I was born to parents who had recently become members of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and that was how I was raised.
When I was a kid, 15 years old, I was convinced that Jehovah’s Witnesses knew The Truth about life, the universe, and everything. I was sure that they had it all figured out and that the end of the world was rapidly approaching, so I got baptized.
When I was 30, I discovered that this was not, in fact, the case. They Watchtower Society was just a human religion with no more claim to “truth” than any other and much of what they claimed to be True was provably False. Well, darn.
In normal life, in typical situations, a person learns new things, discovers that something they thought was one way is actually another, and they can change their views and it’s not, like, the end of the world. Not so with the Jehovah’s Witnesses. As it turns out, they don’t let you just leave without pretty much demolishing your entire life. Everybody you ever knew and loved who happens to be a Witness is lost to you, forever, and it sucks.
Because of this particular facet of the Jehovah’s Witnesses, because of the way they demonize, shun, ostracize, criticize, and dehumanize former members, there is a large community of former members who are, to put it mildly, fucking angry. People go to therapy, they do self harm, they rant online, they picket Watchtower conventions. In short, they do the very human and rational things that anybody would do when they are mistreated, falsely accused, judged and condemned without cause, and given no voice. These people engage in activism against the Watchtower and in support of other former members.
I respect this community. It is a community that is mostly fueled by righteous indignation over a major injustice. I feel that, but I have always struggled with finding the balance for myself between that righteous indignation, my own mental health, and actually acting in a way that might somehow help alleviate some of the harm that Witnesses cause with the abuse they perpetrate on former members.
If you are vocal, strident, or direct, you will be accused of “hating your former brothers”. They will say you are angry and bitter, that you are mentally diseased, when all you really are is outraged and hurt because you’ve been lied to and abused and they will cross the street if they so much as see you on the other side. On the other hand, if you are quiet and swallow your objections down, they will still shun you but may occasionally reach out with an invitation to start attending their meetings again or something like that. Every former JW that I know has had to decide for themselves just how vocal, how direct, they personally want to be, where their personal lines are.
I have learned that I am vocal but I am not an activist. I have participated in activism when asked to and I believe the activists are on the side of justice, but I am not one of them. In my down time I try to avoid “EXJW” content. I am not interested in the videos, podcasts, books, or websites that obsess over the Watchtower Society and the Jehovah’s Witnesses. I don’t enjoy rehashing old traumas. When I do participate, I try very hard to represent a perspective of moving on, living a post-Witness life that is healthy, and finding balance. I’d rather talk about pretty much anything than the Jehovah’s Witnesses. I don’t want to give them any more of my too short time on this earth.
When a major part of your identity is your opposition to someone or something, you are still in a relationship with that thing and I don’t want to be in any sort of relationship with the Watchtower Society anymore. Not with them, not against them, I just want to live my life.
However, since I opened myself up to a documentary film being made about a big part of my life, music, and past with the Witnesses I’ve participated in interviews and podcasts and conversations with various people in the EXJW world. It isn’t the first time I have done this sort of thing. When I first left the Witnesses I did a few interviews on podcasts and cable access TV shows and it was similar. I considered writing a proper book, getting into free-thought and humanist activism, but I decided that it wasn’t for me. Activism feels wrong for me. That’s not who I am. So, I did my appearances and then I declined additional invites and stopped because at the end of the day I would rather be an artist than an activist. The problem with mixing the two, in my opinion, is that when art becomes too topical for me it becomes boring and predictable. My problem with political or religious music isn’t the message, it’s the dullness of only writing songs about a single topic. Snore.
Now I feel that I have to make this “how much to flirt with activism” decision again. The activist community of former Witnesses are interested in the movie and I’m happy they are. That’s great. However, I sincerely hope the film’s exposure is not limited strictly to that community and I would love it if everybody saw the movie, even if they’ve never met a Jehovah’s Witness. The movie is NOT targeted specifically at Jehovah’s Witnesses, current or former. You don’t need to have gone to space to enjoy a documentary about the moon landing and you don’t need to know or care about the Jehovah’s Witnesses to enjoy Witness Underground. Do you like music? Do you have human feelings about things? Congratulations, you are the target audience for Witness Underground.
That said, the XJW activists have been the ones who naturally want to talk about the film and the temptation has been there to get into that activism and I’ve felt really uncomfortable about it. It seems like that same decision point I felt back in 2006. Do I further engage in activism or do I step back?
I’ve decided, I’m once again stepping back. I have to. For my sanity, my health, my happiness. As I said, at heart, I’m not an activist. I’m glad they exist, I’m a fellow traveler, but I’m not going to picket or post or argue or debate or engage in the Watchtower topic on a regular basis if I can help it.
I believe the best thing for me is to focus on being a normal person. I do not self identify as an “apostate”, or an “XJW”, just as a “human”. A non-theistic Buddhist, if you press me further on the topic of religion but I wish you wouldn’t, thanks. When I take on those identities I feel uncomfortable and unhappy. I’m just a guy who likes computers and cars and dogs and fishing and making music and eating spicy food. I want to spend time doing normal things and being happy and I don’t want to talk about the Watchtower Society or write about it or think about it or read about it or watch videos about it or listen to podcasts about it. I lived happily like this for many years and I will do so again from here on out. Make music. Drive around in old stupid cool cars. Take pictures with obsolete cameras. Catch bass. Be a dork.
So, you won’t be seeing me doing much more Witness chat from here on out, k? It’s a part of my life, I’m not ashamed of it and I’m not going to avoid talking about it now and then, but I’m not a religious activist and I don’t want to become one.
When a group robs you of your voice, it is a natural reaction to go, “I’ll scream so loud they’ll have to hear me.” It’s a natural inclination to want to be heard, to be understood, to tell it from your perspective. And sure, sometimes it also natural to be angry over injustice and want to speak against it.
I really don’t fault activists because often that is the part of the process of healing and moving on. I wrote a couple novels. As a writer, that was how I processed my trauma. And I’m not ashamed of those books. One was an angry post-apocalyptic piece of deconstruction. I followed up with a sweet little romance for my own mental wellness..
Like you, I left that space for many years. To continue to dwell in that mindset didn’t sit well. I just wanted to find out “so what’s next?” I healed a little and did my best to move on even though that is sometimes harder than anticipated. In life I’m finding that little things can trigger PTSD because it’s how I felt “back then”.
I was a little bit conflicted stepping back into that space in support of the documentary. The events covered in the film were a very important part of my experience and some of the best times of my life. I credit that scene’s openness toward music and art and being a little weird for helping me never give up on creative dreams. I considered it a personal way of paying back to have that story told.
I also did some interviews in support of the film’s crowdfunding. It was a little jarring to land back in that head space. Often those podcast appearances were heavily medicated with whiskey. I hope I was more moderate and forgiving than in the early days of it. I think so. But still — that shit still hurts — it hurts a lot.
Mission accomplished that the documentary met its goal of landing on streaming services where everyone can see it and I hope they do. I’ve shared it with so many people from all backgrounds. Like you said, if you are into music you’ll love it. Musicians and artists know what it’s like to be in an “outsider” position because of their creative drives. As you said, it’s a human story and I couldn’t be happier with how it was told.
So now it’s time to step back again and focus on my life, my creative pursuits, and my dreams. I’m very much excited to see what the future holds for us all.