I have major updates on my progress of leaving the JW religion. For those of you who are at a point in your life where I was a year and a half ago, I hope my story helps.
FIRST, though, I have a request for SIMON: I have e-mailed this request two you at least TWICE in the past and I have asked you PUBLICLY on this forum this request: Please, please, PLEASE merge my old posting names of 'Mister Biggs' AND 'Mister 8iggs' with 'Funchback'. This will make me an instant Jedi...LOL!
Moving along, I will post what I wrote THEN, and then in a few days I will post where I am at in my progress today! Here is what I wrote on this forum on 3/25/02:
I have been a poster on this Board for several months.
I will first let you peer into my childhood. I want you to know my psyche. Some of my experiences may be unrelated to the JW's but I wanted to share with you some of my strongest and fondest memories.
I hope that my experiences will be an encouragement for lurkers to seriously consider if they really believe that Jehovah is using the JW's as His only channel of communication for mankind today.
Perhaps you have had similar experiences.
Here is my story...
I was born on January 1, 1970. My nationality is that of black american and white american. However, myself and my siblings all look white. In fact, I have green eyes. I grew up in Philadelphia, PA, specifically in the Mount Airy section of the city (which is the northwest part).
My family was non-religious. We celebrated birthdays, christmas, and easter. Not for religious purposes, however. They were simply celebrated so that me and my siblings could have presents and candy like the rest of the kids in the neighborhood. They were fun holidays.
My family was friends with a white family who lived a few blocks away.
This family soon moved to the Poconos (which is about a 2 1/2 hour drive from Philly). They had ten children! Their moving turned out to be great because we ended up visiting them a couple of times a year. More on this family later. :o)
I was not a typical kid. My dad was the black parent, although he was very light-skinned. Being a very young child, I had no concept of 'race'. My first two friends were black (William) and Spanish (Derrick). One day I asked my father if I could go outside and play with the 'chocolate boy'. It was a very innocent question but my dad tried to explain to me as best he could that that term may be offensive to people.
I was also a tough kid. I feared no one. My first day of kindergarten a kid named Nathan was bullying every classmate in sight. He came over to me to try to bully me. Fast forward to when my mom picks me up that day from school. She asks, "So, how was your first day of school?"
I respond, "It was okay."
Excitedly, she asks, "Well, what did you do? Tell me about your day."
I said, "I had to clean up the blood."
Puzzled, my mom asks, "What blood?"
I say, "The blood from the boys' nose."
Incredulously, she asks, "What blood from what boys' nose?!?"
I answer, "The blood from the boys' nose I punched!"
Needless to say, Nathan never tried to bully me again.
I was a kid that would embarrass my parents (sometimes). When my mom and I were riding on the bus one day (I must have been about 4 years old), a heavy set lady boarded the bus. Without warning, I blurted out in a loud voice, "Hey, mom! Look at that fat lady!"
If I recall correctly, we got off at the next stop.
I was a wild looking child. I had big, wide eyes and wild, curly hair. I just looked like a bad kid. A man once asked my father if I was his son. My father said 'yes' and the man said to my dad, "I betcha he's bad kid. He looks bad." Sigh...
Anyway...
One day, when I was about eight years old, my sister (she's 5 years older than me) asked me if I wanted to go to the Kingdom Hall with her next week. I asked her what a Kingdom Hall was and she said it was like a church. I said that I would go since I had never been to church before. Also, I had recently been telling my mommy that I wanted to start going to church.
The Meeting Day Arrives
I had my good friend over. Her name was Elena. Elena and I were playing like we always would. Then, my sister uttered the words, "Biggs...Are you going to get ready soon?"
"Ready for what?", I wondered. "Oh, the church thing. I forgot about that!"
I tell my sister, "I don't wanna go! I'm playing!"
My sister says, "Biggs, you promised you would go..."
Reluctantly, I get dressed and go.
We Arrive At The Hall
It's a Thursday night. It's my first experience going to a "church". There are both blacks and whites attending (along with a Spanish family). The meeting opens with a song. A prayer is said. Then, papers are being handed out. It was some sort of test. It had many questions on it. I was scared! I was being given a test? For what? How could they give me a test when I don't know anything about God or religion? It turns out that this night, my first "church" experience, was the night of the Written Review. It wasn't until I got home that I found out it wasn't some sort of initiation test.
So, I went to my first meeting at 8 years old. My sister was now officially studying. So was my mom. Religion had finally entered into the Biggs' household!