JE #7

Before I came to UCLA, the way that I negotiated my religion with my history of oppression was that I went down the road of cultural Catholicism. I accepted the parts of Catholicism that made me feel closer to my culture, my history and my family. I rejected anything that had to do with the afterlife and sinning. I didn’t get to this point overnight, however. I think I started on this path when I was 10 years old. I remember the first time I outright began to question every aspect of Catholicism was when my mom tried to force me to go to confession. I wasn’t having it. The thought of having to tell some strange man about the “wrong” things I had done was not something I was comfortable with. I don’t remember how I told my parents that I didn’t believe anymore. What I do remember is that I would sit in catecismo, quietly questioning everything. I knew I could never get out of it.

A few years ago, my dad found out that a family friend who was heavily involved in the church we went to, had left the country. He was now living in Mexico. My dad said something about how this friend was sleeping with muchachas from the church. Later I looked up the church in the news and found that this wasn’t completely true. This friend was actually molesting underage boys. I remember my dad’s disbelief when I told him the facts. I remember he thought that this friend molesting boys was somehow worse than molesting girls. My dad’s misogyny and homophobia was a constant border for me growing up. I argued with him about these things all the time. These days, our relationship is much different. Ever since I left to UCLA, both my parents have more respect for the things I say. Our dynamic have transformed to have some level of respect between us over time.