Our family are the shadow people-- except for the fact that my husband worked for the diocese for many years and thus happens to know our current pastor. But I doubt that even the pastor is really aware of the ways we struggle. We haven't talked to him about why our high schoolers aren't in confirmation prep classes-- we keep meaning to, but it doesn't happen. And we really aren't complaining or making waves. We don't complain about class times or confession times that don't work for us. We just quietly don't go.
Yes - contrary to myth, it's not at all a situation of who takes their faith seriously. I really appreciate your speaking up for that reason.
My first encounter was with severe morning sickness, back when my husband wasn't Catholic. I discovered that you just disappear.
I think a lot of this is related to how big our parishes are. People may notice you're gone, but for all they know you just switched Mass times. In an example like yours, it's unlikely that, say, the previous grade's catechist has any idea who did or didn't continue on to Confirmation the following year, and the confirmation team doesn't know your child's grade, or whether you received the sacrament elsewhere that it was confirmed earlier, etc.
And who would you talk to about it anyway, unless you're highly extraverted? Your pastor is overworked and you want to respect his time, and while there are plenty of ministry leaders to check in with in order to *get* involved, there's really nobody designated to be the one you check in with when things are falling apart.
Oh goodness yes on the morning sickness. We moved to our current house when we had two small children, aged 2 and 7 months. Within weeks of moving in I found out I was pregnant again and terrible morning sickness. New house, new town, no ability to form community. It took years to start making friends in the new parish. I tried to join a women’s Bible study after the baby was born, but they weren’t tolerant of small children underfoot— not that I blame them exactly, but my children didn’t want to separate from me to be babysat by the older children tasked to play with them.
Our kids have never done parish religious education. It never seemed like a good idea. Of course NOW I know they’re all neurodivergent— late diagnosis better than none at all; but it means we didn’t even fit into the typical narrative for neurodivergent families. When they were little and undiagnosed it just felt impossible to meet all their needs— I couldn’t even articulate their needs and half the time I thought the differences were just in my head. But it was enough that trying to make religious ed work didn’t make sense when homeschooling was going well. Fortunately we had priests willing to accommodate for first communions and reconciliations. Still trying to figure out confirmation though. They don’t like it when you opt out of the formal program for that. The Church still really doesn’t know how to deal with invisible disabilities.
Wanted add an additional thought based on Melanie's comment, since both she & I have a significant online presence of sorts: Not everyone who is "very online" is sharing everything that is going on in their lives.
Whether that is ordinary social media chitchat or my writing or the Bettinelli's various writing and podcasting, even if we are sometimes sharing some personal stories, that doesn't mean that every difficulty or concern is being broadcast -- same as not everyone sitting in the pews is sharing all their private issues with the parish grapevine. But a partial presence (whether that be online or in person) can create an illusion of "nothing else to see here" which of course is never the case for anybody.
Our family are the shadow people-- except for the fact that my husband worked for the diocese for many years and thus happens to know our current pastor. But I doubt that even the pastor is really aware of the ways we struggle. We haven't talked to him about why our high schoolers aren't in confirmation prep classes-- we keep meaning to, but it doesn't happen. And we really aren't complaining or making waves. We don't complain about class times or confession times that don't work for us. We just quietly don't go.
Yes - contrary to myth, it's not at all a situation of who takes their faith seriously. I really appreciate your speaking up for that reason.
My first encounter was with severe morning sickness, back when my husband wasn't Catholic. I discovered that you just disappear.
I think a lot of this is related to how big our parishes are. People may notice you're gone, but for all they know you just switched Mass times. In an example like yours, it's unlikely that, say, the previous grade's catechist has any idea who did or didn't continue on to Confirmation the following year, and the confirmation team doesn't know your child's grade, or whether you received the sacrament elsewhere that it was confirmed earlier, etc.
And who would you talk to about it anyway, unless you're highly extraverted? Your pastor is overworked and you want to respect his time, and while there are plenty of ministry leaders to check in with in order to *get* involved, there's really nobody designated to be the one you check in with when things are falling apart.
Oh goodness yes on the morning sickness. We moved to our current house when we had two small children, aged 2 and 7 months. Within weeks of moving in I found out I was pregnant again and terrible morning sickness. New house, new town, no ability to form community. It took years to start making friends in the new parish. I tried to join a women’s Bible study after the baby was born, but they weren’t tolerant of small children underfoot— not that I blame them exactly, but my children didn’t want to separate from me to be babysat by the older children tasked to play with them.
Our kids have never done parish religious education. It never seemed like a good idea. Of course NOW I know they’re all neurodivergent— late diagnosis better than none at all; but it means we didn’t even fit into the typical narrative for neurodivergent families. When they were little and undiagnosed it just felt impossible to meet all their needs— I couldn’t even articulate their needs and half the time I thought the differences were just in my head. But it was enough that trying to make religious ed work didn’t make sense when homeschooling was going well. Fortunately we had priests willing to accommodate for first communions and reconciliations. Still trying to figure out confirmation though. They don’t like it when you opt out of the formal program for that. The Church still really doesn’t know how to deal with invisible disabilities.
Wanted add an additional thought based on Melanie's comment, since both she & I have a significant online presence of sorts: Not everyone who is "very online" is sharing everything that is going on in their lives.
Whether that is ordinary social media chitchat or my writing or the Bettinelli's various writing and podcasting, even if we are sometimes sharing some personal stories, that doesn't mean that every difficulty or concern is being broadcast -- same as not everyone sitting in the pews is sharing all their private issues with the parish grapevine. But a partial presence (whether that be online or in person) can create an illusion of "nothing else to see here" which of course is never the case for anybody.