Once You Go Black….

You know the saying, do I really have to spell it out for you?

So a little tidbit of information that most people don’t know about me (and maybe would be shocked to find out, right Sam?) is that in my dating history are two African-American guys. While this isn’t necessarily the main theme of this post (or maybe it is, I’m not sure yet) it sets up the following story for me.

I am a senior high youth group leader at my church. I absolutely LOVE it. Surprisingly, after a crazy week, it makes me feel better. Despite the drama that ensues when you put 50+ hormonal teenagers in a room together. It’s just awesomely fun and extremely rewarding.

So because of my somewhat crazy/bubbly/outgoing personality, my “main responsibility” (in addition to actually spending time with the teens) on Friday nights is to sign all the kids in. This year, our youth pastor has very graciously given me the assistance of 2 other people, R & M. It’s especially fun because these guys used to be my youth leaders, so you can imagine the harassment I receive. Like when I’m having a rough night and semi-complaining about my roll as a youth leader or about a “difficult” teen, they like to give me ‘the look’ as if to say “Because you were just such an angel when you were their age.” See? Fun!

Anyway, last night was my first night back to youth group since the honeymoon, and boy oh boy, was I harassed. Everyone knows what happens on the honeymoon, but I thought, naively I suppose, that no one really talked about it. Especially in a church setting, around YOUTH. In their defense (hi R & M!) they didn’t talk about it around any kids, but gee whiz! I’ve never been so embarrassed, and that includes the time Jordan Sianni pulled my pants down in front of my entire gym class.

There were snickers, there were innuendos, red cheeks and one seriously embarrassed me. I couldn’t focus on much else besides what was being said. There were breaks throughout the night when people entered the general viscinity in which we were seated, but it was steady and ongoing. You know, semi-traumatizing.

Just as the night is about to end, and I’m getting ready to leave to go home to my husband since I haven’t seen him all day, (”To do what, L?” R lovingly questions) another leader who knows my previously stated dating history, pulled me off to the side and says “You know, I think you’re the only person in documented history who we can say has gone black and still gone back.”

Thanks, D, that was just the icing on the cake.

I’m going home.