The Fool's Resignation

11/12/24

Why do we write?

We write these characters to form sentences of words, simply to extend one small part of our minds into the world. We take something mental and make it physical; our words become the skin for a new kind of creature full of life and meaning. Our characters become characters.

We write to tell a story.

I debated long and hard whether or not to send this email at all, whether to make the characters and tell the stories or to leave it blank. If thousands of years of human development led to the written language, it feels almost disrespectful not to use it just because I was afraid of what someone else might say.

I am writing this email to inform. I write to put another chapter of my story out into the minds of others. That's what writing is: preserving ideas so others can read them. A person's ideas are only as good as their ability to convey them; thus, I must convey. I write this email not for pity, nor reaction, nor response. I write it because I respect all of those reading enough that I feel they deserve to know what happened.

Just after I sent out my email last week, my companion and I got a message from the bishop. He told us that we needed to come in for a meeting with him on Wednesday at 6:30, 15 minutes after Institute started. The email was addressed to Elders and Sisters, so I assumed that meant the Champlain trio would accompany as well. I also figured the zone leaders would be present at this meeting. We finished Monday and I assumed we would be headed to the activity that night. Companion said that it wouldn't be a good idea and that we probably should not go. I trusted his judgment but voiced my concern. We didn't go, and stayed in the apartment afterwards. I felt annoyed that we couldn't go because of some anti-problem that was being played up into some dramatic issue. We kind of heard more information about who might've passed information along and who might've been part of the problem, but just usual gossip stuff that comes with things like this.

Tuesday came and went. We had a phone call where my companion did not give me a chance to talk and then said "sorry, I forgot about you". I was annoyed but I suggested we continue our street contacting so that I didn't have to sit with my feelings of annoyance.

Wednesday was the day. I woke up as usual and told myself, "This is it. This is where I see the character of those around me and the leadership that I am under." I spent the day doing what I usually did: finding, texting contacts, etc. I was excited to finally go back to normal activities, starting with Institute. Eventually, 6:15 rolled around and we headed over to the church building. Doing what we normally do, we went into the small kitchen connected to the gym to see if the senior missionaries needed any help getting food ready. Elder and Sister Z are from St. George. They are neighbors with some of my family members, and I like them quite a bit.

Companion and I started talking with them. I asked how their week was. They said it had been a pretty hard week. Then, they said that in light of recent events, it might not be a good idea for us to eat the food and sit with the ward members. I was a little confused, but went with it. Sister Z asked Elder Z what he thought about it, and he said "We just want people to come eat our food, so we want you to make some plates, but it probably isn't a good idea." They said they wished someone would have told them a meeting like this was happening, because they had no idea. They said that they would have liked to have been a part of it so that they could hear what the problem was. All very odd. We weren't allowed to even interact with the ward members that we had hardly spoken to since we arrived.

The air felt odd as we moved to the foyer. Something felt strange. The sister missionaries arrived and I kind of mentioned how weird everything was. They said they didn't know what was happening either. The bishop kind of wandered over and said that we'd wait for the zone leaders in the kind of tone that dads use right before you get in trouble. That was the first indicator that something was wrong. Eventually, the zone leaders arrived and we moved into the bishop's office.

He closed the door and sat down. We didn't start with a prayer or anything. He said that he was calling this meeting because never in his time as a stake president or bishop has he ever had such a problem with missionaries. He was upset. He was almost yelling, but just a step below it. I will write what was said, and then my thoughts.

He started with the numbers he had just received on missionary work. He said something had happened in the last month (while staring at me) that has caused a significant drop in missionary work. He said that we had caused a problem with members and that they hardly knew us. We were supposed to be "earning their trust, taking them out for juice," and getting to know them. He opened to a part of Preach My Gospel and said it says "to ask ourselves if we are being a blessing to local leaders. Right now, you're not!" while staring directly at me. He then moved to a section of Preach My Gospel that talked about being professional. He chewed out the Sisters for not replying to his text stating that this meeting would be happening. He said that in his mission, they never would have been allowed to show up at a dance. "There is music playing, for crying out loud!" "You should never have been there, and you should never have been doing any sort of dancing!" "The Macarena? Are you kidding me?" "With costumes, nonetheless!" Sister B tried to defend her dancing a little bit. Sister J apologized and kind of tried to suck up to get out with less damage. He said that the ward consisted of many returned missionaries, and that he had received 12 calls from ward members that what we were doing was inappropriate, staring at me. He said they didn't go to the dance to chaperone, but that they probably should have. He said it didn't even occur to him that he should check the rooms, because his "worst nightmare was to find one of [us] making out with a member!" He said that we were officially uninvited from all activities and ward council and that we needed to work harder to earn the members' trust. He said one of the worst things that happened was that someone showed up to sacrament meeting and that the missionaries weren't there to greet them, so two members started talking to them. He said, "Instead of thinking, 'let's refer them to the missionaries', they thought, 'nah, we'll do it ourselves', and they sat with them in sacrament meeting! This is not acceptable!" He asked if we thought he was wrong, and what we had to say for ourselves. Everyone sat in a stunned silence. I spoke up. I asked what he thought we were trying to do by attending the dance. I said we had tried many different ways to befriend the ward members but nobody wanted to talk to us. I said that the reason I was teaching new members how to dance and laughing with them was because they looked pretty miserable and that nobody was talking to them. I said "that's why we show up to Institute and wanted to go to the dance, because we haven't got a chance to go to any other activities." He said, "Elder Ott, I don't know. Talk to Joe (the Elders Quorum president)." I said we've tried. They won't reach out to us and aren't providing any kind of support. He ignored me. He then said that his other issue was that someone (again, staring right at me) had been overheard talking down to Sister Z, and that he had received 2 reports of that. He said that "when I hear of someone disrespecting our senior missionaries (staring at me), I kind of lose it. That's just not okay." He continued with fairly non-specific issues and how much of a problem the missionaries were and that he couldn't compare missions and that he'd never had a problem like this before. He continued to reference that "something had changed," all while staring at me. He then said "Sisters, you're excused. You may leave. You two (pointing at me and Companion) need to stay." After the sisters left, the zone leaders said, "do you want us to go too?" He replied "No, we need witnesses for things like this." My alarm bells and red flags fired pretty fast.

I will interrupt the narrative to give my sporadic thoughts up to this point.

Something had happened in the last month. School started. For a bunch of college kids, that makes meetings and contacts incredibly difficult. This bishop had been bishop for less than one calendar year, so he wouldn't know that. He said he knew about school, but he couldn't have known how drastic of an effect it was. I had been friendly and kind to those who seemed to have nobody at activities, the people excluded from the cliques (cliques that included the bishop's two children) sitting by themselves. With what money was I supposed to take them out for juice? Theirs? They have none. We have none. We can barely afford to feed ourselves. Was I a blessing to local leaders? It isn't about the local leaders. It is about the people who need help. When local leaders start doing things that aren't okay, do I support them, or the people that need me? Easy choice. He didn't ask the Sisters if they could make it to the meeting. There was no question. It was a demand that there would be a meeting at a time that fit in his schedule to prevent us from going to Institute. Music? At a dance? We might as well burn in hell now and get it over with. I think Jesus probably smiled at happy events. I doubt he skipped weddings and gatherings. He probably even, if I dare say it, danced a little bit. I didn't think the robot, Footloose, Thriller, and the Macarena were inappropriate in any way. None of the people I had personally interacted with gave me that impression either. Making out with a member in a room was a stupid comment. Why else do we have companions? To prevent things like that from happening. Then, if they do, disciplinary action is taken. How were we supposed to become friends with members if we were banned from ward council and activities? How would we ever talk to them or get to know them in any way? I'm sorry that a couple of kids in the ward didn't do what was right and thought that they could be better missionaries for whatever nostalgic reason they thought of. That isn't my fault. Also, isn't that a good thing? I thought we were "supposed" to be "fellowshipping" people so that that could happen.We had lessons leading up to sacrament because that was the only time people could meet. When I raised my concerns, I got berated. Joe wasn't helpful. I talked to him and he blew me off and said nothing helpful. I never would have said anything disrespectful to Sister Z. I complimented her at the dance for leading the Thriller group dance because it was cool. Why was he treating this all as some kind of witch hunt, as if I were the witch? What was his deal? He didn't seem very concerned with helping the members or finding out our side of the story.

At this point, it is me, Companion, the bishop, and the two zone leaders. I'm pretty on edge and a bit upset about being treated the way that I was. I was upset by the way that this bishop was treating the other missionaries. Seemed like it wasn't his place to tell the missionaries what they weren't allowed to do and that this all should have gone immediately to the mission president for him to handle. The bishop should be supporting the missionaries, not tearing them down.

Opening words of the second part of the meeting, the bishop is turned directly facing me in the corner. "Elder Ott, I'm sorry to have been ripping on you like that, but this part is specifically about you." He started talking about how we weren't being effective and that I seemed to be causing a lot of issues. He said he couldn't figure out why in a ward with sisters that men would ever teach women. He said he had no idea why "men didn't only teach men, and women didn't only teach women." He said that would certainly have been the case in his mission. After continuing in non-specifics for some time, he raised his voice and was practically yelling. I just sat and stared at him. Just quiet enough to be below yelling he said, "Elder Ott, I received two reports, one from my 78 year old mother, that you were sitting far too close to a young lady in the back row in sacrament meeting."

What?

I was what?

I was sitting next to my companion and a friend we were teaching because she said that she was terrified to come to church because she had never done anything like that before and that she didn't want to go alone. She was going through a rough time and was pretty sad. I sat next to her and shared a hymnbook and asked about her life to take some pressure off because she seemed very scared and isolated. I was conscious of our seating and sat far closer to Companion than I was comfortable to give her more space. She wanted to sit in the back row because she was scared of the front. Also, what the freak was his 78 year old mother doing in the YSA? And why does she have her eyes locked on the missionaries? I had passed this friend along to the senior couple when it was time for Relief Society because everyone else had zipped off to their cliques before I could find someone to introduce her to.

The bishop continued to humiliate me in front of the other 3 missionaries. Not a single one of them stood up for me. Nobody said "who told you that?" Nobody said anything on my behalf. Not my companion, not the zone leaders. I just sat there and took it. I should have said something, honestly, but I was kind of too shocked to say anything. The bishop started getting onto us for parking sideways at activities. We had never done that. That was the zone leaders! They took no responsibility. They just watched us get in trouble for it. Companion said nothing, just apologized. Elder Tank (zone leader, with a moniker for anonymity) was the only one who had ever taken time to get to know me a little bit. He said "Elder Ott, there's no way you could have known any of that. I wouldn't have. You just gotta learn how to change for some things out here." The bishop turned around and said pleasantly, "Where are you Elders from?" going complete good cop for them.

I sat there quietly and waited for the meeting to end a few minutes later. I shook the bishop's hand while turning sideways (I should have just left) and walked out the door. I walked down the hall and out the building. I spoke to nobody. I walked past the class where they were having Institute. As soon as the door closed to the outside of the building, I yelled at nothing in particular and threw my missionary tag onto the ground. I yelled to Companion. I said "Take me back to the apartment now. I'm sick of this sh*t and I'm done being a missionary." Pardon my French. I never got to use it anyways.

I went back to our apartment and called my mom. She asked about what happened and we arranged for my grandparents to pick me up the following day. She suggested that out of respect for Sister Z, I send a potential apology anyways. I agreed that it was a good idea. I wrote a text explaining what I'd heard and that I was sorry if I caused her to feel less than in any way. I packed a suitcase that night.

I prayed. I prayed longer and more intently than I ever have. I said, "God, if you need me to stay here, I need you to tell me because this is it. I am done." I felt nothing. I felt absolutely nothing but anger and frustration. There was no calm. I decided that I probably wasn't in the best place to receive some sort of answer, and that I should probably sleep on this before making a decision. I told my grandparents to wait till tomorrow to come get me and what kind of time they would need to know my decision by. They said 7 am.

Companion told me he couldn't just sit there and say nothing and that he had to tell someone. I don't fault him for doing what he believed was right. I think he made a good choice by doing that. He called the assistants and had a long talk with them. He then told me that the mission president wanted to talk to me. I said I didn't really want to talk to him because he had never offered me any kind of support in the past. He said "okay, well president just said to tell you that they can get a flight for you tomorrow if you want." Figured as much. I said "no thanks, I got it figured out." I went to sleep praying the way I knew how.

I woke up and still felt mad. That was a pretty bad sign. Usually it's gone when I wake up, but it wasn't this time. I prayed again in the morning. Nothing. I felt nothing. I texted my grandparents to come and get me. I looked at my phone and saw that Sister Z had texted back. She said that those remarks had never happened, from me or another missionary, which meant someone just straight up lied or the bishop made something up.

The day went by pretty slowly. Companion said just about nothing all day. I packed all of my things into my three suitcases I had emptied just 6 weeks before. The mission president called again to tell me that there was a plane I could take the next day. I ignored him. We ended up at the public library, where I read a book that I really liked until 4:30, at which point we headed back to the church. On the way there, Companion said, "I don't know what I'm gonna do. Something feels wrong." I told him not to let me ruin his mission; if the pre-me part was good, then the rest probably would be too. I told him that if anyone tried to investigate him or try to send him home somehow to contact me, and that I would get them to let him stay.

We got to the church. The zone leaders pulled up and we loaded Companion's things into their car. Nobody really acted like anything was going on. They talked about how they were going to go get wings and that Companion could go with them and that it was gonna be awesome. Elder Tank said "don't abandon the church just because of some sucky things that happened" and that it was "the people, not the church". Sad that they thought that was what I was gonna do next. The Sisters showed up to say goodbye, but they were too scared of the zone leaders. I said goodbye to them after everyone else had left. I went to a hotel for a night then drove to my grandparents' house. My phone shut down completely when it connected to WiFi and deleted everything that I had on it. I got to my grandparents' and checked my messenger to find a message from Sister B asking if I knew if Companion liked her or not... good to hear somebody cared.

Being here has been weird. It feels like everyone who gives me any kind of side glance knows that I used to be a missionary even though they obviously don't. It feels a little bit like the floor has fallen out from beneath me. I don't really know what I believe right now, and I don't know that I ever did. Nothing that anyone says to me about what they know is true will help with that. No amount of testifying will help me figure it out. Life feels a little... shattered. But it's better because I don't feel like I sold myself out. I feel true to myself and feel like I am actually trying to figure things out, instead of just going through the motions. I believe in being kind. I am trying to do that. I tried to do that on my mission and was pretty ostracized for it.

All that being said, I don't feel like I'm in crisis. I don't feel like, "oh my gosh, my life has no point now," I just know that a mission wasn't it for me. Doesn't mean that the things I learned on my mission are now useless and I should reject everything. I wouldn't say that I'm struggling. I'm working through it. I feel like I am learning more about myself every day, more than a mission ever taught me to understand. I don't know exactly what I'll do next, but I trust myself enough to figure it out. I know that I'm capable. I am a little frustrated by the organizational structure of the church, but I wouldn't say that it is wrong. I'd still argue that it's true, as long as true isn't defined so black and white. I wouldn't say that it's all right and correct, but I wouldn't say it's all wrong. I feel betrayed, mad, and sad, but also peaceful, content, and true to myself.

I watched a movie today (straight to hell, I know) and the way that the situation was portrayed caught my attention. It portrayed pretty accurately how I felt and gave me more to think about. I won't say what movie right now, but it was good. I will discourse that movie at a later date with those interested. I have a lot of thoughts.

I don't know when I'm going back home yet. I am not a charity case, I don't need a billion emails about how you know God still loves me and that everything is gonna work out because of God's plan, etc. I don't need extra testimonies that the church is still true and not to give up on my beliefs because of x, y, or z. Those don't help people like me who are trying to understand what they're feeling. Yeah, I'm scared for the future. We all are, just for different reasons. I love talking about things with an open perspective. If that is what people want to do, I love doing it.

I want to keep writing these emails because I said I would. It feels like something I can do for people and I have heard that people like hearing what I have to say. Truth is uncomfortable and hard to hear, but we have this remarkable talent as human beings to entertain multiple beliefs and figure things out within ourselves. I'm not off on some road that will ruin my life and take away my sense of morality, so don't be tempted to believe that.

I am sorry that this email took so long; like I said, I wasn't sure whether to write it at all. If you wanna talk to me about any of what I said (or anything else), let me know. I'm always open these days.

Miss you all! Hopefully everything is well in your world. If you don't wanna keep getting these emails now that they aren't necessarily mission emails, let me know. I'll take you off the list and you don't have to read how I feel about things.

(also my younger siblings don't know yet so don't tell them, I'm surprising them later)

Sincerely,

Will Ott