Could anything have been more embarrassing? You could be at the door of the least popular munger in school, but overwhelmed with envy because, hey, at least he was doing something normal. In 8th grade, at the peak of childhood self-consciousness, I knocked on the door of a super popular, rich, "in" kid from my class and he answered the door. It was a nightmare made real. One of my top three fears, just between burning to death and being force fed bleach. Our territory had several towns outside my school district. Stress levels were directly related to how far from my school we would be. Guys, remember walking into a perfectly casual local diner mysteriously dressed up, accompanied by a ragtag group of similarly dressed up senior citizens, children, and general mouth breathers with whom you have some unknown, yet observable, connection, then having the waitress turn out to be the girl you would ask out if you were allowed to date? Maybe the Brother Reaching Out prays over the muffins for the group?, topping it off by leaving a 2 month old "Awake!" for a tip? Sound familiar? I'd like to hear anyone else's horror stories.
Knocking on the Doors of Classmates out in service
You don't need a horror story to reply.
I love this topic, these type of types are the reason I enjoy posting here, to vent and discuss things you went through growing up in this religion.
Besides have a great fear of dogs when I was young, I remember during my 8th grade out twice where I saw classmates. One time it was early summer, school was still in session and our territory was right in the area of my school, I think I must have knocked on four people I went to school with, each time I was more horrified than the next. I tried to be detached, but it was hard memorizing the sermon in the first place and then talking to friends and people I rode the school bus with was even harder.
The one time that sticks out in my mind was working on a Saturday morning and I knock on the door of my "best friend" from school. She opened the door and I was shocked and I do mean shocked, I didn't say anything for about a minute and then I just said, "do you want to read these magazines?" and she was so nice and took them and then we talked about school and such. I was out with my step-mother who didn't make a big deal about it. But I remember walking from her house thinking, "one day, I won't have to do this".
Yeah, and can you imagine now how you would feel if they knocked your door and your kids actually started listening to some of their spiel?
And how you would feel knowing the child had been coaxed into going against their inner intuition and exposing themselves to peer group dysfunction?
Sucks everywhich way dontya think!
In fact why it sucks is because it sells the idea of giving up ones autonomy - everything it is to be who you are!
And didn't you just feel it?
It reminds me of how as an adult I would hate any idea of knocking a door of someone I knew from regular society! Like my life was a delusion to myself and that's the reality we got sold!
That was the first thing I hated about going out on the preach; and my stress levels would go up according to proximity to home neighbourhood also! By high school though, our entire territory covered my high school zone, so there was always a chance of seeing somebody from school. It didn't go away when I started working, because I was working in the inner city and even when going out in a friends territory there was a chance (small I knew, but not impossible, and that's all it took) that I would see somebody from work.
Not long after school I got the door of the most violent she-wolf bully from year 10. She was still a loser, still a bogan, has probably od'd since bereaving an assortment of illegits each fathered by a different maggot, and she was still able to make me feel like a doofus.
I remember the concerns and horrors well.
I was given a small amount of grace in that most of my school district was out of the kingdumb halls territory. My parents lived in a little pocket.
Oh my goodness this thread brings back those dreaded feelings!
I was not popular in school for obvious reasons and I was so petrified of calling on someone I knew from school. When they came to the door I was constantly trying to act casual, like I enjoyed what I was doing. Holding my head up high b/c I was going to survive the great tribulation and they weren't...(this thought makes me sick to this day that we were actually taught we were better than everyone else!). People always asked me why I was dressed so weird.
And then coffee time was always such a big production. A whole group of similarily dressed people piling into McDonalds or some stupid coffee shop. People would just stare, trying not to of course in the event some over zealous person from our group struck up a conversation with them...then we could count our time...
Looking back through adult eyes, I see how all these little moments, good or bad, contribute to who I am and the path that led to now. That constant fear and embarrassment had a huge effect on self-esteem then and surely has a ripple effect into the future. I compare it to what could have been. What if those Saturdays were spent on the school football team instead? Connecting with classmates and building confidence instead of tearing it out by the roots? Sigh. I am definitely glad that it ends with me though. No child of mine will ever go through the same thing.
Oh how I hated having to stand on the street corner with W&A mags and have my class mates come by. Gawd that was motivation to ask even more questions to get the wrath of cong churning! carmel
It was purely awful. I died a thousand deaths. Every door we knocked on, I held my breath that it wouldn't be opened by someone I knew. My worst fear came true one day when we called on the house of the most popular, cutest guy in jr. high - he and his dad were digging their own pool in the back yard and we interrupted them. He never said a word to me later - probably embarrassed and of course I was a nobody in school anyway.
Talk about child abuse! I would seriously rather have been lashed with a whip than endure field service as an adolescent. I'm sure that it caused some permanent psychological damage.