A Whim of Wheels

A club at my university does an annual event to raise awareness of physical disabilities. I wanted to participate last year but was unable to because of my schedule. This year I opted to experience a couple hours in a wheelchair for their study and to promote campus awareness. One disappointment was that it seemed like such a small effort for me, but I was proven wrong by the challenge and BYU students.

I knew BYU campus was fairly wheelchair accessible because I try to ride my bike around a lot. I knew how I could get to every building, but I quickly realized that I did not know the fastest ways. And some ways seemed dangerous. Long, steep hills are on almost every side of campus. Some elevators are accessible but not convenient. Using the bathroom is terrifying. It is so hard to get in and out. And I do not know if I could put on my pants without control of my legs (I am greatly impressed by others). The hardest feature of any building or landscape was slanted walkways. Even a slight slope to the left or right made traveling very slow and cumbersome. If you push a wheelchair along a sidewalk that is not flat then you drift to one side if you try to go straight. So, to go straight, you have to either only push one wheel or constantly slow down to turn opposite the way you are drifting. It was annoying when sidewalks were not flat. It was frustrating when the floors inside buildings were not flat. They were constructed! Why would they slope?

I do not know how many students knew that demonstrations were going on today. They do happen annually. But there are a fair number of students who have permanent disabilities. And why would anyone assume that I was just rolling around for fun. I received a lot more smiles from people through the day. I was surprised by how often people would try to dart in front of me, forcing me to stop. People that were texting rarely saw me. I had to constantly be on the vigil for those bumbling booby traps. And cars were scary. I do not know if they could not see me as I crossed the road or just did not care. I ran into several friends who were very concerned about me, which was nice. They also became interested in the event so I suppose I fulfilled my role. The highlights of people's reactions were definitely the girl who held two doors open for me. She was the only one how tried to help me at all. And then I had to fill out some paperwork for a job. One of the supervisors came in and started talking to me. Right before I left, she asked if I had come in before and met the boss. She then said that she did not know how to be tactful about it, but she had to know the limits of my disability. I thought it was rather tactful and obviously did not bother me, but I was glad that she was comfortable enough with the situation to ask then instead of passing off a potential trial to someone else.

It was a good experience. I assumed it would be difficult for a wheelchair-bound student to attend BYU, but it was not as bad as I thought it would be, as long as he or she stayed on campus. Traveling off campus would be a nightmare. I would probably require assistance traveling to and from campus. Which would also mean constantly caring everything I would need for the day with me. It would be a constant trial. I assume friends would seek to help me more, but only a stranger offered any help. What it really means is I should look out for what I could do.

Final Bellwether

This was a magnificent experience. Tamarra is amazing. She is a very talented and encouraging editor; it comes from her incredible writing. This is the final edit of my article written last month. I really like being able to see the development of the subject, audience, and style. And it is neat to see my own ideas better expressed with the help of others. Once again, I find myself more converted to the quality and consistency of good writing.

This I Believe
Spencer Campbell

“Persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent.”

I was first enticed to memorize the “Standard of Truth” by a Snickers bar when I was 14. At 22, I am still uncovering how deeply these words, and others like them, affect Mormon culture.

Powerful statements like this one, though once shouted in the face of violent persecution, seem – at least in the Provo student wards I’ve attended – to act as insurance that in the end we,  conservative Mormons, the embodiment of truth, will win.

To argue against that conservatism is not just some philosophical or religious debate to many Mormons; it is a personal attack on our identity and potential. It would be like telling an Israeli Jew they should give East Jerusalem back to  its Palestinian inhabitants, or telling a Muslim that Muhammad was not the last prophet. We, as people, simply take offense when our concepts of eternal laws, rights, or prophecies are disagreed with.

I lived in California for a couple years and was often reminded of the financial and physical efforts the church put forth to defeat Proposition 8. Our strength and unity is infamous within some circles. It is as the Standard of Truth states: “no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing.” The unhallowed, the unholy, the hateful, the spiteful will never have power to stop the herd. But there is a difference, I believe, between what is truly unholy and what many of us perceive to be unholy.

I love the joke that says, “Catholics say that the Pope cannot make mistakes, but they do not believe it. Mormons say their prophets can make mistakes, but they do not believe it.” We readily acknowledge that we have faults, so why are we so reluctant to identify specific problems? We have needed help to change our direction before: stricter adherence to the Word of Wisdom and diligence in tithing paying, for example. I realize neither of these examples were terribly “hard sayings,” but we, individually and collectively, have needed to be corrected. Yet this does not seem to cause us to ponder our future. We do not seem to sit back and give consistent, honest evaluation to the type of Mormonism we are living individually and collectively and what changes may move us closer to the core of our faith.

In Church we often talk about sheep and the Shepherd. However shepherds know sheep have a tendency to look for a leader among themselves—a practice I do not believe God discourages. A bellwether is a sheep chosen by the flock to initiate movement and direction. It is still within the herd, but the others trust it to lead, to think. We often simplify our lives by choosing areas where we can act more and think less. We assign ourselves bellwethers at work (bosses), in fashion (celebrities), and in entertainment (Oscars). This is not a bad thing: it feels good to trust and follow sometimes. So imagine the impact you could have by being a bellwether within the Church.

The bellwether still has to look, sound and smell like a sheep to fit in, but it does not have to think like the other sheep. Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, its possible to gently lead those in your own circle to the green pastures and living waters we read about in the scriptures, and do so by avoiding the pitfalls infesting elitist Mormonism and self-centered Mormon policies and politics.

If you disagree with Mormon policy or tradition, then imagine what you could do if you became a trusted bellwether within the flock, instead of aggressively, directly and openly opposing the Church and its members. You must remain humble about it. You must be doing it for the Lord Himself. And you must not think yourself above covenants. To be successful you must hold those closer than all other things.

In a way, I suppose I am encouraging you to be part of the Church, to make yourself accepted, so that you can have an influence -- a voice that matters.  As college students, we are the next generation of leaders and thinkers in the Church. We are not going to change doctrines -- those belong to God -- but we can change tradition. We can change perception.

So feel free to empower the women you meet (not just open doors for them), to exclaim your joy that you are saved by grace (not works), or love a gay (or lesbian or bisexual or straight or questioning) friend because they are just as good as people as the rest of us. We can make a difference in how the Church of Jesus Christ is accepted worldwide.

Just stay a while until you can help us because we need more colorful Mormons. And who knows, we might even herald in Zion.

Separate iff Equal

I believe that there is a divine power that wants us to become more advanced beings and accomplishes this by giving us responsibilities, abilities, and possibilities. In other words, I believe in God and that the situations we face are given to us so that we can become more like Him. We do this by learning about and understanding who He is. We do that by doing what He does. We can do that because we can have access to His power. We call it the priesthood, but I have trouble defining what that is.

When I hear "separate but equal" quoted in any context it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It is a too obvious reference to the opposition to the Civil Rights movement. It references racism. But I have heard it recently in reference as to why Mormon men have the priesthood but women do not. It is usually used along the lines of, "Men have the priesthood, but women bear children. We have separate but equal responsibilities in the family/home, in the community, and in the church." If you ever have the urge to use that phrase to explain anything to anyone (that is an American. I suppose it may not have the same guilt associated with it in other cultures. Probably) stop. Just say no. It will weaken your argument because people (at least my mind does) associate that phrase as a justification for unjust elitism. Your intentions may be good and your reasoning may be sound, but your audience will associate anything you say after "separate but equal" as bigotry.

What makes this situation terrible is that some things do have to be separate to be equal. I might try to defend that most things have to be separate if equal. If two things perform the exact same function in the same way and at the same rate, if they are equal, then they spread out. They inhibit each others potential and production by being too close. Think of two burger joints next to each other, neither receives as good of business. The gases that make up our air spread out until evenly dispersed. Economics encourage specialization so that people perform different functions and increase social production, because if everyone did the same job than we produce less as a whole. If two things are equal then they will perform best if separated. If two things are separated then they can be equal (without the force used in fictional dystopias for the same effect).

So, I am not arguing against the explanation that men hold the priesthood to make them as equally useful and purposeful to women. I only suggest that we avoid ever using the phrase "separate but equal." Try separate and equal or separate iff equal or come up with a creative and catchy phrase that can be shared to illuminate the need for people to perform different roles in close social settings, especially in a family or church.