Dirty Foot the Dangerous Girl

 


As an infant, my mother observed right away that I didn’t have the same coloring as my two other sisters. Abby and Mindy were light haired, pale blue eyes with alabaster white skin like the Scandinavians on my father’s side of the family. I recall many sunburns over the summers of my childhood- those two being literally the fairest of us all were blistered and slathered with vitamin E reliably. I was born with an abundance of dark wavy hair and green eyes, likely passed genetically from the Smith side of the family who are mostly British and Scottish. Although I also had freakishly pale skin that took a tan only slightly better than my sisters, all it took to mark me as different was having dark hair and green eyes to be set apart from my older sisters. It also didn’t help that my mother took to dressing Abby and Mindy in matching outfits as if they were twins, and that Abby had to have all the things Mindy had or she would melt down into an exhausting tirade. Even had to have her own birthday cake on Mindy’s birthday so she wouldn’t freak out and ruin the entire party. The two oldest sisters were a unit and I was the outsider- the interloper. My mother liked color coding her children. Rather than have her third infant wear the pink pastel dresses and matchy-matchy hand-me-downs my older siblings had outgrown, my mother made a point to outfit me in red because, she would say, red was great for my coloring, whatever that meant. For the entirety of my childhood red was my designated color of the family, whether I liked it or not.

the author circa 1977 pictured with two jackals and their aunt getting married


If you look at early family photos, I look like a neighbor’s kid. Mom once called me a Mexican because my skin had darkened over the summer when I was three. Two thinly fair haired girls dressed identically and then this other tan, thickly-browed girl with freckles and copious hair- I knew I was different even as a small child because my mother told me I was different.

“You got all the Indian blood.” She would say matter-of-factly. Usually, a statement like this was made when wiping a layer or two of dirt from any one of my fast-moving limbs or trying to get me to come indoors at the end of the day or when she had to brush the knots out of my wild long non-blonde hair and I was never sure if it was a compliment or a slight. “I can’t tell if you’re dirty or just tan.” When I was little, I had a tendency to return home without any shoes because I’d taken them off and had forgotten them at the park, at a friend’s, in the gutter, in a tree or at church. I also preferred to be outside of her home whenever possible. My mother christened me with the Indian name “Dirty Foot” because of this behavior she attributed to my vaguely indigenous heritage.

 It was the late 70’s and early 80’s when I was growing up in Utah. I was raised in a perfectly planned suburb 15 miles north of Salt Lake City with a fairly high Mormon saturation where it was acceptable to allow your three year old to walk to the neighbor’s house a few doors down without any escort. Mormons don’t rape or kidnap kids, so it was probably safe, right? My folks settled into a three-bedroom ranch in 1981 with their four children under the age of 10. We had moved from a two bedroom house approximately two blocks from the new one because my mother kept having children and had run out of room, but the new digs were far enough of a distance to require us to change Wards. A Ward is the Mormon word for a small congregation that is grouped into several Wards that are overseen by the Stake leadership. So we still went to the same Stake House (NOT to be confused with a Steak House, which would have been more fun) but switched to the appropriate Ward that attends services at that Stake House, per the district boundaries drawn up by the Stake Priesthood Leadership. It was all organized up to National Levels of Leadership centered in Salt Lake City; the Hub of the Latter Day Saints.  All the perfect looking prefabricated homes with large square lawns with kids playing on the front porches and epically sized gas-guzzling station wagons in the driveways for transporting All the Children lined neverending streets winding eventually into larger tributaries like streams of Mormon waters draining into the larger river of the commerce centers of Layton. Neighborhoods had been constructed in multi-home developments complete with cul du sacs and sidewalks on both sides of the tidily paved streets that were numbered by blocks and not given names that anyone would remember. Mormon planners back then used a grid system- many cities in Utah just have the numerical grid system instead of the typical house number and street names like “Oak Street” or “Maple Lane” like I had seen on TV or read about. 3200 S 750 E was our address. It just doesn’t have any flair to it, does it?

 There were neighbors who weren’t Mormon who we were discouraged from getting to know too well, but this notion of regarding Non-Mormons as perhaps dangerous just made me more curious about worldly people in general, so I seemed to have a large proportion of friends who were outsiders to the Church. I enjoyed how strange and titillatingly unholy their interests were. One lived a few houses down whose mother actually worked outside the home and let her kids watch cable TV whenever they wanted. Her name was Holly, and she had a training bra. I had no idea how breasts needed to be trained, but I was sure my mother wasn’t going to get me one. I had another friend Suzie, whose mother was SINGLE and DIVORCED and Suzie had 2 older brothers who liked KISS and AC/DC, which I knew at the time to be strictly Devil Music that could wash me away into the pit of sin if I listened to it, and to this day I am still too scared to really explore 80’s Hair Metal, for fear of losing my taste for good music. Once, while we were on the swing set at school in second grade, Suzie told me she wanted to be a sex-symbol when she grew up. I was mortified right out of any sense of curiosity at her open use of the S-E-X word, such that I was afraid to ask anyone what a sex-symbol even was for years, ashamed that someone had even said the S-E-X word to me and that I might find out what it meant and again, would be washed away in sin. No wonder I grew up to be such a sinner and a leaver of the Church; the very limited adjacent exposure to Motley Crue and cable TV clearly had a corrosive effect on my purity.

Even as a precious Chosen Child of the Latter Days, I was still fairly unsupervised by today’s standards. I roamed around the cookie-cutter blocks either alone or with friends, only occasionally receiving a glance from a passing adult, who was usually busy doing something else. Kids all knew how to turn on the sprinklers in the yard to cool down when it was hot, and we would gather in the afternoons before dinner to play Kick the Can sometimes with other kids on the street. I don’t have any memories of my mother ever accompanying me to a worldly friend’s houses to at least check what kind of place it was before letting me hang out there- even for sleepovers- it was just assumed that if there was another kid living there, it must inherently be kid-friendly. And in this Utah suburb everyone seemed to have kids who all knew each other and ran in packs as well. I was given a lot of agency in my first 5 years of life, and am grateful for having had that- being able to slip quietly away from the house to climb a tree or wander alone along an irrigation ditch or just amble through the neighborhood with some kind of anonymity and autonomy- though this freedom was granted to me more out of parental neglect than out of good parental judgement- I was an easy kid to miss and I took all the liberty my invisibility provided me. My early escapes were a survival tactic honed early on. Little did I know that the escaping the family unit was actually a long-standing family tradition.

It seemed like a typical American white-kid childhood in the suburbs at the heyday of Reagan and MTV. But like lots of other typical-on-the-outside homes, things indoors were not as perfect as my parents would have liked everyone to know. Part of the culture of a predominantly Mormon community is a collective reinforcement of perfection-performing. It wasn’t just my family; lots of Mormon families in the Ward and in the neighborhood were obviously dysfunctional and many were likely abusive but the pressure to look like the Cleavers with the Priesthood was intensely felt, so the less pleasant presence of family violence, neglect, abuse and general shittiness was buried deep under the guise of some kind of Stepford Family performance, complete with pretty dresses, Relief Society potlucks and the collective faith that the Priesthood, which was in everyone’s home, would guide us all to the Celestial Kingdom if we followed it properly. Did all the handshakes and wore the right underwear. It would paper over some of the other problems that come with growing up in a patriarchal, insular culture.

Parentification of children is one of the more toxic characteristics of the Mormon upbringing, especially for girls. It’s recognized today as child abuse because it wreaks havoc on a person’s ability to have a fully developed childhood since they are taking care of other children instead of themselves. I realize there are many other cultures that press young girls into taking care of siblings due to poverty and the lack of acceptable childcare in the community. There are reasons other family members are asked to step in and help with the littler ones in a family. Since the advent of birth control, women can now actually choose how many kids they have- there doesn’t have to be a lifetime of unchecked births if you don’t want it. That was the whole point of the Pill. Then, there are the Catholics. But at least they have God-parents to help out with the zillions of kids churned out by silly religious notions of sacred sperms. Mormons expect their daughters to do the extra parenting help since childcare providers are all that girls are destined to become. I think most Catholic women in the US are generally not discouraged from having educations and careers in addition to a family, although I am also pretty sure lots of Catholic women use birth control, too. Because when it comes down to it, kids are expensive and take a long time to get out of the house, while there’s always room for absolution and forgiveness in the eyes of the Catholic Lord if you don’t want to have 12 kids and decide to put on a rubber sometimes.

There were a couple of reasons that parentification was particularly destructive in my father’s house. One reason was Abby. The eldest. It’s probably not that bad to have your main babysitter be the oldest child- it happens all the time. Eldest kids have a higher standard of caretaking expectations put on them just because of their birth order. My darling boyfriend was an eldest, as were both of my parents. First-born kids, as a result of their exposure to more adult settings in early childhood and then being designated more responsibility in the family as an older part of the family, tend to be generally more responsible as adults. Although I suspect it’s also likely that the “first pancakes” are the ones that are most likely to get burned by inexperienced parents. I still am not sure what the fuck happened with Abby in her infancy before the rest of us came along, but for as long as anyone can recall, she was a completely burned pancake who was not content unless everyone else in the house was also burned. My parents chose to believe she was just born difficult which enabled her bad behavior and put the responsibility for bearing her abuse on all of the children as if we were martyrs to the family whole. As if petulance, histrionics and tantrums were a genetic disorder one is just born with, like epilepsy or Type 1 diabetes. As if she was simply born miserable by no fault of her parents, Abby was a screaming basket case whose tattered wicker lid was always about to slide off and it was our purpose in life to deal with her never-ending chaos. Later we would come to realize she was most likely suffering from Borderline Personality Disorder, but the reality is that WE were suffering from HER Borderline Personality Disorder. Part of the diagnosis is having a special way of making people around you miserable while also refusing to do anything to prevent it by taking medication or going to therapy or even admitting that you’re an asshole most of the time for no reason whatsoever.  I don’t think there was ever an actual diagnosis because that would have required her to relent to professional help for reasons other than getting attention via a fake suicide attempt or scoring more pain pills. Whatever it was, it was a very large entity in our home. Abby’s emotional terrorism started with me as teasing and bullying, and then graduated into the delight of eliciting fear responses in an array of creative and shitty ways. Once Abby realized she could make be scared of something, making me afraid was a popular activity that bonded her to my other elder sister and made both of them feel powerful over me, for sure. Ganging up to pick me apart was a family tradition started by Abby and Mindy, and practiced on me with increasing effectiveness clear through adulthood up until the last time I ever spoke to either of them. As long as those two jackals were in the house, I always had cause to make scarce.

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