community, the idea of changing one's identity,  reinvention of self, based on who you really are on the inside, releasing yourself from the bondage of your past.  For me the girl, Julia, trapped in a world of oppression, of shoulds and should nots, the life of people-pleasing, codependencies, jealousies, competition, all that is released.

As Leah of the Bible, Jacob's first wife, gave birth to three male children with the dearest of hopes with each that at last her husband would love her before she finally surrendered to the realization that he would not and with Judah concluded that it was not man's love to endlessly seek out, and be ultimately denied, but the love of the divine, where true satisfaction and peace are found, so to, myself becoming Lia, I can rest in the knowledge in that love as well.

I need not fear the fact that I will pick up the mantle of jealousy, for example, nor do I have shame in that, as I realize I am still 'human' after all, and, in that, I find forgiveness of self for my weaknesses, in the past, present, and future.  Furthermore, in that forgiveness, I cannot allow those momentary afflictions of conscience to overpower me but can trust in the healing process, the life-long journey of recovery to truly become 'Lia'.

Truly, I am the 'Lia', or Leah, that realizes there is no need to endlessly secure the love of man, or the acceptance of people, or hope for that alone, but trust and be thankful for the blessings already given and will be given from the divine.

Ultimately, I am thankful for the love that is faithful, pure, and true always offering acceptance for who I really am, with open arms.

So, the Julia that was and that still is apart of me (and always will be) shall never have the life that she thought was hers to have, but through the sacrifice of what could have been, Lia will achieve all that is meant for her, her destiny, her dreams, of being the 'famous actress'.


"When I was 11 years old, I said I wanted to be a famous actress when I grew up and I also said that I wanted to be called 'Lia'."

Monday, April 28, 2014

Grace to a Fish

Hi, I'm Grace Woods.  I have lived on the earth 12 years old but at present I am well beyond that in years of maturity and understanding of life, both good and evil.  My mother named me Grace and she always said she is proud she did because I represent, in so many ways (even more so at present), the true definition of that word.

Here is how my story unfolds:

I am the youngest daughter of my parents, with one older brother who is 16.  I had a simple, care-free life, until recently, always having a great love for animals of all kind and also, in a way, the underdog.  I wanted to be a veterinarian when I grew up.  This is what led me to the man who came to our door looking for some yard work help.  The man's name was Albert Fish.  Because of the need I saw in this poor man, I convinced my mother to let me go with him.

On the way to his house, I was very excited and Albert seemed like such a warm, friendly fellow.  I was happy to know I was going to help him and knew in my heart I would try my best at that.  Along the way, he told me about the local plant-life and about the history of the area.  I, in turn, told him about my favorite movie stars, favorite music, and what I wanted to be when I grew up.

What happened when I got there was not what I had expected or wanted.  But, in the end, I think I accomplished my goal of helping him, even though it was not as I had planned.

See what happens tonight at the Playwright's Atelier at the Ashland Library at 6:30 pm.

Fish & Grace is based on a true story adapted into play form by an up and coming playright, Joshua Hendrickson.  The show also stars my good friend, Will Churchill, as Albert Fish.

The Call of The "Sirens"

Hi! My name is Lissa Adams, 20 years old.  I am a creative writing major at Southern Oregon University.  I recently completed a course of free-writing on addiction and recovery.  The teacher asked us to free-write based on some people we met that suffered through some form of addiction.  I found it interesting to write based on the perspective of my sister's best friend, Emily Jones, who suffered and overcame a gambling addiction.  Emily is 36 now but she was in her late twenties when her addiction began.

Here is her story:

I am Emily Jones and I am a compulsive gambler.  I got into gambling, on accident, as a drug to hide my insecurities and to have some form of power over my low self worth and image...but as I got more and more addicted, I lost control over my power to rule over it.

Once I admitted that I had a problem and began getting help, years of past trauma which caused the insecurities, as well as past pain, began to heal and dissipate.  I began to be and feel whole and complete.  I now feel comfortable with myself and honest with my addictions and weaknesses.  I now no how to fight it and how to remain healthy.

I realize that I didn't need to try and control what I couldn't because really there is no control or power...and in that at last I have peace.

Hi, its Lissa again!  Find out the rest of Emily's story and more about my class tonight at the Playwright's Atelier at the Ashland Library beginning at 6:30.

The Sirens' Tears is written by local playwright, Lyda Woods and includes other performers such as Maria Ciamaichelo and Lyda Woods.


Fighting for our "HOMS"


Hello! My name is Rasha and I am 16 years old living in Syria during a time of political unrest.  Because of family loss, I have become quite active of bringing justice and freedom to my country and my people, but especially bringing vengeance for my loved ones.

I am the youngest child with two older half brothers, but even though only 16 years of life, I feel very ancient from all the strife and suffering I have seen.  My eldest brother, Abbi, lives with his wife, Ummi, and their son, Tahu.  My second brother, Yousef, lives with me and our mutual mother.  Both of our fathers have been killed.  Because of this, Yousef is the man of the house and takes this role seriously, in his political activity he fights for our protection and freedom first and foremost.  However, in recent unrest, my mother was recently killed.

I am educated although unfortunately haven't been able to attend school for awhile due to the unsafety of current situations.  I try to stay abreast of my education in private quarters though.

Just yesterday, Yousef and I marched on the capital because of some arrests done of local school children, who were then abused.  Because of this, both he and I were arrested.  I was badly beaten and forced to look at other victims imprisoned.  I was released but told to protest no longer.  I immediately sought safety at my other brother's house, but I do not know the whereabouts of Yousef.

My own ambition at present is to ensure the safety of my brother, Yousef and the rest of my family.  My country's freedom is the last reason for continuing the fight.

Find out what happens to me tonight at the reading of this play, HOMS by local Ashland playwright, Joseph Suste at Playwrights' Atelier at the Ashland Library, beginning at 6:30 pm.

Other performers include Will Churchill, Maria Ciamaichelo, and Lyda Woods.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Tansy's Trek

...Or How I Found Myself...

My name is Tansy Mae Winters.  I am 15 years old and I live in the swampy backwoods of the Louisiana Bayou with the shadowy figure of Jacques Devereaux.  He has some secret past that he is hiding from, I pay no mind to this, after all don't we all have something to hide? He gives me place to live while I help run errands for him.

One day while exploring and playing in the Bayou with my bird, Marigold, I come across some outsiders.  At first, I am instantly fearful of being discovered, made fun of, or worse, rescued and put into a foster home.   I like my life the way it is because it is my choice to live this way, and with my past history of abuse, I'd rather make my own way.  (Ultimately, I'm afraid of change and being hurt, but aren't we all?)

But then I see Jason and have a Miranda experience, a la The Tempest, "O Brave New World that have such creatures in it'---

In fact, in a very real way, I am a mixture of Miranda and Caliban.  In a sense, most of the other characters see me as the latter but to Jason I am Miranda and that is all that matters.  To be fully seen as beautiful and special is what changes me and helps me to accept the person I am inside and meant to become.  Even, in a sense, my relationship with Jacques, albeit abusive at times, is a lot like that of Prospero and Miranda.

The other people that come into the Bayou for the trek and that I meet later on are Beau Douville, Karen Moore, Tina McCourt, and Bobby Robiere.  At first, I am scared of each of them, especially Tina because I am sure she will make fun of me.  Beau and Karen may decide they have this "pressing need" to rescue me, so that makes me weary.  Of all of them, Bobby seems the most benign and thus the most trustworthy.

Through the meeting of each of these people, I discover my equality with others and even though I appear different I can still be one of them, am like them, and can help them 'save the day'.  In the end, I find my own personal power and pursue my destiny.

After the trek comes to a close, not only do I stay together with Jason but Tina and I become friends and she helps me to fit better with society and I help her become more comfortable with her true self, not worried about the opinions or judgments of others.  For example, she helps me learn about hair-care and other beautifying tips and I open her eyes to a world outside herself, a world more focused on the spiritual not the temporal.

Even though Jason and I stay in the Bayou, like he says, we still spend a lot of time in the town.  We both enroll in the local high school and get part time jobs.  He starts working at a garage where he learns about the trade of being a mechanic.  I get a job at a drugstore and soda pop shop.  In addition, I get a tutor to help bring myself up to grade level.

We stay in touch with Bobby, who with Beau's help, finally gets to be on the football and track team.  Tina becomes my pen-pal and after graduation when I receive a full scholarship to NYU, the two of us become room-mates.

At NYU, I study literature and English and hope to become a writer.  My first novel is about my experiences living in the Bayou, with an absent mother, and life with the infamous Jacques Devereau. Later on, I attend graduate school and receive my Ph'D in English literature.

Jason and I initially break up when I leave for college but years later while in my first year as a professor, we reunite, fall back in love, and marry.  We now have one son and another on the way.

Trek of the Catahoola Kids is a radio play written and produced by Ruth Wire.  It is currently in production but will aired later this year on a local Jackson County radio station.  It is co-directed by Jonathan Pratt and Michael Meyer, with Joshua Hendrickson as assistant director.  The play also stars Michael Meyer as Jacques Devereau, Christopher Horton as Beau Douville, Ceara Hays as Karen Moore, Tim Kee as Jason Meredith, Krystal Brewer as Tina McCourt, Jesse Lawson as Bobby Robiere, Catherine Hansen as both Mrs. Meredith and Mrs. McCourt, and Joshua Hendrickson as Mr. Robiere and my bird, Marigold.