“Sister Monica, I really see you working in a flower shop, or something like that.” I was having a conversation with Pastor Kind about my day job as a hairdresser, I had a rather large clientele, and paid for my own college and apartment. No way could I pay for college if I had a minimum wage job. But I was between hair and a hard place, how could I be holy if I was chopping off women’s spiritual coverings all day long?
I can’t imagine what my coworkers thought at the salon as I suddenly started showing up in long skirts with no makeup and uncut hair. I still tried to dress as stylishly as possible, but COME ON, this had to stick out like a nun in a nudist colony.
This was tough. All my life, I had aspired to be a professional singer and play with a band. I loved the creativity and complexity of jazz, and the balls-out energy of rock, and funk that grooves so hard it moves your body for you. Music was my life. At age 6 I was at a wedding with my parents, a little bundle of overactive energy that never shut up (I know you’re not surprised). I approached the band boldly. “I can sing that song!” “Would you like to?”
And, just like that, there I was singing Bobby Vinton to a crowd of wide-eyed onlookers, including my parents, who had no idea that I had no fear of getting up in front of people. I belted out that cheesy song in my cute little red flowered sundress and I was hooked. I LOVED the stage, and I loved crafting a song and performing, even that young, I knew this is what I wanted.
I was a bullied bookworm through my elementary and middle school years, and would spend hours in my room singing songs and pretending to be performing. Today when people ask me how I do what I do, the answer is… I’ve already done this a million times in my room as long as I can remember, the only difference now is I’m on stage. I would perform everything to my imaginary audience, from cheezy 70’s ballads, which I STILL love, to the entire Crystal Ball album by Styx (bandpals, if you’re reading this YES I wanna cover Crystal Ball, please.)
Back to reality, here I was having the conversation that was the beginning of the end of my college career. The band life I wanted to pursue was chock-full of worldliness, so I put my heart and soul into being a worship leader instead. So, I said goodbye to the university for the moment, always with the intent that I would go back when I could afford it. I wish I had known then… “when I can afford it” is the death toll for many dreams. Today, my mantra is more like “bust down walls and tear down buildings till I make a damn way”, but we have a looot of story before that happens.
I did quit my job as a hairdresser, quit college, and found an entry level job at a bank. During the time I submitted to this belief about women’s hair having some sort of spiritual significance, I worked at a dry cleaner, a bank, and damn if I didn’t actually wind up working at a freaking flower shop.
None of them paid well enough for me to go back to college. Besides, I was VERY busy at church. Church services were twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday, extra Bible studies and prayer services, and social gatherings (fellowship is the word, to this day I think only churches use this archaic term) and week after week, I was being trained in submission and obedience.
Speaking of which…this is where my problems started with being a woman.
Worship Leader Gone Wild 