Leaving Dilaram was not quite as difficult as I thought. When Skip and Pam left in disgrace David and Debbie Shute took the reins. David was the worst kind of homophobic intolerant fundamentalist Christian. He was rude, disrespectful of others, controlling, bossy and dictatorial. He was a jerk. An asshole. And yes, Dave, I am using your real name. SO SUE ME!!!!
I basically coped. I was not able to continue with my college education. I had run out of money and my father, wanting to save money to build a new house, was not exactly forthcoming and Canada Student Loan did not seem very promising either. I began looking for work. The only thing that looked promising was doing yet another turn at the post office for Christmas, my third and last time there.
I lay low. I read. I did my shifts on the crisis line (usually the only one willing and available), did my time at the counselling centre in the West End as well as in a similar venue in Gastown. I behaved myself and kept my mouth shut. People I thought of as close friends began to move out. I was feeling alone, unsupported and nervous.
I was reading Canadian literature, notably the novels of Margaret Lawrence. This was interesting and hugely useful to me. I really got a sense of what it must have been like for my parents, notably my mother, growing up. I was also intrigued with how infused her books were with evidences of God's grace and of how no one else in Dilaram save those who had the forethought to leave in good time would understand or appreciate, much less agree with me.
Under Jeff\s positive influence I became increasingly interested in Christian social justice work, peace making and activism. With his help I was introduced to the Mennonite House Church where I would be worshiping every Sunday for another year, literally from New Year to New Year. My life was changing and I knew it. I was seeking employment and a place to live, both fruitless searches.
Dan and Helen returned January 16, 1979. I was less than enthused to see them and I think they knew this. Dan became particularly hostile and dictatorial. I was rudely chastised for not being on hand to help with moving furniture (no one had informed me that I would be needed and I was busy looking for a job). On the following Saturday a friend of mine invited me to Whistler with him for the day. I returned in the evening and was immediately called into a meeting. It turned out that the leadership of Dilaram and discerned together that I was a threat to their community and that I must leave immediately, that very same night, so the contamination I carried with me would be cleaned out. They quoted me some scriptures out of context and told me that my life would always be fruitless and bleak. They put a curse on me. I phoned my mother. She asked me to come that evening and stay with her for as long as I needed.
I am still carrying scars from the trauma.
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