My Primary Responisbilities
As I mentioned briefly, I am serving in the Primary at church (for you non-mormonites, that's the organization in charge of the instruction of children in the Gospel). I've been mum about this very blog-worthy topic, because I wanted to give myself time to see what I thought about it with an open mind. You're wondering what I mean by that, I know: What's she saying? She hates primary?
No, I don't hate it, but honestly, when I became a member of the Church, my list of callings I did NOT want looked like this:
Callings I do NOT want:
-Primary teacher
-Primary President
-Nursery leader
-Primary
-Primary
-Primary
Ok, get it? Yeah, I don't like kids, but what I have come to realize by serving in Primary, kids are easy to please. In fact, teaching them is downright fun. I love seeing their little minds spinning when you say something like, "Can you believe the sons of Mosiah turned down being kings to go serve missions among the bloodthirsty Lamanites?" or seeing my class of 4 and 5 year-olds get excited about earning a bead each time they come up with something they're thankful for so that they could make a "thankful bracelet" in class. And nothing tops the time I was sitting on one of those itty-bitty chairs with the sunbeams to help wrangle a bunch of wily 3-year-olds, and the music leader had the sunbeams sing "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam." They were beside themselves with excitement, and when we got to the chorus, "Jesus wants me for a sun-beam!" they leapt up all around me, throwing their little hands in the air like sunbeams, shouting "BEAM!!!" Priceless.
The kids steal the show in Primary. I can say something like, "We're going to see who can hold on to the leg of their chair the entire time in Primary to demonstrate holding on to the iron rod," and the kids would think it was the best game ever. Today, when I was demonstrating weaving a rope using a bunch of pieces of yarn to represent pieces of our testimony like prayer and scripture-study, the kids actually asked to keep the yarn pieces, because they thought it was just so amazing to be able to hold a piece of yarn in Primary. Yeah, Yarn. Really truly.
No, sharing time (a 15 minute lesson someone in the Presidency gives each Sunday during Primary) doesn't phase me anymore, and I think I might even be able to handle music leader just fine if I actually knew the songs.
Then Today happened.
Oh today.
After today, I have finally figured out why women in the primary presidency always have this "deer in the headlights" look at church. They're afraid that the next person that comes up to them is going to say, "Ummm, there's a bunch of kids down the hall, and I don't think they have a teacher" or that one of their teachers is going to say, "So I'm going to be gone for 1 month. Can you find me a sub?" or that when they walk into the primary room, there will be nothing but kids with no teachers... yeah all of those things happened to me today, some more than once. And the one day this happens, they're the only person (other than their trusty secretary) from the primary presidency at church. Yeah, that happened today too. And then their husband gets called into work and no one is around to take their one-year old baby. Yeah... that happened too.
The primary presidency is made up of four women whose job it is to bully, coerce, praise, thank, beg, plead, bribe, and apologize. All at the same time. In the same sentence. Yes, we will use our jedi mind tricks on you.
We're logistical masters. And we have to do it all with a smile, and without breaking a sweat.
Oh wait, sweating's ok. But they ought to make us some kind of primary presidency tribute trailer that we ladies can watch before going to our primary presidency Sunday job in which dramatic music plays, we walk in tandem decked out in our most in vogue apparel with nary a hair out of place as fiery explosions happen in the background, and a movie voice says something like:
"They are the finders of lost teachers, the pinch hitters of gospel learning.
They are the queens of quiet reverence, the enforcers of butts in chairs, the distractors of the distracted child. They are eluded, shunned, shied from. But they will find you! The forgotten coordinators of the youthful worship. They are the Primary Presidency."
Come to think of it, maybe we should just have one of those draft posters that says "Uncle Sam wants YOU!" except have it be a woman with a primary president name tag. It would say, "Sister TwistUrArm wants YOU!" And we should post it around church.
Trying to accept the exhausting flakiness of so many people on a daily basis is hard enough, but doing so in a church setting, while trying to stay attuned to the Spirit while wondering to yourself why in $*@#*% people can't call you and say they aren't going to be at church to teach their class is at times impossible. Patience in dealing with the logistical side of primary requires one's full-time engagement. Relegating one's self to hints of deceit at times is also a good marketing practice:
-phone rings and voicemail picks up
-"Hello Sister So-and-so. This is Sister Rachel Kelly. Hey! I have a question for you. Can you give me a call back when you get a chance? [repeat phone number at least twice] Thanks! Bye!"
Because you know if you mention needing a sub on their voicemail, you run the risk of not getting a call back.
I'm really going to be screwed when all these people I call finally figure out that I'm in the primary presidency. They'll memorize my number and put a little note next to their phone that says, "If caller ID says 909-518-5434, DO NOT ANSWER!"
Our ward is especially hard to deal with because of the constant influx of new people, temporary and migrating people, and just plain hardly-active-but-just-active-enough-to-get-called-to-primary people. Primary workers often feel disconnected from the rest of the ward, because they spend most of church in primary, away from other adults. When you add a constantly evolving ward to the mix, knowing anyone outside of primary is a miracle. Then of course, you have to figure out who is in town, active, willing, or able to teach when you need a sub. Generally, this is supposed to be left to the teachers themselves, but someone in the presidency is inevitably called, because the primary teacher "just can't find anyone" or whatever the case is.
I'm learning though. By the time I've streamlined this business, I feel that "primary 1st counselor" will grace my resume in bold letters. After all, coordinating people is a skill. Thank-goodness for flexible kids who think coloring a picture of Jesus every week, because the person pinch-hitting the teacher spot needs to insert some busy work, is a perfectly acceptable way to spend a half hour.
If Church is about helping us be better people, I don't feel left out at all.
Oh and here's a really cool picture. I need to see cool clouds like this on days like today.
Hey, it's just one day. You're just one person. The world will still be beautiful even if you go down in burning flames today. This is all swallowed up by the big giant cloud of life. No biggie.
No, I don't hate it, but honestly, when I became a member of the Church, my list of callings I did NOT want looked like this:
Callings I do NOT want:
-Primary teacher
-Primary President
-Nursery leader
-Primary
-Primary
-Primary
Ok, get it? Yeah, I don't like kids, but what I have come to realize by serving in Primary, kids are easy to please. In fact, teaching them is downright fun. I love seeing their little minds spinning when you say something like, "Can you believe the sons of Mosiah turned down being kings to go serve missions among the bloodthirsty Lamanites?" or seeing my class of 4 and 5 year-olds get excited about earning a bead each time they come up with something they're thankful for so that they could make a "thankful bracelet" in class. And nothing tops the time I was sitting on one of those itty-bitty chairs with the sunbeams to help wrangle a bunch of wily 3-year-olds, and the music leader had the sunbeams sing "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam." They were beside themselves with excitement, and when we got to the chorus, "Jesus wants me for a sun-beam!" they leapt up all around me, throwing their little hands in the air like sunbeams, shouting "BEAM!!!" Priceless.
The kids steal the show in Primary. I can say something like, "We're going to see who can hold on to the leg of their chair the entire time in Primary to demonstrate holding on to the iron rod," and the kids would think it was the best game ever. Today, when I was demonstrating weaving a rope using a bunch of pieces of yarn to represent pieces of our testimony like prayer and scripture-study, the kids actually asked to keep the yarn pieces, because they thought it was just so amazing to be able to hold a piece of yarn in Primary. Yeah, Yarn. Really truly.
No, sharing time (a 15 minute lesson someone in the Presidency gives each Sunday during Primary) doesn't phase me anymore, and I think I might even be able to handle music leader just fine if I actually knew the songs.
Then Today happened.
Oh today.
After today, I have finally figured out why women in the primary presidency always have this "deer in the headlights" look at church. They're afraid that the next person that comes up to them is going to say, "Ummm, there's a bunch of kids down the hall, and I don't think they have a teacher" or that one of their teachers is going to say, "So I'm going to be gone for 1 month. Can you find me a sub?" or that when they walk into the primary room, there will be nothing but kids with no teachers... yeah all of those things happened to me today, some more than once. And the one day this happens, they're the only person (other than their trusty secretary) from the primary presidency at church. Yeah, that happened today too. And then their husband gets called into work and no one is around to take their one-year old baby. Yeah... that happened too.
The primary presidency is made up of four women whose job it is to bully, coerce, praise, thank, beg, plead, bribe, and apologize. All at the same time. In the same sentence. Yes, we will use our jedi mind tricks on you.
We're logistical masters. And we have to do it all with a smile, and without breaking a sweat.
Oh wait, sweating's ok. But they ought to make us some kind of primary presidency tribute trailer that we ladies can watch before going to our primary presidency Sunday job in which dramatic music plays, we walk in tandem decked out in our most in vogue apparel with nary a hair out of place as fiery explosions happen in the background, and a movie voice says something like:
"They are the finders of lost teachers, the pinch hitters of gospel learning.
They are the queens of quiet reverence, the enforcers of butts in chairs, the distractors of the distracted child. They are eluded, shunned, shied from. But they will find you! The forgotten coordinators of the youthful worship. They are the Primary Presidency."
Come to think of it, maybe we should just have one of those draft posters that says "Uncle Sam wants YOU!" except have it be a woman with a primary president name tag. It would say, "Sister TwistUrArm wants YOU!" And we should post it around church.
Trying to accept the exhausting flakiness of so many people on a daily basis is hard enough, but doing so in a church setting, while trying to stay attuned to the Spirit while wondering to yourself why in $*@#*% people can't call you and say they aren't going to be at church to teach their class is at times impossible. Patience in dealing with the logistical side of primary requires one's full-time engagement. Relegating one's self to hints of deceit at times is also a good marketing practice:
-phone rings and voicemail picks up
-"Hello Sister So-and-so. This is Sister Rachel Kelly. Hey! I have a question for you. Can you give me a call back when you get a chance? [repeat phone number at least twice] Thanks! Bye!"
Because you know if you mention needing a sub on their voicemail, you run the risk of not getting a call back.
I'm really going to be screwed when all these people I call finally figure out that I'm in the primary presidency. They'll memorize my number and put a little note next to their phone that says, "If caller ID says 909-518-5434, DO NOT ANSWER!"
Our ward is especially hard to deal with because of the constant influx of new people, temporary and migrating people, and just plain hardly-active-but-just-active-enough-to-get-called-to-primary people. Primary workers often feel disconnected from the rest of the ward, because they spend most of church in primary, away from other adults. When you add a constantly evolving ward to the mix, knowing anyone outside of primary is a miracle. Then of course, you have to figure out who is in town, active, willing, or able to teach when you need a sub. Generally, this is supposed to be left to the teachers themselves, but someone in the presidency is inevitably called, because the primary teacher "just can't find anyone" or whatever the case is.
I'm learning though. By the time I've streamlined this business, I feel that "primary 1st counselor" will grace my resume in bold letters. After all, coordinating people is a skill. Thank-goodness for flexible kids who think coloring a picture of Jesus every week, because the person pinch-hitting the teacher spot needs to insert some busy work, is a perfectly acceptable way to spend a half hour.
If Church is about helping us be better people, I don't feel left out at all.
Oh and here's a really cool picture. I need to see cool clouds like this on days like today.
First of all, yes, primary is exhausting and if you weren't in presiding-type roles it is a little less stressful because you don't have the women drama of RS or teenage drama of YW. It's gospel at it's purest (and most entertaining).
ReplyDeleteOne thing I LOVED after I got released from Primary is that whenever I went back to sub for them (sometimes asked the day of, yes........poor presidency) is that Ann Hiatt would give us a mini-crunch bar taped to a little paper saying, "Thanks for helping us in a crunch" or something like that. It's a chocolate bar that made it TOTALLY worth it for me on a Sunday. Also, that bites the teachers don't find their own subs. But w/ your ward being so transient I can see that happening. Hang in there.
BTW- I would give ANYTHING to be in Primary again right now! ;)
ReplyDelete