Friday Challenge: Crime and Punishment

Today’s challenge is to share an incident where you violated a fundyland rule and what punishment you were meted out.
Honest confession is good for the soul. (and entertaining for the rest of us.)
Posted by Darrell
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Haha, I have so many, but here are two:
One time in elementary school, my class went on a field trip to one of those old submarine museums — the USS Cole, I believe — up in WI. While there, having a penchant for souvenirs as a fourth grade child, I purchased a deck of playing cards. My parents, being the sensible (and independently thinking) parents they were, had never introduced me to the concept that playing cards were sinful, and since I had not been raised in the discipline of such degrees of separation from “the world”, I saw no problem. However, while on the bus, I pulled them out and began looking at them. I thought it would be neat to try to figure out some magic (read: sleight-of-hand) tricks with them. The child in front of me turned around and felt it was his obligation to notify me (and by me, I mean the teacher) of the sinfulness of what I was doing. I’m fairly certain he didn’t even know what he was saying. My teacher, who was also in all honesty a fairly gracious person, confiscated the cards for the sake of the other kid’s conscience, and returned them to me once the trip was over. I was sick to my stomach the whole time though, not knowing what I had done that was so wrong.
More recently, I was at Fundy U (the one where the ESV is okay now, but we still advertise KJV greeting cards
), and I was drawing a picture on my laptop for a story I’ve written. I’ve learned a bit more since my elementary days about how things work though. It was 12:45, and I was fully aware that this was against the rules, but when I’m home I never go to sleep before midnight (I am not a morning person… that’s probably just a coincidence though :p). I’m a programmer, and I’m a night person. An RA from a *different* hall, who apparently has the wonderful habit of walking past rooms at night and getting down on the floor to check for light coming from within, stepped into my room without knocking (I guess I can understand, since it was late, but still… we need locks on the doors or something…) and asked (in the nonchalant, irritatingly patronizing voice that he often uses) whether I realized I was up after midnight. My response was far more gracious than the thoughts running through my head, as I replied, with a slight twinge of intentional irritation in my voice, “Yeah, I know.” He then notified me politely that he was required to write me up for it, to which I responded unaffected with my coldest, “Yeah, ok,” ever. He then awkwardly excused himself, reminding me to go to sleep, and I stayed up another hour or so drawing
I have ceased to care
, realizing that it matters not what others or “the system” thinks of me; this has no bearing on my standing before God (which is pretty freaking sad anyway, without Christ’s righteousness).
I was pretty far into the bible belt when I was a child(at 20 i got the heck outta there) Grew up in King NC and spent most of my time between Calvary Baptist and other churches in the area. Basically if we weren’t at church or school we were being watched by members of the church.
One incident that still stands out in my mind as being ridiculous was when I got in trouble with the one of the deacon’s mother. I was 10 and my favorite movie at the time was Fantasia so I brought it over to watch with my friends. Apparently she disproved because of the parts that depict evolution(the dinosaur musical number), also naked centaurs i guess. So we pop in the movie while we take out homework. Imagine our surprise when she comes dramatically stomping into the room half way through, yanks out the power cord, and demands who brought the movie. All fingers point to me almost immediately. I spend the next hour and a half with my face in a corner and my Disney movie thrown away. I was on the verge of a panic attack because I had no idea what I did wrong, we watched Disney all the time, even at church. She would also sling insults and threats of godly retribution every time she walked by my corner, so that didn’t help. Whats worst is that she sat down with my mother and guilt tripped her into talking with the other mother members of the church about what she bought for her own kids. For anyone unfamiliar with fundamentalist women’s meetings, they’re get togethers where a smaller group of senior members (or women married to the more important male members of the church) bully the other women into doing what they say
I got pregnant before we were married. Had to stand in front of the whole church and confess. ’nuff said.
Old post, I know.
I was spanked at the age of 6 or 7 for calling a girl “bossy”. She went to the teacher and said, “she called me bossy, fat, and ugly”. I never said that nor have any recollection of anyone confirming that statement. I was spanked in my panties. I honestly felt violated-probably because I had to lift my skirt and bend over. After that I felt sorry for the kids who got in trouble.
The worst was “serving as a witness” in the BJ office while offenders were prosecuted. One guy was expelled for drawing a trap set. While I understood the student was disobeying rules, the rule was outrageous! I was in shock.
What is a trap set?
A drum set, a big no-no for fundies like me.
when i was at BJ I probably broke rules daily. Not big ones. Just the ones that were inconvenient, illogical and stupid. I stayed in my room sick one day instead of checking into campus hospital. Because i missed work in the Dining Commons, I got 25 demerits for that and 25 for not checking into Barge.
I never, ever wore pantyhose once winter was over. Too expensive and too hot. I got demerits for that one constantly.
I was called to the dean of women’s office once for not turning in my roommate who had uncheckable music. To make matters worse, i did not have pantyhose on when i went into her office. 25 for not turning in the roomate and a few more again for the hose. Couldn’t really help it i got the slip when i was laying out on the roof of the dorm so i just threw on a skirt and shirt and went.
Because i failed to turn in the roommate, i also was not recommended for Assistant Prayer Captain in my sophomore year, which was unheard of apparently. In addition to a lecture from DOW and a lecture from my Dorm Sup, i was on spiritual probation for a semester.
None of the things i got “in trouble” for were even logical. my parents did not really care about the offenses, they thought it a bit ridiculous.
I only lasted two years there, between the ridiculous cost, the below minimum wage job on campus and the stupid things i was getting in trouble for, I just decided If i was going to go into debt that much i might as well be able to get a real job after.
Wow. This is all just astonishing. You are amazing people for surviving what you have.
Reading this site I’m slowly starting to realise that my childhood was a bit fundie. Not fundy like your folks’ – I guess the Canadian version of fundy. My parents weren’t, but most of our circle, friends, church, etc. was. So I attended a little ACE church-run school from kindergarten to grade 7.
There were only about 25 students at its largest. The school was run by the pastor’s wife, the pastor, a couple ‘supervisors’, and the pastor and wife’s epileptic son who couldn’t get a job anywhere else. Oh, and a terrifying actual qualified teacher who taught two big classes in an actual classroom with a chalkboard (grades 1-4 and 4-8); school legend was that she used to be a prison guard (amazingly, that turned out to be true).
The pastor’s wife was quite possibly one of the sweetest human beings on God’s green earth. She was a fundy in her beliefs, but she was so loving and so optimistic and so unendingly believed the best of *everyone* that she kept the place liveable. The typical ACE curriculum, of course. The typical ACE uniforms; clip on ties for boys, jumpers for girls, skirts and blouses whe the girls got to be teens. Holy those blouses are traumatising to a young girl who is still learning how exactly to wear white clothing when one is becoming used to the idea of having features which can be possibly seen through the white cothing. Yeesh.
Anyway. The prison-guard teacher was scary. I still remember her grabbing a boy by the shoulders and shaking him. But that was the most violence that occurred, thank the Lord.
I got in trouble a few times. I was theoretically one of the good kids: I got along well with teachers, and was, well, a good faker. I’d be the one sent by my friends to make any sort of request or explain any ‘situations’ that might not quite be kosher. I could usualy spin a good tale. But I did get in trouble a few times. One I remember the most was when I brought barbies to school. The teacher took them because apparently under the Barbie’s dress there were nipples. . . . come to think of it, how did the teacher discover that?