Still hiding

I'm looking for work. Obviously. And in that search, I found a site looking for writers to write about faith. I applied, was accepted and told to pitch some ideas. I pitched 10. That is how excited I was. One pitch was accepted, an article that examined women, abuse and faith. I interviewed, researched and wrote and sent it back to the editor. "Good," he said. "But what authority do the women have to make these claims?"

I was confused. I wrote him back explaining their experience and their credentials. Fine, he said. "But why do you state that Christianity perpetuated their abuse?" I pointed out the grammar, it wasn't a statement, just a question. I pointed to my sources who ask the same question, to the testimony of the women who too had asked that same question. I offered to tweak the wording. But it wasn't good enough. After a 15 minute phone call, he blurted, "This is irresponsible of you and it's irresponsible writing!"

To which I calmly replied. "You are part of the problem. I never want to write for your publication." And hung up.

A week later, the story was accepted for publication at another magazine.

I sent the link to the editor who questioned the article's responsibility. I didn't comment, just sent the link, to which he replied: "It's ashame [sic] that this didn't work out with [name removed]. I wish you luck Lyz, though I must say that your comment during our last conversation that "people like [me] are part of the problem in the church" was entirely uncalled for and shows an incredible ignorance of who I am and the editing/writing I've been doing for over 10 years. I certainly hope that in any future editorial relationships you might have that you're able to display more maturity and professionalism than you've shown here."

I think I am going to print that out and frame it. Because, never in my life have I done anything more professional than hanging up on that editor. And that means a lot coming from me, the eschewer of the pants suit. I am not airing all of this to display how horrible that editor was or to suggest we attack his house with pitchforks. Rather, to say that I think this is an unexamined issue in a lot of our lives and we all think we are good people. Even the pastors in the story I wrote, thought that their behavior was exemplary as they sent the women back to their abusive husbands. And isn't that the problem? The harm we perpetuate in the name of "good."

I think anything I say about this topic is going to sound preachy or shallow. But I want you to know how real this is for me. How closely the pain experience by these women is wrapped into how I have seen the world. I taped each interview. And I had to listen to them over an over, transcribing them. The woman Suzanne, who still fears for her life, was the hardest to transcribe because of her voice, cracked and ruined by chemo treatments. One woman I couldn't even name, because she is so close, and so dear and still hiding. But more important than me is the stories of each of these women.

Please read it, please pass it along.

Here are the first two paragraphs:

I can't tell you her name or how I know her. This is because she is still living with her husband despite years of emotional and physical abuse. He's cheated on her and cleaned out their bank account to spend on drugs, pornography and online gambling. She left him briefly after a young girl accused her husband of molestation, but she went back to him after a week. Why? I asked her.

She told me that a woman spoke at their church a couple weeks before. The speaker explained how her husband used to be violent, but she didn't leave him because she knew that God's plan for a marriage was that it should last forever. Once, the husband's violence put their baby in the hospital. When he saw what he'd done, he repented and was never violent again.

"That's why I went back," the woman told me. "What if it doesn't end?" I asked. But the woman didn't answer. The conversation was over.