Accepting Other Cultures

Photo by Emily D.S. and Willamae Boling| VOX Staff and Special VOX Guest

By Willamae Boling
VOX Staff

"I'm a Quaker."
"But you use electricity!"
"I'm not Amish …"
"Oh."

So, what is a Quaker anyway? Are they clones of the oatmeal man? Are they celibate? Aren't there only, like, four left? If you think Quakers are any of those things, you’re wrong. Quakers are Friends, and Quakerism is probably one of the most mocked religions in existence. Maybe it's because an oatmeal company stole our name, or because we're also known as The Religious Society of Friends. Whatever the reason, most people have absolutely no idea what a Quaker is — but I happen to be one.

Finding Faith
I was born into my religion, so I grew up surrounded by Quaker beliefs and history. However, when I was younger, my religion was much more of a novelty, something that I used to anger some of the real Christians I knew. (They thought I was a heathen.) I went through many stages of religious belief before I reached the accepting attitude I have today.

When I was very young, I was completely ambivalent about my religion. I didn't really know what it was, and I didn't really care to. Then starting in about third grade, all the way through elementary school, I became a rabid Quaker. I gave reports about founder George Fox and sang the George Fox song in my social studies class.

Then I took a dramatic step backward. When I was 11, I enrolled at The Friends School of Atlanta for middle school. While I was there I shunned my religion, first because Quakerism was mocked at The Friends School, mostly because of lame rules like the "no touch rule." Later, I shunned it because I was rejecting things, like God.

I'm still an atheist. The best thing about Quakers is that they're cool with me being both, because while Quakers are technically Christians, they aren't really Christians. I've met Jewish Quakers, atheist Quakers, pagan Quakers and Muslim Quakers. They're all as wonderful as plain old Christian Quakers. While this may not make sense to members of a stricter form of Christianity, a great deal of Quakers are no longer real Christians.

SAYF
I really discovered how awesome Quakers are in the eighth grade, when I began attending SAYF (Southern Appalachian Young Friends) retreats and learned that not all Quakers are old white people. I discovered that Quakers could be charming, intelligent and young. At SAYF retreats I saw teens act in a way that I was not used to. These teens were (mostly) wise and accepting. I’m still not used to being around teens who are so willing to think and help others.

One of SAYF's common rituals is meeting for worship with attention to healing. It may sound complicated, but it's a very simple and incredibly moving experience. Teens sit in silent worship and when they feel led, they share life experiences that have caused them to need healing or experiences they think will help heal others. Moments like these are the ones that truly define Quakerism for me. It is not church, or God that unites us, but pure, never-ending love.

The retreats caused a dramatic reaction for me. I realized that at SAYF I wasn't as scared of people, and I didn't have to be so correct. I developed pride in my religion, and in myself. These retreats are pretty much the only place where someone you barely know will walk up to you and say, "You're amazing, and I love you." SAYF is the most affirming place I’ve ever been. And, like most people, I need affirmation sometimes. It's nice not to have to force kindness out of others.

So, when I started ninth grade at Grady, whenever I had to "say something interesting about myself" I proudly stated my religion. "I'm Quaker, you?" I became a novelty, and I'm cool with that.

SPICEin' it Up
There are only about 350,000 Quakers worldwide. What can I say? We're a rare bunch. We believe in SPICEin' it up.

It's not Christianity or being accepting or cool that makes us Quakers. It's that one little word: SPICE. SPICE is the acronym for the five Quaker Testimonies: Simplicity, Peace, Integrity, Community and Equality. The Quaker testimonies guide our lives and decisions.

For me the testimonies revealed themselves in my daily routines. Last fall, when I was struggling with a serious bout of morality, I decided to do everything within my power to stop using animal-tested products. It just seemed like the most Quaker-ly thing to do. Unfortunately, animal testing is a very expensive thing to care about. It forced me to dig through my drawers and discard anything with a major brand name. Yet, I’ve realized it’s a manageable goal. Granted, I have to buy almost everything from mall stores (like Sephora and Bath and Body Works), or health food stores (like Greenlife, Sevenanda or Whole Foods). So I find myself spending a lot more money on things than before, but it's worth it.

I've gained an important, new view of the world from my religion. I've learned that prices aren't everything. Don't get me wrong, I'm still cheap (I like to say thrifty), but I take my morals more seriously. Before, morality was something I could claim at convenience, but now that I actually think about things, they have real meaning. However, that could have as much (or little) to do with aging as it does with Quakerism.

The Punch Line
Unfortunately, accepting my religion means I have to accept the bad jokes that go hand-in-hand with it. "Whatcha gonna do, throw oatmeal at me?" has become something I hear all the time. And as much as I love my religion, I'm tired of being asked about oats. Apparently, the idea of me being a reincarnation of the Quaker Oat Man is hilarious to many of my friends. Who would I be to ruin their good time?

In fact, the whole inspiration for this article was someone mistaking me for an Amish person. Three hundred years ago we may have dressed in a similar fashion to the Amish, but today Quakers blend right into society. And yes, we DO use electricity.

Willamae is a freshman at Grady High. She is a master of safety scissors and pinking shears.