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The Mormons Are Coming

I had an odd reaction to The Mormons Are Coming, posted yesterday on Salon. This was the first time in a long time that I truly felt like an outsider to Mormonism. I felt as though I had never been Mormon. I looked with outsider’s eyes at the peculiar things Mormons do and sensed the otherness that is such a part of being Mormon.

The article brought up old memories of what it was like to be a Mormon child. Somehow the article connected me to memories of being embarrassed to be Mormon. When I was a child, I remember looking around at the faces in sacrament meeting thinking “These really are peculiar people.” I sensed that being Mormon meant that I was strange.

I was an outsider with strange ideas. The gentiles would question me about why I didn’t drink soda, swear, or play on Sundays. I sympathized with the gentiles because Mormon ideas seemed a bit strange to me too. Yet I was Mormon, so I stuck up for those ideas.

Today as I read the article, I remembered that same feeling of peculiarity. I felt the kind of shame in the pit of my stomach like I had been left out of the others’ games and jokes, like I was outside the group. I felt the pain of being different. I finally understood why some call being Mormon an ethnicity.

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