A Long-Overdue Update

Geez. It’s been a while. That’s not exactly NOT par for the course for this blog, but each time I write something, I promise myself I won’t go so long before writing something else. I’d like to say that old cliché “life gets in the way",” but it’s more akin to “my life is a perpetual struggle of trying to manage ADHD and depression which manifest in such helpful ways as the urge to sit on the couch and binge mindless tv so I don’t have to inevitably fail at whatever I set out to do.” I’m working on it, okay?

So, after the great Bruce Barber Debacle (tm), I took some time off. As someone who has sung for the church since the age of 10-ish, my newfound ability to sleep in or go to brunch on a Sunday morning was just delicious. I truly never thought I’d go back to a church job. Part of that was the glorious freedom of a calendar free from rehearsals and services, but I think a bigger part of that was my feeling that the choir family I cherished and in which I felt safe no longer existed. I was never a particularly religious person and have since pushed into full-on atheism, but I always felt that, as an employee of the Episcopal Church, I was contributing to a church that actually helped humanity. I was proud to be part of a church which I felt was truly accepting of everyone. Even after the previous issues I’d had along the way since Bruce was hired, I never imagined that church leadership would allow everything to play out as it did.

Given that, perhaps I shouldn’t have been shocked that Bruce has faced no consequences for his actions. I knew that the rector was mentally checked-out when she hired him (he was a surprise interim who then weaseled his way into a permanent position with no search for any other options - and against the protests of many choir members), and I knew she had lent zero support when he threw me under the bus. I assumed she wouldn’t have much else to say on the matter.

But… my family? My parents and brother are still there. I don’t know how they do it. My parents are retiring this year, and by all accounts they realize that Bruce is a problem. My brother seems happy to stay and, outwardly at least, takes no issue with the events of early 2020. I’ll be honest, it’s been acutely painful for me to see their continued involvement with the man. With that said, I temper the hurt with the thoughts that: 1. My family is non-confrontational to an unhealthy level, and 2. It’s a job, and the money sure doesn’t hurt. And at the end of the day, I don’t think anyone can reasonably expect anyone else to quit a job in solidarity. Logically, I know that. I try to tell it to my heart a la Taylor Dane (LET ME SEE YOUR BODY ROCK).

I don’t recognize the Christ Church Choir anymore; I haven’t heard them sing since I left. Many members have left or been pushed out. The new group is described as sounding “sterile,” and they are “clique-y.” I think that comes with the territory given the situation. I ran into a lovely man who used to sing with the Christ Church Choir regularly; he gave me a huge hug and teared up as he said, “it’s not what it used to be. It’s not a family anymore.” The new, shiny, young members stick together, and I suppose occasionally condescend to interact with the old guard now and then.

I’m not even sure I have an opinion either way about that. I loved the family we were, but, as I’ve said - it is a job, and I can’t really say it’s necessarily a bad thing if the culture there is moving towards “business-like” in any regard. I can only say that I hope that that includes the church office so that perhaps the monumental ethical issues there might be dealt with.

As for me, I’m doing the thing I thought I’d never do again: working for a church choir.

After a few months off, I happened to notice that my very first choir director was looking for an alto to join his choir. This man laid the foundation for my voice, my musicality, and my love of Anglican music. I knew I could trust him to be an ethical, kind leader. I thought about it for about a day, and then reached out to him. I auditioned, got the job, and here we are.

That lovely man has since retired. His replacement is another lovely, kind man whom I knew from none other than Christ Church. It’s exciting to sing for him and be part of the sound he’s nurturing in the choir. There’s also a familiar grounding for me in being part of a musical group that feels like a family once again. I feel a part of something both special and non-exclusive, and what a gift it is.

After all, even for an atheist like me, it’s more than just a job.