trailertrash -or - whilte trash attempts to inflitrate upscale Town congregation.
When I was serving in my first congregation (30 years ago) as senior Minister. (Note: my religious affilation - at this time - had fully ordained women since well into the last Millennium -it was progressive.) My organist (organ player / music minister) was really ailing, crippling arthritus. She chose to retire. I began searching for a new organist.
I auditioned a handfull of candidates. The field of candidates was very small, since my congregation was in a realtivly isolated rural region of the state. Every candidate could belt out a few of the 'moldy and oldie' tunes that the dying generation was clinging to. One musician, however, stood head and shoulders above all the others. A truly gifted and acomplished musician, she played the stately pipe organ and made it sing. Her command of the instrument was marevlious. The organ sang and sang. Additionally, she would bring to the table an excellent portofolio of classical music as well as an expanded set of traditional pieces. None of us had ever heard that pipe organ voice its full range before. Awesome. A number of yuppies (four out of five) on the music committe were elated.
They, too, loved her 'presence' when playing. They respected her degree from the Eastman School of Music. And they were in awe of her playing. The chairperson of the music committe and I, prior to the monthly meeting of the Administriaive Board, (Ruling body of congregation), phoned and discussed the candidate with the people on the Board. When the Board formally met, they seemed happy, some even excited, with the quality of musician we were about to bring on board. Then one of the Board members asked where she (the candidate) lived. I was so naive. I was taken aback by the intensity of the 'concerns' (hostility veiled under a veneer of religious-speak /double-speak?/) some members used, and kept coming back to as discussion continued.
She lived in the trailer park at the edge of town. White trash, trailer trash, etc became a significat part of the conversation about her. The Chosen are blessed, so they can't be living in a trailer park! Some of their comments were so diametrically opposed to both the basic principles upon which the congregation existed, and the foundational teachings of our faith, that I was shocked. I felt terror, shame, and grief. I did not cry at that meeting. I prefer a consensus model of group process, and of decision making. No consensus was possible here. The vampire that is in all of us was bearing its fangs. Roberts rules to the rescue. A very comfortable majority, (over 2/3s), approved her appointement for one year. I thought I knew these people. Worst of all, was this fine musician had to sit, answer questions, and listen to herself discussed in such a manner. She must have been mortified.
I'm not fond of judging a book by its cover. (You do know what a book is, don't you?) Lady with two toddlers, abandoned by her childrens father, attempts to rebuild her life, nuture her boy and girl, and re-connect with her love of music. Sounds like a quality person to me.
But others dont see the person, they see the cover: she lives in the trailer park, is white, so she must be whilte trash, yes? I'll bet she even got food stamps, what a leech!