Many Mormon scholars and apologists will point to a quote from Helen herself stating that the marriage was a “step” she was taking “for eternity alone” in order to claim that the marriage was not a marriage in the traditional sense, but rather a ceremony that would only seal her to Joseph Smith in heaven. This quote comes from a poem that Helen wrote after marrying Joseph Smith where she describes the experience. One scholar, J. Spencer Fluhman, goes on to say that the quote suggests that the marriage was “unconsummated.” This quote is carefully selected and framed in a way that makes Helen’s poem seem faith-promoting. You can read Fluhman’s article here.

Subscribe now

In light of Fluhman’s analysis, I would like to provide my own close reading of Helen’s poem. What Fluhman and others fail to express in their analysis is that Helen’s poem is not a testimony to her faith, but rather is the lament of a young daughter who endured the hardship of polygamy because of the trust she had in her father. Her writing lives in a much more nuanced reality, and ultimately showcases the very human response Helen had to her marriage.

Let’s first read through her poem:

Let’s now make our way through each section of the poem, taking care to understand what the words are saying.

This section, lines 1-4, is what the essay points to in order to claim that the marriage was just a sealing. Here, Helen writes that she believed she would have had a normal life where she got to make decisions for herself, and contextually it is safe to assume that one of those choices is the choice in whom she marries. But she was approached by her father and Joseph telling her she needs to take this step instead to secure her eternal salvation. The third line, “no one need be the wiser” tells us that at least Helen thought no one else would need to know she was married to Joseph, and the fourth line reiterates this idea that nothing would change for her, that the future would be as the past was.

This section, lines 5-8, shows us that what Helen understood at the beginning—that is, what she expressed in the first four lines—was a misunderstanding of the situation. Helen speaks of her own innocence (line 5), and talks about how all her hopes as a youth were blissful (line 6). This is reminiscent of many young girls imagining what it will be like to grow up and have a prince charming sweep them off their feet and get to have a big wedding with a beautiful dress. It’s sweet and innocent, and tells us as a reader that Helen was decidedly in the headspace of a young girl.

Line 7 expresses again that hope, but brings in a sense of danger “the thret’ning clouds were kept” which marks a tonal shift that indicates to us that there is a threat looming in the distance, something Helen can’t see. Then in line 8 “From sight and all looked fair” Helen tells us everything looked like it was okay, just as she was told, but it clearly wasn’t because the line ends “but pitying angels wept.” From a theological standpoint, weeping angels is an intense, bold line. Angels wept, heaven wept, because she engaged in this marriage? Angels do not weep for the simplistic troubles of naive love and heartbreak. This is an indictment. If we were to believe that everything was pristine and just as God commanded, the angels should be joyous. Helen subverts our expectations with this line and tells us that something about her marriage was so deeply wrong that it elicited heaven’s sorrow.

Here, in lines 9-12, Helen further expands on why things with this marriage were very wrong. Line 9 describes her friends growing distant from her, which begs the question: why? Why are her friends growing distant from her? If nothing was to change, if everything was to be just a simple secret that mattered only in the afterlife, what’s pushing her friends away? Line 10 tells us that she was experiencing people throwing insults “poisonous darts from sland’rous tongues” potentially from her friends, or even from other onlookers. Her marriage to Joseph brought her under the public eye in a horrific way. Her hardship echoes that of Hester Prynne from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel The Scarlet Letter, who was similarly ostracized by her society for committing the sin of adultery. In both instances, the woman bore the full weight of their religious society’s scorn while the man’s transgressions were kept hidden. What also seems to be clear is that there was no protection offered to her from her father or Joseph—those who could set others straight did nothing to prevent this. Line 11 proceeds to tell us that she was not told of all that would entail within her “gen’rous sacrafise.” This indicates that Helen had no clue what all her marriage to Joseph would entail. Line 12 seals the sentiment of this section by blatantly stating that she did not “weigh the cost nor know the bitter price;” — she didn’t know the cost of what she was doing, she was “untutor’d” in the price, and was very much naive. She was, in every sense, a girl of “guileless heart free from worldly care.”

Lines 13-16 are a lament, the culmination of the previous sections. Her words are heartbreaking, and the anguish she was experiencing as a result of her marriage is unmistakable. In line 13, she says all her dreams are over, and the end of the line runs into line 14, saying that she was doomed to be barred from society by this destiny (her marriage). In lines 15 and 16 together she expresses her sadness as a result of all her lost joys, and her heart has begun to brood and imagine future misfortune.

She ends the first major section of her poem with a couplet that declines to rhyme, making use of a sad irony by allowing herself the freedom to escape her rhyming scheme while she describes herself like a caged bird longing for freedom. She clearly sees herself here as a prisoner. She ends with line 18, saying that she wishes daily for freedom, for the days she had once, for the days she assumed she would have, the days her marriage has kept her from experiencing.

Here, we get another reversal of the narrative as Helen starts to reflect upon herself. In lines 19 and 20, she says that if she could see the reward she is promised in heaven she wouldn’t weep or mourn. She has been promised a reward that should transcend the pain she feels, a reward that shouldn’t be met with weeping or mourning—but she is weeping and mourning, as evident by the past sections of the poem, so at this point she can’t see that “glorious crown.” She then talks about her father’s motivation as she saw it in lines 21 and 22, that he was aiming for her to be exalted by obeying this celestial law. She is telling us that she believes her father was doing this for a good purpose.

The next section, lines 23-26, pivots away from questioning mourning upon yet another reversal. Helen is telling herself she will bear this suffering because she’s holding on to a belief that it’s for eternal joy. In lines 25 and 26, she tells us why she’s clinging to this belief: because she’s been “taught to reveire the Prophet of God” who brings her every word of the Lord. She clings to this hope and endures a suffering that makes the angels weep because she’s been taught her whole life to revere Joseph Smith.

But then we’re left with a final reversal. The experiences she’s had she wouldn’t have believed. It doesn’t matter that she was taught to revere Joseph and obey the words he gives her if her father hadn’t told her this was from God. She trusted her father above all else. It’s no longer about Joseph, or the words he tells her, or the practices. It’s all a lament that this has come from her father. She wouldn’t have believed all the pain and hardship that had come from her marriage to Joseph was “God’s sacred truth,” had not her father told her it was. One might argue that this is instead her relinquishing her own judgment out of a deep trust for her father’s wise counsel. However, the context of the poem and the lines before push back against this avenue of interpretation both tonally and theologically. “I should ne’r have received it” she says in this final sentence as an admittance that, despite her upbringing teaching her to trust the prophet of God, she cannot see his actions as from God and can only justify her situation by leaning on a trust that her father had a greater ability for discernment than her own. This statement doesn’t affirm that her marriage was founded on her firm faith, rather she traces her decision back, not to the trust of Joseph Smith, nor of God, but to her trust in her father.

In the end, she doesn’t leave us with a claim that is God’s sacred truth. She is not giving us a nice clean testimony, but instead she is leaving the poem open, begging us to ask why in her stead. Why has all of this suffering happened if it came to her from God? We don’t know. She doesn’t know. All she has is her trust that her father loves her.

Then Randy asked me “In your letters of recommendation, they mentioned that you had to deal with growing up non-Mormon in Utah. Why is that? Help us make sense of that.”

Subscribe now

I stammered. I was a long long way from home, far from the Utah bubble. Here, Mormons were just quirky religious people in button-down t-shirts and name tags. I didn’t know how to answer.

Until that moment, I’d lived in Utah and everyone understood what the paradigm was: you were either Mormon, or you weren’t. Catholic, Protestant, Buddhist, Muslim, agnostic, atheist…everyone was on the same team so long as you weren’t Mormon.

There’s really no good way to quickly answer that question quickly. A whole life’s worth of moments that other you and push you to the outskirts of society even when everyone promises they love you can’t be expressed in just a few words.

I gave Randy a sputtering answer and got wait listed for that program, but that’s okay, I got into a much much better program.

But how do I answer that question? How do I explain to people what it feels like to grow up with what feels like an incurable disease of unworthiness that’s all wrapped up in whether or not you believe in a high-demand religion? How do you tell people that parents and teachers actively put you in situations that ostracized you among your peers?

Maybe with a story.

I was getting ready to head to cub scouts like I did every Wednesday. I had my blue uniform all pressed, my neckerchief done up with its slide, and was excited as I hopped into the backseat of our car for my mom to drive me around the corner to the local church building.

The LDS chapel was like all LDS chapels, with beige carpeted walls and flower-print couches in the entryway where mothers can take their rowdy children during sacrament meeting.

We had two den mothers, one was my next-door-neighbor and the other lived up the street. Today, our next-door-neighbor was sick, so the other den mother decided that, instead of our normally scheduled activity learning something about camping, or safety, or some other bit of survival information, we would watch a video.

So, she sat us down on the flower-print couch, pulled up a TV, and put in a video of the Joseph Smith story.

Images of a man from the 1800s flashed onto the screen and slowly we learned about Joseph Smith.

At just 14 years old, Joseph was bombarded by various preachers from the Second Great Awakening, who all were claiming to have the right church and the right view of Christianity. Everyone claimed to have the Truth…but when everyone claims to have the Truth and they’re all conflicting, where does one turn?

Joseph turned to the Bible. One night he was reading through James and came across James 1:5 “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” He decided to take God up on the offer the next day and made his way into a forest grove.

There, he knelt and prayed for God to show him which of the churches was the right one. And there in the middle of the grove, God the Father and Jesus both appeared to him and told him that none of the churches were the right church and that he must not join any of the churches. The two personages promised Joseph that they would eventually reveal to him the full gospel—that Joseph would one day restore the one True church to the earth.

The video ended.

I had only recently learned who Joseph Smith was in my 4th grade history unit on Utah and the pioneers. Our teacher had handed out an art assignment to go along with what we were learning; everyone was given a printout of a different figure from Utah history to sketch ourselves to put on our hallway bulletin. My friend Thomas, who was the only other non-Mormon in the class, received a picture of Brigham Young to sketch. All the students in the class were so excited and started asking, “Who got Joseph Smith? Who got Joseph Smith?” I was given Joseph Smith. When I asked why everyone cared about him so much, the response I received was a bunch of horrified looks. My mom told me who he was when I got home.

I sat there in silence as our den mother moved the TV aside and turned to us.

“Doesn’t that make you all feel good?” she said. “Knowing that your church is the one true church?”

The other two scouts immediately said, “Yes!”

I sat there in silence.

“What about you, Jackson?” our den mother asked.

“No,” I said.

I could tell I had said something wrong by the look of astonishment on her face. I had broken the cardinal rule: always affirm the church is true. Maybe I had misheard her. Maybe I didn’t know the rules.

“No?” she said. “That doesn’t make you feel good?”

“No,” I said. What else was I supposed to say? It wasn’t my church.

For those who do not know, Mormonism, officially known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or the LDS church, teaches that God’s plan for humanity involves eternal marriage and ultimately becoming heavenly parents. These beliefs, beyond the beliefs of traditional Christianity, hinder many Mormons from seeing homosexuality as anything more than grievous sin. I would be remiss not to mention that there are numerous Mormons that interpret their beliefs in ways that allow them to be accepting and even supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. However, according to information put out by The Trevor Project in 2022, “50% of LGBTQ youth in Utah seriously considered suicide in the past year,” and 17% of LGBTQ youth had made an attempt.

Utah was founded by Mormon pioneers, and historically the population has been predominantly Mormon. Though there has been a shift in recent years, 42% of the state identifies as a member of the LDS church. Mormonism pervades the culture in Utah in ways that are sometimes hard to see. There are far fewer coffee shops here, for instance, since drinking coffee is considered a sin that will keep you from entering a Mormon temple. Profanity is kept out of everyday language, replaced instead by a series of artificial “curses” such as “heck,” “shiz,” “mother trucker,” and much to Regina George’s dismay, “fetch” did happen in Utah. It’s hard to say that the Mormon religion is the direct cause for the stark increase in suicidality among LGBTQ+ youth in the state, but it’s impossible to have an honest discussion about the topic without addressing the state’s church-originated culture, which provides little solace for youth struggling to find a way to live authentically.

Subscribe now

I applaud the players in my D&D game for attempting, at least initially, to understand and challenge each other’s view. Volatile talking points were brought up, including common arguments used to demonize the opposing group. Very little ground was made by either player as the topic shifted from homosexuality, to sexual harassment, to pedophilia, and ultimately, I had to shut the conversation down as it devolved. Our group can typically handle hot-topic, nuanced discussions—in fact, we’ve found ourselves up until 4am confronting these challenging topics. So, I was disheartened when this conversation turned sour instead of leading to understanding, learning, and growth.

Later, my Mormon friend reached out to me expressing how he was frustrated that the other players could “throw shade” at his beliefs, but couldn’t handle having shade thrown back at theirs. He went on to say he didn’t understand how I could handle interacting with people who don’t share my views or who are otherwise firmly set in their worldview.

For context, I grew up non-Mormon in Utah. I went to a high school that was so dominated by the Mormon church that the curriculum was setup so that you had a free period that correlated with the period that you took seminary, which was held in a building that was about 10 feet from the auditorium and, as far as any onlooker would be concerned, was located on the school campus even if that land was “technically” owned by the church. My high school experience was completely dictated by the societal rules of the church. Dating had to follow the church’s guidelines—no dating until you were 16, and then only group dates—and Mormons have a phrase, “You marry who you date,” which is a simple way of conveying that their youth should not date anyone who doesn’t meet their requirements for temple marriage, meaning non-members. You were considered a good person if you were quiet, docile, obedient, and conformed to what society wanted you to be. Authenticity that did not fit perfectly within the prescribed mold was simply not allowed. God forbid you ever challenged your peers on their beliefs—even asking a simple question outed you as an outsider, leading to ostracization.

I remember watching my best friend—who was an atheist, loud, loved using the “fuck-word,” and was at his core, everything the church culture is against—as he sat hunched over and isolated in our AP Psychology lab while he was surrounded by Mormons. I remember when I ate lunch with him, how only one of my Mormon friends dared sit with us—how she could look past that void of separation and join us. I remember how our Mormon neighbors screamed at him when he pulled up with metal music playing in car, because he had ruined their peaceful evening putting up Christmas lights. He, unlike me, could not put on the Mormon mask, and as a result was shunned by many of our peers. I remember how, slowly, he became distanced more and more from a community who couldn’t engage with someone who was simply different. Our experiences taught us that you either shut up and get in line, or become a recluse.

To my Mormon friend, to all of my Mormon friends, I can live with, converse with, and understand people who don’t share my views because in order to survive growing up around you, I had to learn how to do that. I know you didn’t have to learn that. I know that many Mormons experience only a taste of that on their missions, and, if anything, learn that life is safer when you’re surrounded by your own, who don’t throw shade back at you when you express your thoughts. It must be nice.

In the end, I hope that when interacting with people who don’t share your worldview, whether they’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community, another religion, or otherwise from a different walk of life than you, that maybe, just maybe, you will be able to see that what they have to say, which might be hurtful, or offensive to hear, is coming from a place of fear, of pain, and from a need to be authentically heard. There is a whole person, filled with complexities you may never see, behind those words.

Many clergy saw coffee and its widespread consumption by the common folk as a threat to their power. Beer and alcohol made people drunk and stupid, but coffee stimulated the body. Furthermore, the drink has roots in Yemen, a predominantly Muslim country. As a result, the clergy pleaded with the pope to ban “Satan’s drink.” However, when Pope Clement VIII took a sip of the beverage, he liked it so much he declared it to be a Christian drink.

The religious controversy surrounding coffee would not stop there. In the 1800s, a new adversary to our morning pick-me-up came onto the scene and his name was Joseph Smith. For those of you not in the know, Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church (officially known as the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). Joseph Smith claimed to be a prophet of God who was meant to restore the “one true church” to the world. Counter to Pope Clement VIII, Joseph Smith claimed to have received a revelation from God in February, 1833 now known as the Word of Wisdom where, through Joseph, God said “And again, hot drinks are not for the body or belly.”

Wait…hot drinks? Does that mean iced coffee is okay?

Subscribe now

Well, not exactly. A faithful member of the Mormon church will tell you that their modern presidents have defined this scripture to mean coffee and tea. Iced or not, coffee is seen as a sinful beverage to consume if you are LDS, and doing so will prevent a member from entering their temples and engaging with rituals they believe to be essential to achieve the highest level of exaltation in the afterlife. But don’t worry, hot chocolate is completely okay to drink if you are a Mormon.

I grew up in a fairly secular family while living in what can only be described as Mormonville, Utah. My high school experience looked very different from what we might see at East Highland High School from Euphoria. Instead, of drugs and sex scandals, our social hierarchy was predicated on how well you upheld the legalistic expectations of Mormonism.

Coffee was our alcohol.

Frequently, videos will circulate the internet showcasing how Utah doesn’t have bars and coffee shops, but rather it has soda shops where you can get a mixed coke with a shot of coconut syrup. Other popular videos include interviewers asking Mormon college students if they’d rather kill a puppy or drink a sip of coffee.

In high school, despite not being Mormon, I was terrified of drinking coffee. At the time, there was a collective understanding that the issues with coffee and tea were rooted in their containment of caffeine—a belief that was deeply deeply held to the point where only decaffeinated sodas were allowed at the private LDS university, BYU. Ask a member of the church today, however, and you will be told they never believed that caffeine was sinful and that there was never a doctrinal ban on caffeine. This statement is partially true; the doctrine expressly states “hot drinks are not for the body or belly.” The belief that caffeine was the root for the sinfulness of coffee came from a book ironically titled: Mormon Doctrine. The book, written by a late, high ranking church leader, states:

“It should be remembered that the Lord’s warning against the use of these drinks antedated by many years the discovery of the really injurious nature of them and caffeine, which are the poisonous alkaloids present in tea and coffee, and of the specific physical derangements from divers other physiological effects of these beverages.”

All this to say, drinking a can of regular coke was sinful when I was in high school and you would be looked down upon for doing so. Coffee? Drinking coffee was nearing one of the cardinal sins. Fortunately for my LDS friends, Mitt Romney ran for president and at that time he was photographed drinking from a can of coke, and the church finally made it a point to clarify that Bruce R. McConkie’s book, Mormon Doctrine, was not in fact, Mormon doctrine, and drinking caffeine was no longer a sin.

Now, I’m sure many current believing members of the LDS church will take issue with me for expressing these experiences so flippantly. This then brings us to the point of my Substack. For a long, long time I felt like telling my story would bring the ire of my community. I felt like asking controversial questions would lose me friends and push me to the outskirts of society. In high school, I tried to fit in by becoming a chameleon. To survive I made sure to learn all the Mormon words so I could speak their language and avoid detection as someone “other.” But as I’ve grown, traveled the world, and become confident in who I am, I have decided that it’s time to tell my story.

In my final semester of undergrad, I studied abroad in Italy where I learned from one of our teachers that we should reward ourselves when we succeed in completing our tasks. It didn’t matter if it was a small or big task, or even if it was expected of us. Cheering ourselves on with little treats was important. Naturally, in the streets of Genoa, you will find many cafes. We would get ourselves cappuccinos for our rewards. I grew so much on that trip. I learned to be confident in my own abilities as a filmmaker and a writer. I learned that I could survive on the other side of the world, all alone, and make my way wherever I needed to go. And I learned that coffee was a special way to say to myself, “good job.”

I drink coffee because, whether it’s Satan’s drink or a Christian beverage, I like it, and it as much a part of who I am as my upbringing. So sit back, pour yourself a cup, add some cream and sugar, and let’s unpack what it’s like being a non-Mormon in Mormonville, Utah together.