Talking Donkeys and Smashing Babies: Musings of the Lesbian Daughter of an Evangelical Minister

By Dr. Mara Hollis

Are there two people more diametrically opposite than a conservative, evangelical minister and his progressive thinking, liberal daughter? Dr. Hollis explains how she escaped the cult culture of the Free Will Baptist Doctrine and battled the martinets that were her father and mother. Despite the well-intended beatings designed to beat the hell out she shares humorous family moments and the love of laughter that contributed to her survival.
During this de-programming journey, Dr. Hollis describes what she has learned about the dyke culture and explains why belief in the literal interpretation of the Bible - where donkeys talk to their masters, babies are smashed against rocks, and approval is given for slaves to be beaten within one inch of their lives - is so dangerous.
Join Dr. Hollis as she takes you on a journey to find out why dykes hate weddings and why Christians everywhere seem to be disobeying the teachings of Jesus.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jul 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481726054

Dr. Mara Hollis

Dr. Mara Hollis received her M.A. and C.A.S. in School Psychology, and completed her Ed.D. in Educational Leadership. As a minister’s daughter, she was taught to accept biblical teachings as absolute truths. As a researcher, she began questioning the fundamental teachings of the church. She lives with her partner of 29 years in North Carolina.

Book preview

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Discovery

Making Fun

Advantages to Being a Preacher’s Kid

Sit HERE!

What Does He Do?

Spare the Rod

Gambling

Family and Marriage

Payback is Heaven

Qualitative Study of Dyke’s Perceptions of Weddings

Why Dykes Don’t Carry Purses

Why Dykes Don’t Have Babies

Why Dykes Make Such Great Employees

Why Dykes Wear Men’s Clothes

Life Goals – Doctorate, Black Belt, and Book Writing

Learning How to Ride a Bike and Swim

Can’t See the Forest

Dogs

Nature Lover - Right!

Church Hymns

I See Christmas

Pennies from Heaven

Post-Death Dreams

Polar Opposites

Pulpit Goofs!

Angst – iety!

Prayer

Middle School and Beyond

Crushes

Kill ‘em with Kindness

Christmas from Hell

Liberal vs. Conservative

Excursion – Return to Yonder

Book Gone Bad

Forward for the Book Gone Bad

The Most Bizarre Bible Verses

The Strangest Bible Verses about Women and Children

Contradictions in the Bible

Curses/Destruction

Depression

Adulthood

Final Thoughts

DISCOVERY

I DROPPED THAT BOOK like it was a hot potato. It is amazing how a small, seemingly innocuous, inanimate object that weighed no more than two pounds, with no sharp or jagged edges, containing no poisonous substances - nothing that would physically harm anything unless hurled with great force - could elicit such fear. I had just climbed into the back seat of my parents’ Crown Victoria. (Do old ministers drive anything else?) While waiting for my parents to join me in the car, I casually leaned over to see what Mother had been reading. I assumed it was the usual, typical religious literature. The only books in our household had titles like: The Free Will Baptist, How to be a Christian Husband, How to be an Obedient Christian Wife, or Jesus Teaches about Family.

So Your Child is Gay! screamed the title. Oh my God! They, or at least, she, knew! Maybe it was just a suspicion. Maybe they were talking about my sister. No, she had been infatuated with boys since she was young. She went crazy when her favorite boy stars appeared on television and always swooned when talking about her boyfriends. No, it had to be me.

I can’t imagine what gave me away – my undying love for flannel, my complete disinterest in boys, the sparkle in my eyes when watching the Lennon Sisters sing on TV, my utter disdain for anything feminine (except other girls), my declaration at a very early age that there was no way I was getting married and having babies, or the girls I kept bringing home who were androgynous in both appearance and behavior. I thought I had successfully contained my emotions, although admittedly I always feared a discovery. Sometimes it felt as if I were on the verge of an incredible eruption of those pent-up feelings that could never be conveyed; I felt as if I would forever be confined to a secretive and isolated existence.

Realizing that something was terribly wrong compelled me to sit and ruminate about how my life had unfolded. Why had I, a liberal thinking lesbian, ended up with an evangelical minister, his obedient wife (most of the time), and their other two children as my family? They – my Dad, Mom and two sisters, would probably say that my soul was sent to this particular family so it could be saved. I choose to believe that the fateful intent was for me to free them from the bondages of prejudice. I think neither of us has succeeded. To get along, we just choose not to discuss politics or religion. My parents’ mantra is, If you don’t believe as I do, you are wrong. Until a few years ago, my father believed Catholics were going to hell because they prayed to Mary (a false idol). He has since changed his mind about that but still believes firmly that all non-Christians will meet their fate with the devil. I guess I will be one of those if I don’t live long enough to repent and straighten up.

I decided to try to find out why I was so strange, so different from others. I had no idea why I was the way I was, and what made other people tick, but I was certainly interested in finding out, so I majored in psychology. I discovered almost immediately that this Nature-Nurture debate had been going on for years, and there were no definitive conclusions. Some people believe that nature (genetics) contributes more and others believe nurture (environment) is more responsible for our eventual outcomes. But, we are all products of our heredity and environment. Simple enough.

But that didn’t answer the question to which I wanted a specific and conclusive response: Why am I homosexual, especially when I have been told time and time again that it is one of the most egregious sins? The idea that homosexuality was sinful was so ingrained in us, I didn’t even acknowledge I was gay until I was a junior in college. My attraction to one of my dorm buddies was so strong, it was as if I had been slapped in the face with the realization that I was a lesbian. I had written papers on the subject for my psychology and sociology classes and still repressed the fact that I was one of them, even though I never felt a strong attraction to the opposite sex. I never had a desire to kiss or hug the guys I dated, and could not understand their obsession with these things. I had daydreamed about kissing girls, but knew it was taboo, and those daydreams could never be revealed to anyone. Homosexuality was something I did not want to acknowledge because homosexuals were people that were mocked and ridiculed. My older sister’s favorite joke was Did you hear about the queer who couldn’t hear? She would say it in a very low voice so the person being joked would respond, Huh? She would, again, say, Did you hear about the queer who couldn’t hear? either in a very low voice or very fast to elicit the response another time or two, and then very plainly and loudly say, Did you hear about the queer who couldn’t hear?

Homosexuality in the 70’s when I came out (to myself, at least), was still off most people’s radar. There were no public discussions; few private disclosures even. Most people at that time did not know anyone who was gay. There were no famous people advocating for gay rights, no politicians who supported gay rights (that would have been a death sentence), and no major films or television shows that highlighted us in any favorable ways. Most of us were terrified that someone would find out because we knew it could potentially affect our friendships, employment, and housing options. So, we remained in the farthest corners of the darkest closets.

Prior to my introduction into the gay world, I had straight friends I knew and loved. I felt like a liar and a fake by hiding this very important part of myself from them. It was difficult to find liberal-minded others, and mistakes in assumptions could have dire consequences. My fears were so ingrained, I never approached anyone. But some brave souls’ gaydar was activated by me, and I was soon swept off my feet by these interesting, rebellious, yet loving lesbians who introduced me to the other secret club members and dared invite me to the bar that catered to people like me. I had no idea there were so many other gays. I wasn’t the only one in the entire world after all!

I will have to admit, it was a culture shock. I had never seen two women or men dancing together. I had seen the obligatory hug between male relatives, but never affectionate hugging or kissing. Admittedly, it took me a while to get used to it. I am not fond of public affection whether it be straights or gays indulging.

The first straight person to whom I disclosed was my college roommate, Sandra. Her acceptance line was one of the sweetest I have ever heard. Mara, she said, I’m so happy for you. I knew you would understand, I countered, But why are you happy? Because I was afraid you would never fall in love, and you’ve been trying to fall in love with men, and it just didn’t work for you – because you love women! Don’t we wish everyone were that understanding?

The second straight person to whom I revealed my real self was another of my supportive college friends, whose only negative reaction stemmed from the fact that I had not told her earlier, and she had no clue that I was anything but heterosexual.

Very few people were trusted or close enough to share my intimate secrets, and I