Why 'admitting' you are a Christian at work is so very hard
Apr 13, 2014 22:38:05 GMT -5
Post by bloodbought on Apr 13, 2014 22:38:05 GMT -5
This is a news article I found interesting, particularly in light of the recent happenings at Mozilla. Any of you ever have a problem at work because of your faith?
Why 'admitting' you are a Christian at work is so very hard
'Coming out' of the Christian closet at work is made so much tougher than it should be by colleagues' bizarre reactions, argues Helen Coffey, who wishes people wouldn't ask her about sex before marriage
In the Evangelical Alliance's most recent survey about Christians at work, 53 per cent said they thought that they could get into trouble for saying what they believe in a professional context.
By Helen Coffey1:04PM BST 31 Mar 2014
Once upon a time, a good friend of mine worked on the fashion desk at a women's glossy magazine. By day, she tried to convince insane models and even more insane photographers to channel their artistic temperaments into creating credible fashion shots. But by night, she was a Secret Christian, or ‘SC’ – regularly attending church, leading services, and even (gasp) sitting on her church council.
No one at the office knew of her scandalous double life. Work and personal life were separate and, just like Hannah and her escort persona Belle de Jour in the Secret Diary of a Call Girl series, she made the decision that “never the twain shall meet”. But, as time went on, it became harder and harder to cover up her God-squad alter-ego. It required a high level of mental dexterity to remember to say, “Just dinner with a friend” when asked what her evening plans were, instead of, “Just dinner and a Bible study”. When she booked a week off in the summer to volunteer at a Christian children's holiday club, it felt wrong to mutter “Oh, maybe Sicily,” upon being questioned on her time-off plans. Habitually lying, even just by omission, was taking its toll.
And so it was that she eventually “came out” of the Christian closet. Whatever she'd been expecting in terms of reaction from her colleagues, she certainly hadn’t envisioned that she'd come into work the next day to find a picture of Jesus suddenly proudly pinned to the “Wall of Hot Men” – a notice board where the team put up photos of celebrities they fancied. Most likely their bizarre way of showing they cared, it still felt a bit odd and unnecessary – because what she'd really been hoping for was no reaction at all.
“You go to church? What, like, every Sunday?” the art director asked incredulously. In my friend's own words, “It was as curious to them as if I had said that I liked painting my face green at the weekend.”
The fear that informs most SCs' decision to stay in the closet at work, is not that they will be mocked or “persecuted” (a word I think is bandied about far too often in relation to British Christians, considering nobody's dying or being thrown in prison). Put simply they worry they will be treated differently.
As an openly practising Christian myself, I too don’t wish to be treated unusually in the office because of my faith. I don't want people to start apologising to me when they drop the f-bomb (why would that be more insulting to me than anyone else in the room? Why?). I don't want people to abruptly stop talking when I walk into the canteen, because they're in the middle of a story about how they got drunk and flashed a coach-load of Japanese tourists the night before and worry whether I would approve. I'm the same person I always was. I haven't had a lobotomy overnight. And any colleagues attempting to modify their behaviour so that I don't feel uncomfortable, ironically just serves to alienate me further.
On the other hand, this is probably preferable to the other typical response – asking as many rude, obnoxious and downright personal questions as you like.
There's an incredible scene in series three of reality show Made in Chelsea, where bad boy Spencer Matthews is on a first date with Kimberley Garner, a ridiculously good-looking Christian (who the gang have somehow “picked up” outside a West London church). He comes out with quite possibly the rudest question ever posed by anybody in the history of dating – based on solely on his ‘understanding’ of her faith: “You ooze sexiness… But I was under the impression you were a virgin?” In fact, it is so rude it's actually hilarious – the kind of thing someone who has been brought up by wolves and never socially interacted with human beings before would say.
But still. This type of thing is actually not as uncommon as you'd think. People I have a nodding acquaintance with, because I included them in the office tea run one time, are perfectly happy to ask whether or not I believe in sex before marriage. They don't know my surname, but feel they are justified in asking about my number of sexual partners. It's just plain weird.
So it's no surprise to me that in the Evangelical Alliance's most recent survey about Christians at work, 53 per cent said they thought that they could get into trouble for saying what they believe in a professional context. A surprisingly high 85 per cent said that most people at work know they're a Christian, which doesn't tally with my experience at all – but makes a lot more sense when you see that, of the 1,500 or so survey respondents, only about 20 per cent work in the private sector. (Having worked on both sides, it feels much less daunting to tell your friendly third sector co-workers than it does your corporate colleagues, let me tell you.) When it comes to banking, advertising and the media industries, the people I know tend to keep their head down when it comes to the C word.
What then, should you do if someone at work “comes out” to you? It's simple. The same rules apply as if they were coming out of the regular closet – listen, be supportive, and then DON'T TREAT THEM ANY DIFFERENTLY. That's it. Oh, and make sure you still say f*** in front of them once in a while.
link
Why 'admitting' you are a Christian at work is so very hard
'Coming out' of the Christian closet at work is made so much tougher than it should be by colleagues' bizarre reactions, argues Helen Coffey, who wishes people wouldn't ask her about sex before marriage
In the Evangelical Alliance's most recent survey about Christians at work, 53 per cent said they thought that they could get into trouble for saying what they believe in a professional context.
By Helen Coffey1:04PM BST 31 Mar 2014
Once upon a time, a good friend of mine worked on the fashion desk at a women's glossy magazine. By day, she tried to convince insane models and even more insane photographers to channel their artistic temperaments into creating credible fashion shots. But by night, she was a Secret Christian, or ‘SC’ – regularly attending church, leading services, and even (gasp) sitting on her church council.
No one at the office knew of her scandalous double life. Work and personal life were separate and, just like Hannah and her escort persona Belle de Jour in the Secret Diary of a Call Girl series, she made the decision that “never the twain shall meet”. But, as time went on, it became harder and harder to cover up her God-squad alter-ego. It required a high level of mental dexterity to remember to say, “Just dinner with a friend” when asked what her evening plans were, instead of, “Just dinner and a Bible study”. When she booked a week off in the summer to volunteer at a Christian children's holiday club, it felt wrong to mutter “Oh, maybe Sicily,” upon being questioned on her time-off plans. Habitually lying, even just by omission, was taking its toll.
And so it was that she eventually “came out” of the Christian closet. Whatever she'd been expecting in terms of reaction from her colleagues, she certainly hadn’t envisioned that she'd come into work the next day to find a picture of Jesus suddenly proudly pinned to the “Wall of Hot Men” – a notice board where the team put up photos of celebrities they fancied. Most likely their bizarre way of showing they cared, it still felt a bit odd and unnecessary – because what she'd really been hoping for was no reaction at all.
“You go to church? What, like, every Sunday?” the art director asked incredulously. In my friend's own words, “It was as curious to them as if I had said that I liked painting my face green at the weekend.”
The fear that informs most SCs' decision to stay in the closet at work, is not that they will be mocked or “persecuted” (a word I think is bandied about far too often in relation to British Christians, considering nobody's dying or being thrown in prison). Put simply they worry they will be treated differently.
As an openly practising Christian myself, I too don’t wish to be treated unusually in the office because of my faith. I don't want people to start apologising to me when they drop the f-bomb (why would that be more insulting to me than anyone else in the room? Why?). I don't want people to abruptly stop talking when I walk into the canteen, because they're in the middle of a story about how they got drunk and flashed a coach-load of Japanese tourists the night before and worry whether I would approve. I'm the same person I always was. I haven't had a lobotomy overnight. And any colleagues attempting to modify their behaviour so that I don't feel uncomfortable, ironically just serves to alienate me further.
On the other hand, this is probably preferable to the other typical response – asking as many rude, obnoxious and downright personal questions as you like.
There's an incredible scene in series three of reality show Made in Chelsea, where bad boy Spencer Matthews is on a first date with Kimberley Garner, a ridiculously good-looking Christian (who the gang have somehow “picked up” outside a West London church). He comes out with quite possibly the rudest question ever posed by anybody in the history of dating – based on solely on his ‘understanding’ of her faith: “You ooze sexiness… But I was under the impression you were a virgin?” In fact, it is so rude it's actually hilarious – the kind of thing someone who has been brought up by wolves and never socially interacted with human beings before would say.
But still. This type of thing is actually not as uncommon as you'd think. People I have a nodding acquaintance with, because I included them in the office tea run one time, are perfectly happy to ask whether or not I believe in sex before marriage. They don't know my surname, but feel they are justified in asking about my number of sexual partners. It's just plain weird.
So it's no surprise to me that in the Evangelical Alliance's most recent survey about Christians at work, 53 per cent said they thought that they could get into trouble for saying what they believe in a professional context. A surprisingly high 85 per cent said that most people at work know they're a Christian, which doesn't tally with my experience at all – but makes a lot more sense when you see that, of the 1,500 or so survey respondents, only about 20 per cent work in the private sector. (Having worked on both sides, it feels much less daunting to tell your friendly third sector co-workers than it does your corporate colleagues, let me tell you.) When it comes to banking, advertising and the media industries, the people I know tend to keep their head down when it comes to the C word.
What then, should you do if someone at work “comes out” to you? It's simple. The same rules apply as if they were coming out of the regular closet – listen, be supportive, and then DON'T TREAT THEM ANY DIFFERENTLY. That's it. Oh, and make sure you still say f*** in front of them once in a while.
link