"No!" he protested. "They'll put me in the question box."
I smiled. Understood. Dropped it. Many former Amish do not reveal their upbringing because they'll be cocooned in questions. Curiosity. Same interrogation.
It's not that they don't embrace their heritage. But most want to be accepted and blend into the new world they chose.
Some former Amish, I know, hang onto this identity. They're stuck in a netherworld of neither fully Amish nor fully English. Enjoying the identity. Circulate within a circle of former Amish. Maintain Amish behaviors. Attitudes. Dress English.
Not Harvey. Never regrets his decision to leave. Has adapted to his new life. Moved on. Loves football. Loves to travel. Works with English. Avoids redundant questions about his growing-up life. Don't tell him but, I still detect a bit of Deutch accent. That just endears him to our family.
I was guilty of endless questions the first time I met the "X-Men" - a name my daughters used referring to a group of former Amish friends. I suffocated them with my curiosity. Andy. Uriah. Dan. Harvey. Mosie, and others. Thankfully, they patiently and calmly answered this writer - and mom's - need to know.
Today, I get it. The tiresome - innocent - questions.
- Are you on Rumspringa?
- How many kids in your family?
- Why'd you leave?
- Are you shunned?
- What work does your father do?
- Are you the only one in the family who left?
- Do your parents know where you are?
- You have a job?
- Can you put on a roof for me?
- Got a car? And to the females,
- Do you clean houses?
Question: How do you act when meeting someone who lived and left the Amish life?
(c)Copyright, 2015. Brenda Nixon.