Ta-Da!!! That was me in December, wearing pants to my LDS services. Here's how it went down:
-I got dressed. I felt strong and scared at the same time.
-I had my daughter take this photo.
-My girls didn't have nice enough pants to wear to church, nor anything purple. And Erik didn't have a purple tie. But my whole family told me that I looked great. I don't think they saw it as a big deal, honestly, and wouldn't have known I was nervous (or understood why) if I hadn't told them I was. I wanted them to know that I do scary stuff too, as I require them to do (working out hurt feelings with a friend, going to new schools in new countries, performing on stage, etc.).
-I told my kids I was going to play Sara Bareilles' song "Brave" on the organ as prelude music. I do love to mildly embarrass them in public, so I think Lucy was genuinely scared I would do it. :) (Of course I didn't.)
-We went to church. It was my Sunday to play the organ at the very front of the congregation, and I arrived early to play prelude music as usual. Only a couple of people saw me walk in, and they didn't show any visible reaction. Once I was seated on the bench playing beautiful, calming music I only had one choice left to make: stay at the front for the entire service (seated, where no one would see what I was wearing on my bottom half), or walk down to sit in the congregation with my family in between hymns. This would draw all eyes to me multiple times during the meeting. Usually if the organist's family is sitting close to the front, he or she will slip down off the stand to sit with them in between; if they're far back, he or she will just stay up there to avoid the long walk. I secretly prayed Erik and the kids would be late so they'd have to sit in the back, but nope, they came in on time and snagged a bench right in the front. I went back and forth in my mind until the very last moment... and at the last moment I heard in my mind "I WANNA SEE YOU BE BRAVE!!!" and walked quietly and confidently from the organ down the stairs and to my family. I got up and down twice more during the service, drawing all eyes to those revolutionary yards of wool on my legs.
-After Sacrament meeting I walked from the chapel to my Sunday School room. I realize as I write this that I normally would have just written "after Sacrament Meeting was Sunday School." The fact that I thought to write "I walked from the chapel" highlights how emotionally charged the walk was. I was inconspicuous when seated; public and vulnerable as I walked. Anyway, I entered the room, and my sweet 10 year-old students said, "Hey, you're wearing pants!" I smiled and said "I sure am!" And that was that. I had thought about emailing their parents ahead of time, knowing that some of them are ultra-conservative and might have worried about what I would teach them, but my sister wisely advised me to only answer questions if they were posed to me, and to not make assumptions about what people were thinking or feeling. That proved to be the best approach for me, and I didn't tell the kids why I was wearing pants because they didn't ask. It was a non-issue for them (I love children!).
-After church I drove my daughter's group of 12-year-olds to an Assisted Living Center so our church youth group (ages 12-18) could sing Christmas carols to the elderly people living there. This was the part I had been most nervous about the night before, but by the time I'd been at church for 3 hours I was quite comfortable (physically and emotionally). I don't know what the teenagers, with their perceptions of social normal more fixed than children's, were thinking when they saw me. I don't know what the adults were thinking either. Some people did a noticeable double-take (totally understandable - I would have too), but no one was rude or even awkward around me. We sang beautiful Christmas songs. I played the piano. I made the rounds and spoke to people afterward.
And so there you have it. Several of my friends have told me privately that they want to wear pants but are too scared. Several of my friends have said they don't understand Pants to Church Sunday because they see women wear pants to church all the time. It depends where you live. It depends what your parents taught you. It depends how naturally sensitive you are to cultural norms. We attended church the following Sunday (not Pants to Church Sunday) in Los Altos, in the Bay Area, and as I walked in wearing a skirt, I noticed several women wearing dress pants very non-chalantly. That took the fear and anxiety right out of me, as I thought of pants as fabric and also pants as a symbol - each of us can only do what we feel in our hearts is right and makes sense for our lives. And each of us should do what we feel in our hearts is right and makes sense for our lives.
It will be a lot less scary next time!
Some women who inspired me to be brave that week: Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, and Lindsay Allebest.
