I was in the 11th grade when I started to seriously ponder the subject of religion.  I had been studying eastern religions as I’ve always found the traditional Christian practices to be insipid and their sermons to be lacking in intellectual stimulation.  I arrived home one day and was met by none other than the Mormon missionaries.  They were engaging and eager to win my trust.  They asked if my parents were home and I explained they were not but that they could teach me.  They came into my home and as I listened to them I felt that their teachings had a very logical flow to it.  Two weeks later I was baptized.  I walked over a mile everyday to go to seminary, I read the scriptures everyday, and I talked with people I knew at school about the gospel.  I was quickly made a stake missionary and started teaching other converts.  I was excited to be a part of what I considered to be the absolute truth.  As a black Mormon I didn’t mind being in the minority.  My ward brothers and sisters seemed to be accepting of me and I was accepting of them.  In fact when I first joined there was a diverse body of members in the Ward.  I felt as if I had found my home.  


I was a committed and devote Mormon.  I attended Church every Sunday, paid a full tithe, and attended the Temple regularly.  I held positions as Ward Mission Leader, Ward Clerk, Young Men’s President, and Seminary Teacher.  I fasted on fast Sunday and gave numerous talks in Sacrament.  I was a black beacon of light in the Ward.  I had a rich social life with other faithful church and I did my home teaching regularly.  I was very comfortable with the Church and thought I would never forsake it’s teachings.


As I started to mature in critical thinking there were things about the church that didn’t settle well with me. The one that stands out the most is the advisory against interracial marriage found in the priesthood manual.  This lead me to wonder why this was the advisory.  I stumbled across the journal of discourses and read comments by Brigham young that are racist toward black people.  From there I was able to find racist doctrine being taught by men I considered to be prophets, seers, and revelators.  I then discovered that one of the teachers of the insidiously condemning doctrines was no other than my favorite apostle Bruce R. McConkie.  

My faith was shaken but not shattered.  I knew there had to be a reasonable explanation for this.  My love for the church was so powerful that I could not conceive of betrayal.  However emotionally connected to the church I was, I was unable to ignore the inevitable choice that was in front of me.  I could seek out the truth or I could blindly follow the prophet.  My intelligence commanded me to seek out the truth of these things.  I studied the LDS and non LDS views on the history of racism in the church.  My study was intended to find answers but only led to more questions.  At length I decided to employ the assistance of older men who I considered to be wiser at that time.  The generic responses to my sincere questions made me think they either were hiding their guilt or too fickle to get serious about racism.  


I ended up with 37 questions on the subject of racism and other matters connected to the doubts that generated in my mind as a result of my study.  I took these questions to my bishop thinking he would have the insight and know how to address these matters.  When he proved inadequate I decided that I had completely lost faith in the teachings of the church.  To maintain faith in Mormonism would be to deny my own awareness.  In denying that awareness I fear I would have done irreparable damage to my self esteem.  Unable to resolve obtain adequate answers to my questions and unwilling to cripple my own spirit I was compelled to leave the church.  I could not call myself a man and maintain membership with an organization that practices such deceit and teaches doctrines denigrating to the human soul.  I loved the church but I loved the truth more.