I Went Into the Family Business

It was the most natural path forward

Photo by Monkey Business Images on Canva Pro

Note: The story of my faith journey, church trauma, and spiritual abuse is inextricably linked to the stories of my parents and sisters, but this is my story. Their experiences, memories, and hurt are separate from my own and I do not speak for them. Details are also their own and not mine to share, and so I keep the details where they matter only to my own experiences.

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When I was one year old, my dad left behind his job as a Director of Christian Education (DCE) at my parent’s church in southern California to take a teaching position at a Lutheran high school in the suburbs of Detroit.

It would get my parents closer to family and my father back in the classroom and closer to his goal of someday becoming a Lutheran elementary school principal.

For eight years he taught theology and drafting to the Lutheran high school students in Harper Woods. And while both of my parents were actively involved in our church, some of my fondest childhood memories are of visiting Dad at school and going to faculty events. I ran under the bleachers at football and basketball games with the other faculty members’ kids, enduring the “Awes” of teenage girls who are inevitably drawn to their teachers’ children, regardless of how they feel about the teacher.

As a result, my first career goal was to be a teacher. When we went back to California the summer I turned nine and a few weeks before we moved to Illinois, I determined that I would return to the land of my birth by attending college at Concordia Irvine. I wasn’t sure that I still wanted to be a teacher, but I knew my future had to involve going to school in California.

There were some changes to my aspirations over the years. My junior high admiration for our youth leader and my love for my dad’s younger cousin convinced me that I should become a DCE. What better job could there be than serving God and hanging out with kids all day long? It sounded like a dream career.¹

And then my freshman year, I had Mr. Kennedy for English.

I had always loved reading. I had always considered writing a reasonable hobby. But I had never been challenged to think about what I was reading and writing. I had never discussed a book in common with others. I had never been encouraged to read outside of the popular series fiction pushed out to me and my peers. My academic world was turned upside down.

I loved Mr. Kennedy. For the first time ever, I had a teacher who wanted to know what I thought and challenged my classmates and me to think for ourselves.

Suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to be an English teacher. I wanted to be just like Mr. Kennedy. And when I made the connection that my favorite uncle had also served the world as a high school English teacher before he became a college English professor, I wanted to be just like him, too.

I never looked back. Unlike many of my peers, I had a plan and I was sticking to it. I had delusions of acting grandeur for a short time, but I eventually realized those dreams were futile. So if I couldn’t be an actress, I was going to be a high school English teacher and theater director. I would combine all of my passions into one and inspire the next generation to love English and the performing arts.²

And where would I do this preparation? At the same Concordia that my father had graduated from, of course. Although I was a public high school kid, I determined I would teach in a Lutheran high school. I could continue the legacy of service to the Church by teaching literature and writing in a Christian setting. After all, I had spent my formative years surrounded by Lutheran high school teachers and students. It felt like the natural path forward.