October 18, 2007 – October 26, 2007
I haven’t
really talked much about what the Missionary Training Center trains
missionaries to do, aside from speak a foreign language. I’ll explain some of
that here.
The MTC is all
about turning shy, scared young people into outgoing, enthusiastic Gospel
teachers. Some missionaries arrive on their missions basically ready to go, and
the MTC just makes sure they have the right doctrinal knowledge and sets them
loose on the mission field. These missionaries are naturally open, bubbly, relatable
people. I was not one of those missionaries, unfortunately. I considered myself
a quieter, more reflective person. I really wanted to be a missionary, but doing
so usually meant putting myself well outside my comfort zone.
One of the
biggest personality hurdles throughout my entire mission was learning to talk
to strangers on the street about my religion. Missionaries do this all the
time, in most places. They’ll walk right up to you, stop you on the sidewalk,
and just strike up a conversation about God, families, church, and other
things. From the very beginning, this was one of the hardest things for me to
get used to.
In the MTC, pretty
much the only people you ever see are instructors and other missionaries.
Everyone’s the same religion, so you can’t exactly go looking for people to
teach about your church. Instead, every missionary gets taught to just randomly stop
other missionaries they don’t know on the campus and role-play a mock street
contact. Missionaries try to do this regularly, so that it’s not such a big
deal once they get out in the field and do it for real. Even just role-playing
was really hard for me, though. I never knew what to say; I felt awkward
stopping people who looked like they had somewhere to go or something to do,
and I was scared of rejection.
Actually, we
did a lot of role-play in the MTC. While we were learning the lessons that
missionaries generally teach to investigators (people interested in the
church), we would practice explaining the different principles with our
missionary companions or our instructors, switching back and forth between
being the teacher and the supposedly-uninformed investigator. Sometimes we
would also practice teaching to volunteers, non-missionaries that came to the
MTC so that missionaries could practice teaching someone that wasn’t studying
the lessons every day.
I had a really
hard time teaching. My mind would blank; I would get hung up on parts of the
lesson that I didn’t think I’d explained very clearly. I had a hard time
simplifying what I thought were pretty complicated topics into words that
non-church members would understand. I was a bit of a perfectionist and got
frustrated when I didn’t do as well as I wanted.
One day, Elder
Stojic and I were teaching a group of eight volunteers at the MTC. All eight of
them had been missionaries themselves, having recently returned from Argentina,
so they also spoke fluent Spanish. I was really intimidated. I couldn’t help
thinking that whatever I said, these returned missionaries would know a better
way to have said it. I did my best to try to teach the principles we’d
prepared, but I kept getting stuck and embarrassed, so I relied on Elder Stojic
a lot. He was completely the opposite of me then. Somehow, he thrived on this
kind of environment. He spoke to those mock investigators as though he were
meeting a big group of old friends. He taught in three sentences what I’d tried
fruitlessly to explain in three minutes of convoluted Spanish.
Elder Stojic.
I was relieved
that we didn’t look totally stupid in front of this group of experts, but I was
also selfishly bitter about how well it had gone for him, while going so badly
for me. I wrote in my journal:
I
still don’t understand why he’s such a better teacher than I am. I study so
hard and try to make use of all my time, … yet he still makes me look like I’ve
been here 5 weeks fewer than him when we teach. I wish I could figure out what
the difference is so I could work on it. Part of it probably is pride, but I
sincerely want to improve myself for the sakes of those in Veracruz, and he
obviously has something I don’t….
At that point,
as during much of my mission, I really struggled with my attitude. I took being
a missionary so seriously; I was so convinced that missionary work was just a
bunch of hard work that I missed out on opportunities to enjoy myself and make
other people happy. Looking back, I’m able to say that I had success as a
missionary, but I know I’d have had much more if I could have just been more relaxed.
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