This Friday, I was invited back to the church youth group of my... youth, as an esteemed speaker. A little over 10 years since Jon and I were Adam and Eve in a church summer camp production, we came together again to give a talk to middle and high schoolers about identity.
Sitting there in the youth room and witnessing the shrieking during the ice breaker, I turned to Mrs. Cho, the same sarcastic counselor of my youth, and asked, "How does this not make you feel old?" "I do," she said, "every week." She wore Velcro DC sneakers and a hooded sweatshirt that night, prompting many smart remarks from us on her skate park ways. And a lot more not-as-smart jibes from the youths.
Judge not, that ye be not judged. This morning, sitting on a pew at my father's church (not to be confused with church of youth or Pastor Paul's church... I was in many houses of worship this weekend), one of my own youth group kids came up to me and passed judgment on me, my kicks, and my entire identity.
"I thought you were a skater boy."
"I'm wearing an orange cardigan and a pea coat-"
"And you sound tired."
"Thanks."
"I'm just saying, I saw your sneakers and your hair and I thought you were a skater boy."
"Really, thank you."
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