Chapter 4 ~DESCENT~

I titled this chapter “descent” because we’re getting to the stage in my story where things began to go downhill.
We left off with me as a 9 year old, just setting out on my journey as a Christian. When I was around this age, some big changes occurred at the ministry my parents worked at. As I said before, there were many, many rules within this place, and the standards set by the pastor were expected to be upheld by everyone–program kids, students, staff, staff kids…everyone. I’ll try to list some of these rules.
Within the program (The year-long program that troubled teenagers voluntarily signed themselves into) there was a system of levels. From the bottom to the top, they went No Level, A, C, E, PC (which stood for “Pastor’s Club…gag.) PCM (Pastor’s Club Monitor) Junior Staff, and finally Senior Staff. When a teen entered the program, they came in on C level. If they broke rules or got into trouble, they would get written up by a staff person. Staff people at this place had all kinds of jobs…some worked maintenance, some worked in the offices, some taught music, some were school teachers…but every staff person was required to work at least one dorm shift, where they would be working alongside the program kids. If any staff person, at any time, saw a rule be broken, they would fill out a “write up” on the program kid and these write ups would all be read aloud every morning after chapel services in front of EVERYONE. So in essence, if you did something wrong, it would be loudly proclaimed in front of every kid, every teen, every staff member, and they were read by none other than the pastor himself. He would then dole out punishments publicly. If you got into trouble, your level would drop. If you hit No Level, you’d be given a certain amount of time that you were on that level…usually a week or two. The punishment of No Level was that you hauled wood. On both sides of the campus there were big piles of wood, with small to medium-sized logs. “No Level” kids would have to walk in circles, once carrying a log, drop the log, walk around the circle again without the log, pick the up log, repeat….from 5:00-6:00 each morning, and from 6:00-8:00 each night. They sat at their own “No Level Table” in the cafeteria for all meals, where they were monitored and couldn’t speak. Another punishment that involved hauling wood, but without having to be on No Level, was a 6-10. You guessed it, this meant that you walked in circles carrying your log from 6:00-10:00 every night.
Here are some rules the program revolved around. Regarding dress code: Each morning there was “Dress Check” where program teens checked with a staff member to make sure their clothes adhered to the rules. For girls, clothes needed to be baggy. As I said before, up until I was 8 or 9, girls and women were only allowed to wear skirts. Shirts could not be form fitting, and couldn’t come below three fingers from your collarbone. Skirts or dresses had to touch the ground when kneeling. No sleeveless shirts. No bare legs, always wear tights or nylons. No heels over 3 inches. Boys couldn’t wear untucked shirts. They also couldn’t have facial hair.
Regarding Boy-Girl relationships: NO! There was absolutely no contact allowed between program girls and program boys. They lived in separate dorms, ate on separate sides of the cafeteria, went to school in separate classrooms, and church and chapel were literally divided down the middle with boys in the front, and girls in the back.
Once you climbed the Levels System though, the possibility emerged for dating. Once you reached the level of PC, a program boy could ask for “Talking Permission” with a program girl. This was the first level where teens began to have staff-like responsibilities. When people wanted to start “talking”, the boy would have to go up to the front of the church where we had morning chapel and church services, get on one knee, and ask the pastor for Talking Permission. If the request was granted, that couple would be allowed to have 30 minutes per day to talk at lunchtime in the cafeteria. There was no other interaction allowed during the day. There was something called a “6-Inch Rule” that meant no couple could come within 6 inches of each other. No holding hands. No kissing. No hugging. No sitting closer than 6 inches. The next level of a relationship was “Dating Permission,”  This was usually only attainable if the couple had reached the level of Junior Staff. Usually, they had been in the program for close to a year, and took on most responsibilities of a staff member, just without being on payroll. Dating Permission was also requested by the boy, on his knee, in front of everyone. Dating Permission meant that you could sit together in church, chapel, and even go on occasional dates. EVERYTHING was chaperoned. Couples were never, ever allowed to be alone. Everything was seen by everyone. The pastor was the only one who could allow anyone to date, and he also made himself the one who could stop any relationship, at any time. If a guy or a girl got in trouble for something, they would be written up, have their offense read aloud to every staff and program kid, and many times, the pastor would give them a punishment in the form of taking away their Dating or Talking Permission with their significant other. He alone determined the amount of time they could no longer speak for.
WHEW. Thanks for hanging in there with me as I lay all of this groundwork. So much of my story wouldn’t make sense if you didn’t know how the program worked. Now, let me say that my story has nothing to do with the program itself. I know there are many other “boarding school” type programs out there that have similar rules and guidelines. And this program did help alot of kids. It taught responsibility, and also gave consequences for irresponsibility. Many kids who entered the program were very troubled, and had never even been taught how to make their bed, do school work or chores.
I have nothing to say really about the program itself, other than to explain the rules of it in detail. The story I am telling is of the ABUSE of staff families that came to work there, and who had hearts to help these troubled teenagers. When I was a little kid, I was kept comfortably separate from the program. I went to church and morning chapels with the other staff and program kids, but I went to school in a separate classroom just for us “staff kids.”
By the time I was 9 or 10, I was fully aware of all of the rules, even though alot of them didn’t really apply to me. Around this age though, I had my first example of seeing that although the pastor created all of these rules, he himself didn’t need to follow them. You see, many rules of the program began to bleed into the Staff. Unmarried staff couldn’t date each other without the pastor’s approval. Grown men and women who were staff members would have to go through Talking Permission to get to Dating Permission, abide by the 6-inch rule, and always be chaperoned. Every single rule of the PROGRAM applied 100% of the time to STAFF FAMILIES. Whether you were “on the clock” or in your own home.
I was around 10 years old when I learned that the pastor’s wife had left him. There were rumors galore, but nothing was really said about it to me. But this is the story from MY perspective. I was given the impression that she was not a good woman, not a good Christian, and had left our pastor all alone. There was “nothing he could do about it.” No one really asked any questions that I knew of. All of a sudden though, in a very short time period, the pastor had a new girlfriend. Again, no questions. They also seemed to be able to do whatever they wanted.
One day, around this time, the worst possible thing happened to my family. My dad was fired. I don’t remember alot, because I’m sure my parents tried to keep me happy and in the dark about alot that they were gong through. But I do clearly recall my mom and dad being in a state of desperation. From my past chapters, you’ll remember that we were constantly told that if we left this place, we would be out from under the safety of God’s will. If another staff family left, we were told stories of what they were going through out there in the “real world.” Stories that I and we all accepted as completely true (They got cancer…but only after leaving this place…people got divorces and ruined their families, children died, ect.) that I came to find out only in recent years, that it was all untrue.
Anyway, from my little kid’s perspective, all I knew was that the worst had happened. My dad got fired. He was so desperate to stay that he literally begged for his job back. I later discovered what had gotten him fired.
With the new arrival of a girlfriend for our pastor, everyone pretty much accepted it as a new reality, as if his wife had disappeared into thin air. He was still preaching and teaching, however, that it was sinful and wrong for any couple to be alone together..only bad things will come from allowing yourself to be tempted. This was why rules were put into place to keep everyone accountable. One night, my dad drove by the pastor’s house and saw that his new girlfriend’s car was in the driveway…he went in, and found them alone in the house. He had the nerve to tell the pastor that it wasn’t right to hold everyone to a standard that he himself was not living by.
Let me also say that I am confident that my father is the one and only true friend this pastor has ever had. My father loves God with all his heart, and has always wanted to serve Him with all his heart. He actually loved this man, and believed that this pastor was called by God. Conveniently, another thing we were all taught repeatedly in church, was that you don’t raise your hand against a man of God. My dad confronted the pastor with the intention of helping him see that he was creating a double standard.
Now, I don’t know what they were doing in there, and it doesn’t even matter. But there was alot of drama brewing amongst the staff. Our pastor was still married, had a new girlfriend, and there wasn’t much said from him about how the staff was to handle this. A few staff families left the ministry because they had begun to disagree with the pastor and felt that they couldn’t continue to live under his authority…regardless of how badly they wanted to stay and help the kids in the program. After my dad had the nerve to tell the pastor that what he was doing and how he was going about it was wrong, he gave my dad a letter telling him he was “terminated.” That word is one of the only clear memories I have from this whole episode. I remember hearing that my dad was terminated. It sounded awful. As a little kid, I wondered if this meant he would take everything we owned? We would get kicked out of the only house we had ever lived in as a family. (Remember, our home was owned by the ministry.) I would never see my friends again. And we would be out of God’s will. Since only the pastor could fire or “terminate” somebody, he was also the only person who could let us stay…out of the kindness of his heart, you see.
In the end, my father begged to keep his job, and we were allowed to stay. I share THIS particular story, not because I’m interested in airing anyone’s dirty laundry. I believe this incident produced two majors shifts in my family’s life. First, it showed my father and all of us who the boss was. It could not be my dad. It was pastor. He alone had the power to let us stay or make us go. It sewed seeds of resentment that we all probably didn’t even realize, in that, we had no strong figure to hold us together or fight for us. THIS WAS DONE REPEATEDLY in many. many staff families. Wives resented their husbands for not standing up to him, and kids resented their parents for letting another man parent them. (More to come on that later.) I don’t say this to make my dad or anyone else that lived through this feel bad. But this was a calculated approach to control families. To remove the authority of fathers and husbands. “Terminating” my dad showed us that no matter how noble our father’s efforts were, the pastor could reward us, or destroy us.
Secondly, I believe that incident put a target on my family’s back that would remain in place until the day we all finally left, decades later. If someone showed backbone to the pastor, they’d be fired. If they stayed, they were essentially on his “crap list.” Remember how each and every morning, the pastor would read “write ups” aloud to all his staff and program kids? Everyone knew everyone’s business, and staff were rewarded for writing kids up, but also telling on other staff people. This created an environment of intense paranoia within the staff families. If you were on his good list, not all of the rules applied to you. Couples he favored (including himself) could date with no chaperones. The rules began to shift. His girlfriend, who eventually became his next wife, wanted to be able to wear pants, so he changed the rules and we could all wear pants. Things like this added to the sense of confusion, because he had previously preached that it was morally wrong for a woman to wear pants. Then it suited him to change his mind, and we were taught something else. This is just one of a billion examples as to how religion was used to push an agenda. I am still unraveling spiritual “truths” to this day, that I now see where not Biblical, but rather a rule made by a very human man.  As I entered my teenage years, the target would remain in place on my family, and despite being one of the few “founding families” and one of the most faithful families, we would also be the object of some of the worst abuse.
I know this is getting very long, so I’m going to have to leave you in suspense for the disaster of my teen years…until next time. I’m sorry if this was a tedious chapter, but it is also key. It is further setting the stage for how my family was treated and the psychological and spiritual trauma that would play itself out as I entered the most delicate stage of anyone’s life…the teenage years. As I got older, my family would splinter apart, and I would would descend further into valleys of confusion, self hatred, and near ruin. Oftentimes, to reach the mountaintop, you must first go through the deepest, darkest valleys where all hope seems lost….and that’s where I will meet you next time.