2010 Convention: Remain Subservient To A Book Publishing Corporation!

This was the theme of the 2010 DC of J-Dubs.

We went. We survived. We will never return!

Oy. Where do I begin? For starters, read the previous post here. It will give you a general idea of the reasoning behind going, who went, and what I expected to get out of it.

Preparing and Getting There...

I printed the songs that would be sung during the Sunday afternoon program so we could take part. I took my "New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures" and my "Neue-Welt-Übersetzung der Heiligen Schrift" (I went through a German phase as a young publisher. Different story), name badges and copies of the cover of the WT in the aforementioned blog as well as a copy of this to be distributed in the john:

This requires a lot of higher thinking skills on the part of a Witness, the kind that could only be captivated in the bathroom. Hence their convenient placement.

First of all, it was about 5 million degrees today. This is July in Georgia, after all. And not to be gross, but I sweat. I get warm if its a cool Fall day. During the Winter, I open my bedroom window to stay cool. There was no way in Gehenna I was going to don a suit for this thing.  And we'll get to this in a second, but why do brothers have to wear suits in the middle of summer, but hoochie-mama attire for the sisters has become acceptable? I would think Jehovah wouldn't want me sweating all over the place and subsequently stumble someone physically, spiritually or otherwise. At the very least he'd want me to be a comfortable Apostate. So I did wear a nice button down shirt and dress pants. My partner isn't afflicted with overactive sweat glands so he felt just fine (for a time) in a suit.

So here's the deal. We each had a part to play. He was better dressed so he played the part of the spiritually strong brother lugging along this curious, but not theocratically-attired new study. Not knowing what congregation to put, I just put down we were visitors from different areas. He was Brent, I was Jeff. These names came from a list of "actors" I found on Wikipedia.

I walked in while my patient companion parked the car. Keep in mind this is the afternoon session of the final day of the convention. I expected it to be crowded, but gee whiz! What a circus. Everyone was enjoying what few precious moments of time they could get before we all went in to watch the drama! Our original plan was to watch the drama and listen to the talk on why the GB of the JDubs is a good substitute for God Almighty and why their changing doctrines are not to be questioned. We walked around for a while trying to find seating...

Seating...

Although the arena was about 50-75% empty of actual humans during the lunch break, most seats were taken. In fact, we had an incredibly difficult time finding a seat. Seat-saving was in full force, with bags, bibles, magazines and programs clearly denoting people's seats. Out of all the attendants in each section, only two, TWO out of the entire upper arena, were really willing to help find us a seat, and then only if we sat separately amid rows of disgruntled JDubs casting disapproving glances our way that they should be so inconvenienced as to have to move a bag! They seemed to take one look at me, without my tie and jacket and "Vistitor" clearly marked on the name badge, and thought "You're late. Now you pay the price. Oh, and Jehovah's going to kill you. Have a nice day."  I sure as scheissen wasn't going to sit SEPARATELY. Building a paradise after the slaughter of billions of people is child's play in the Jehovah's Witness handbook-- but try getting them to provide two seats next to each other in an arena that seats 13,000 people! Its impossible.

Gosh! You'd think visitors from other states, especially newly interested visitors, would get more Christianly treatment.

And did I mention the crowd? To be honest, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between this crowd and a tractor-pull convention. Except that some of these people were dressed nicer. Some. Honestly, some of the sisters were dressed like tramps. Sorry. No words could describe it any better. Wanna dress in skimpy clothes? Fine. Frankly I could care less. But JDubs are supposed to be "different." And I refuse to believe that any of these folks are better than me simply because of their so-called modesty. It wasn't modest. I saw wardrobe malfunctions waiting to happen every time I turned around. Lace-up do-me pumps, tight skirts and ample bosoms about to explode from their stretched-to-the-limit hooker blouses. And I'M the one who got disapproving looks because I didn't have a piece of fabric choking the life out of me while suffocating in a jacket. The kids were running around, many unattended, and clearly disregarding the fact I'm their elder while simultaneously shoving me out of the way to get to their pre-ordained, bible-saved seat. Edit: In hindsight, I don't really blame the kids. How liberating it must be for them to get up and run around after sitting for hours on end at these boring things. And who knows what kinds of beatings they'd have gotten for being late to their seats! In fact, the more I think about, the more my heart just cries out for these kids who have no choice in the matter. I hope they can find the strength and fortitude to get through it sanely until the day comes when they, too, can be liberated from the Jehovah's Witness prison.

And the manners in general...As far as I can remember, the last time I was shoved this much in a crowd was after seeing "Miss Saigon" and walking out of the theater onto Times Square in New York 11 years ago. All in all, I'd say a tractor-pull would have been a step up and a heck of a lot less boring.

So we eventually gave up and sat outside the arena in the lobby area watching the drama unfold on closed-circuit televisions with other unlucky folks who couldn't find seating. And then the security stalking began...

Security!...Peace and Security!

There was Secret Service security detail with "Attendant" badges and mics/headphones--EVERYWHERE. It was very "big brother" and very surreal. Where were the mics and headphones when I was a Dub? A couple of them kept what felt like a looming close eye on us during the entire time we watched the drama on t.v. A couple more stalked back and forth like tigers getting ready to pounce on prey. Of course, they thought they were being sly about it. It unnerved my partner to no end. It made me slightly less uncomfortable, but my attitude was "Screw them. I've paid MY price to be here!" And if they wanted us to be more contained, perhaps they should've worked harder at finding us a seat!

Are we there yet?

After countless time searching for a seat unsuccessfully, half-heartedly singing one song and then listening to an indoctrination session (Drama) we were done. My partner was never so relieved as when I said "let's just go." Maybe it was Jehovah putting that thought in my heart so my apostate-ness wouldn't taint the sacred realm of the JDub insanity. Maybe.

Maybe it was the drama. It was just utterly ridiculous. Being on this side of it now, I can clearly hear all the cult-like psychological language spewing forth. It was disheartening to some extent because I still have family who are stuck in this mire. And I felt just awful for the kids. My partner did, too. He likened subjecting children to this with child abuse. I can't say I disagree one iota.

We dropped my "apostate" literature in the bathrooms, on the sinks and sticking out of toilet seat cover dispensers, and then made our way to the exit where, if there is a God, He was waiting patiently for us on the other side. You see, God doesn't come where He isn't invited, and He sure as hell ain't gonna stay where He isn't welcome!

Sometime between the beginning of the drama and our none-too-quick exit, attendants had been posted at the exits sitting in chairs. One attendant for each set of doors, facing inward. So we got the full-on stare as we walked toward the exits, quite obviously the only people brave enough to leave EARLY (Jehovah forbid!) and before the rousing 25 minute closing prayer. Between the glaring brothers and us was also a long line of meter high contribution boxes accompanied by smiling sisters. Everyone was evidently ready for the mass exit after the closing prayer. Drop your dollar for Jesus before you go, and if you leave early, endure the stares of disapproving Christians whose fate doesn't include falling into a chasm in the earth with a car on the day of Armageddon.

On a high note, we took a couple pictures. During the drama I pulled out a couple good books to pass the time... BTW, I'm blurred because I still have family in the cult. And this tiny little blog means I'm an APOSTATE whose family will never speak to him again if they read it and figure out its me.

"Out of the Cocoon: A Young Woman's Courageous
Flight From the Grip of a Religious Cult"
by Brenda Lee

"I'm Perfect, You're Doomed:
Tales From a Jehovah's Witness Upbringing"
by Kyria Abrahams

I just want to take a second to acknowledge these two authors, for they have contributed to my recovery from the Jehovah's Witnesses in very positive ways.

The convention badge IS NOT part of the book! I just enjoy irony. These are must-reads! The fact I could whip them out during the convention just made it that much more sweet.

Part of the idea for this little venture came from Brenda Lee, author of "Out of the Cocoon: A Young Woman's Courageous Flight From the Grip of a Religious Cult." You can read about her adventure here. Select the article, "Attending the Spiritual Famine."

The authors of these two books have been instrumental in my recovery, and I thank them for that! For anyone leaving or thinking of leaving the Organization, take some time to read their stories. 

Brenda's book is available in limited, autographed supplies here:

http://www.outofthecocoon.net

Kyria has autographed copies of her book available here:

http://www.etsy.com/shop/kyrialydia

So What Did We Learn?

1) My partner understands and appreciates a little more what I lived with for 16 years before getting up the courage and gumption to leave the Witnesses. And it took less than an hour for him to see right through all their monkey business.

2) This step was instrumental in my recovery. For anyone willing to take such a huge step in their own recovery, all I can say is you have nothing to be afraid of at all. Get well, recover, and then if you're up to it, see what it sounds like from the perspective of true sanity and reasoning. And much like Rose from "Titanic" when she drops the necklace in the ocean as a final farewell, I could have gone back to my room and DIED. Of boredom.

3) We left when we wanted. Which was none too soon. FREEDOM!!

4) See #2.

5 and 6) The song and drama were not just as good as expected, they were worse. Like a fine vinegar, what the JDubs are peddling has only gotten smellier and worse with age.

And that, my friends, is the Good News indeed.