You were talking with your co-worker behind the desk as I sat and read in my chair and waited for my appointment.  You wanted help in remembering a certain reality show on T.V. and I assisted in naming the little children on that show.  This drew me into your up to then 2-way discussion.  I went back to my reading as you morphed into a discussion about the 19 Kids and Counting show.  I listened as I read.

You thought they were such a wonderful family.  Aren’t those girls just great!  And happy too.  You praised what you saw on T.V. as though what you saw was and is unequivocally true.  Your discussion touched on various points on how wonderful a family life like that is and though it might not be everyone’s cup of tea you certainly didn’t see a thing wrong with it.  In fact, more families should be like that.

I sat and pondered the opportunity.  I’d look up from time to time and you’d be including me in the discussion just by making eye contact with me.  I’d think to myself, ‘Just read.  Don’t bother.’  Until I decided maybe, just maybe I could add to the discussion just a bit.  So I mentioned that for me I wondered if the girls preferred higher education if they’d be allowed?  You seemed immediately defensive.

Maybe they don’t want higher education.

That’s true I chimed in but I’m not sure it is an option for them.

Well they are becoming midwives.  This was to prove that they did have an education.

I agreed.  I talked about their community and how being a midwife would likely be handy.

It seemed my comment was a bit testy for you.  You commented they are happy.

I said, yes, they look happy.  I wonder what life is like after the camera’s are off.

You made a case that the show is a “reality” show and clearly shows their “reality.”  That reality includes a happy well-adjusted family with excellent morals and ethics.

I emphasized again that we don’t know all of their “reality” because we only see what is edited and put on T.V..  You bristled.  Your voice elevated.  I had entered into a war . . . again.

You abrasively told me that this kind of life style was wonderful and you’d give anything to be a part of a family like that.

I maintained a level voice, and inquiring voice and continued.  I talked about how they were part of the Quiverfull movement.  That they lived in a Christian patriarchal society.

You had never heard of the  Quiverfull and shot back that if the society worked for them so what?

I shared that I wondered if it does work for them.  How would we know?  The children were raised in it, perhaps indoctrinated.

You shot back that we were all indoctrinated by our parents.

I continued sharing that I’d still be interested in knowing if one of those girls wanted to be a doctor if her family would let her.  That I myself knew something of being in a patriarchal Christianity and had concerns that these girls would not be allowed to do so.

Your face was red and you looked completely miffed.

You said maybe they don’t want to be doctors.

I said that could be the case but I wondered if they did, would they in fact know that they could?  Or, would they have to give up their family if they did in fact want to be doctors?  Would their families shun them for stepping outside the family faith.

You looked at me like I was a wing-nut.  Your co-worker had stopped participating long ago and continued to look at me supportingly.

As I tried to continue with my reading you very much were at loose ends.  You kept doing Dugger apologetics and I kept on wondering aloud.

Then you mentioned how well behaved the children were and how great it is to see kids obey their parents today.

I nodded my head affirmatively and remarked that when one fears hell obedience comes easy.

Oh crap, good grief I stepped into it with that comment.  I followed up with, I know what it is to fear hell.

You doubted that hell had anything to do with it.

I shared with you what they believe theologically.

So what?!  I feared my parents!  If I had done any drugs or anything like that I’d be in trouble.  Fearing them kept me from doing drugs and stuff like that.  Then you told me at least they didn’t do drugs and alcohol.  That they were good kids.  Better they be in that society then on heroin or cocaine.

At that time I gave up.  I let your words hang in the air and went back to my reading.

Just over two weeks later the news about Josh Duggar hit the media airwaves.  At that moment I thought about this “timely?” conversation I’d had and whether she even thought about it herself.