As a Latter-day Saint woman, I’ve been heard, valued and empowered for decades

Missionaries sing during a missionary conference in Lusaka, Zambia, on Thursday, Feb. 23, 2023.
Missionaries sing during a missionary conference in Lusaka, Zambia, on Thursday, Feb. 23, 2023.

Editor’s note: This essay by Carolynn Clark is part of an ongoing Deseret News series exploring ideas and issues at the intersection of faith and thought.

At the March 17 worldwide Relief Society broadcast of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Sister J. Annette Dennis shared, “There is no other religious organization in the world, that I know of, that has so broadly given power and authority to women. There are religions that ordain some women to positions such as priests and pastors, but very few relative to the number of women in their congregations receive that authority.”

Rather than an outlier comment, this teaching aligned with the desire President Camille Johnson shared with all Relief Society sisters to have “access to all the blessings of a covenant relationship with God, including His priesthood power available to those who make covenants in the house of the Lord.” Sister Kristin Yee likewise invited all women in attendance to “learn all you can about accessing His covenant blessing of priesthood power.”

While there was plenty of positive response to this event, that remark from Sister Dennis was highlighted by a number of women online with concerns. Some felt their voices had been heard by male church leaders, while others felt “disempowered” by not holding priesthood office in the Church, even if they were being encouraged to more fully exercise priesthood authority and access priesthood power through covenant relationships, as was repeatedly emphasized this weekend again.

Without dismissing the perspectives of these women, I want to add my own experience to this important conversation.

I am a lifelong member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My experiences with the church in many respects have been very ordinary. And, at the same time, when I think of the ways in which I have been asked to serve in the church throughout my life, my experiences have been nothing short of empowering.

As a Primary child, I was asked like everyone else from time to time to speak at the pulpit to other children and adults in the Primary and to the congregation as a whole. As a shy and quiet child, this was a challenge for me, but it taught me that someone wanted to hear what I had to say.

As a young teen, I served in presidencies in the Young Women organization for my age groups, sometimes as president, sometimes as a counselor, where I learned early on not only that I could lead, but that leadership was an act of service and a responsibility.

These experiences likely helped me feel, as a full-time missionary in Korea at the age of 21, that I could speak out when I saw things that could be improved. My willingness to share ideas of how to improve was appreciated by my mission president.

I was asked to lead again when I was called as a Relief Society president at the age of 26 in my young single adult ward. I was responsible, in conference with the bishop, for the spiritual and physical well-being of dozens of sisters under my care.

Since then, I have had countless opportunities to speak to congregations, teach Sunday school classes and lead in other capacities. I really cannot think of any other religious organization in which I would have had, as an ordinary member and from such a young age, the same opportunities to lead and to teach.

When finishing my post-law master’s degree, my thesis touched upon a policy consideration the Church of Jesus Christ had not adopted. My thesis advisor, not a member of the church, suggested that I reach out to church leadership to discuss my proposal — an idea that, as an ordinary member, I had never considered. I swallowed hard and called the office of then Elder Dallin H. Oaks, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of the Church at the time. To my surprise, he personally called me back, set up a meeting with me, and discussed my proposal in depth. Was I distressed that the church did not immediately adopt my idea? No. Did I feel listened to and taken seriously? Without question.

These opportunities, when taken as a whole, have helped me feel valuable and have developed me significantly as a person. The only word I can think of to describe the sum of these experiences is, well, “empowering.”

In fact, these experiences have empowered me as a woman to be more confident and outspoken in a society that often diminishes the value of women. After completing college, I felt empowered to get a law degree and become an attorney.

As strange as it may sound, I even felt “empowered” to get a divorce many years ago, because my husband’s actions were not in keeping with what I knew my value to be as a woman. As a single parent for nearly seven years, I felt no less empowered or entitled to call upon God’s help and power because I was a single mom. I also received wonderful and blessed acts of service from women and men in my congregation during that difficult period. As the sole support for my family, when I was offered salaries in the workplace that I felt were less than fair — and often less than my male counterparts — I felt empowered to negotiate on my own behalf for better terms.

To the extent that cultural attitudes that devalue women have been expressed, wrongly, in the words and actions of male leaders of our faith or any faith, this needs to change. But, fortunately, this has not been my experience as a woman in the church.

I appreciate the questions expressed by some about why ultimate policy decisions are made by men called to be apostles, seventy, stake presidents and bishops. But, as long as this is their responsibility, I am happy to work alongside my brothers and support them in that duty. Can more be done to ensure that women are heard in making those decisions? I’m sure it can, but I would strongly dispute that as a woman in the church I have felt dismissed or devalued. From the perspective of one ordinary member, it has been just the opposite.

Carolynn Clark is an adjunct professor and the former director of the Master of Legal Studies program at the University of Utah’s S.J. Quinney College of Law. She has been a mediator for two decades and serves as a board member of the Utah Council on Conflict Resolution.