Oh, I was TERRIBLE. I threw crying fits, "I love you, I don't want you to go to Hell!" wrapping my arms around my miliant-atheist socialist father. They were so generous and open-minded; they were more than willing to get up early on Sunday to drop me off at the church and pick me up afterward (Appalachian public school peer-pressure). But honestly, if I saw that version of me now ringing the doorbell, I"d turn off the stereo and pretend I wasn't home.
I grew up in SUCH an isolated rural environment, but you could only spend so much time there and not notice the graveyard, and not notice how many women died in their teens and 20s. Or have exposure to classmates' parents who died in car wrecks, or hear handed-down stories about WWII (my grandfather, for one) or WWI (my great-grandfather, who lived til I was 14) or even the Civil War, or whispers about alcoholic street-people uncles, or, it goes on and on...and geez, I had my first whispered-about rape-victim peer in 6th grade. (And *that* happened to me about a year later).
I just don't believe in it. This is country of people with one hand in their pants and the other on their guns, and you have to be kind of mentally disabled to not catch on to that in elementary school.
no subject
I grew up in SUCH an isolated rural environment, but you could only spend so much time there and not notice the graveyard, and not notice how many women died in their teens and 20s. Or have exposure to classmates' parents who died in car wrecks, or hear handed-down stories about WWII (my grandfather, for one) or WWI (my great-grandfather, who lived til I was 14) or even the Civil War, or whispers about alcoholic street-people uncles, or, it goes on and on...and geez, I had my first whispered-about rape-victim peer in 6th grade. (And *that* happened to me about a year later).
I just don't believe in it. This is country of people with one hand in their pants and the other on their guns, and you have to be kind of mentally disabled to not catch on to that in elementary school.