Reflections on Being a PK (Preacher’s Kid) on Father's Day... - After the Altar Call

Hello World,

So I’m a Daddy’s Girl, but the older I’ve gotten, I’ve realized I’m also a Mama’s Girl. That being said since it is Father’s Day, I will focus on being the former. What has defined my relationship with my father is the fact that my dad is the Rev. Dr. Denzil D. Holness, pastor of Central Christian Church in Southwest Atlanta since I was six years old! And incidentally, my grandfather, my mother’s father, was a pastor and so is her brother, my uncle!

Growing up with a devout preacher of God, my father, and a daughter of a preacher, my mother, was wonderful and challenging at the same time…First of all, my brothers and I always felt loved and cherished by our parents. They encouraged each of us to become kind and empathetic people. They encouraged each of us to pursue our dreams. And most of all, they encouraged each of us to have personal relationships with God…

But, they had a TON of rules…And sometimes I found creative (read: I lied) ways to get around these rules…Maybe that is because they are churchy AND Jamaican! (Because I’ve never met an older Jamaican that didn’t believe in law and order…)

My father made it clear once I started high school that I could not go to dances even though all of my friends went to dances…I felt like Ariel, the preacher’s daughter in the original “Footloose.” Remember dancing and rock music were forbidden by the city council in their small town Bomont? So when I was in the tenth grade (if I am remembering correctly), I devised a scheme to go to my high school’s homecoming dance. As I was on the drill team and often got back from football games very late, I decided to tell my father that he didn’t have to pick me up from school until very late after a football game. I figured by the time he picked me up, I would have had at least an hour or so at the dance in the gym.

Imagine my surprise when as I was sitting with my all-time favorite crush, a handsome football player, on the bleachers, giggling like a lovesick girl that I was and what not, and the heavy doors of the gym suddenly swing open…A figure, illuminated by the light in the hallway, stood and surveyed the room. I felt like I was in a movie then because everything seemed to slow down. The figure wore a trench coat and his pajamas showed underneath. At once, I realized it was my father and he walked right up to me as if he had been magically bestowed with infrared vision. I was caught. If I could have passed out I would have as I became nearly mute with embarrassment. I HATED being a preacher’s daughter that night…

I found ways to date without my parents knowing as well. Although I was allowed to date when I was 16 years old, I didn’t always want my parents to know about every single date. So I claimed I joined a club at high school and we met on Wednesdays evenings after school. I figured that since my parents went to Bible Study at church on Wednesday evenings, they wouldn’t pay as much attention to what was going with this new club I joined, and I was right. So after school on Wednesdays, one guy in particular would pick me up from school and we would hang out throughout College Park where I grew up. He came all the way from the Dec (Decatur)to see me which seemed very far away at the time…Incidentally, he was a preacher’s kid too..Those were the days…I now know what the verse “Remember your Creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come…” (Ecclesiastes 2:1)  means…Back then, in spite of the high school drama I occasionally experienced, every day felt like a new adventure…

Aside from the rules, I often found myself in situations that have to be unique to preachers’ kids….

I had my first kiss in front of the church during Vacation Bible School the summer before eighth grade…The boy I kissed lived across the street from the church. After we smooched that summer night, of course we became boyfriend & girlfriend…LOL…So after church on Sundays, when everyone was socializing in the parking lot, I would slip away to cross the street to visit my new boyfriend’s house…I figured no one knew what was going on with me because they were all yapping which is what happens for at least a half of an hour after church is over…But one Sunday, as I was getting ready to cross the street to come back to the church grounds, I saw my father waiting on the corner…to this day, I don’t know who could have told him where I was…But that was the last time I went across the street after church to visit my boyfriend…

When I was even younger, I was always getting into fights – usually because of my mouth because I’m articulate like that and folk couldn’t take my verbal beatdowns. The trouble was though is that my verbal prowess didn’t translate into physical prowess so I got beat up a lot. Instead of taking my side in these fights, my father invited the people that I fought with over to our home. He would then give a mini-sermon about being a peace maker…It was worse than being beat up…You know I got joined (talked about) in the neighborhood…

I could go on and on…

And now that I’m an adult,  in spite of all of the rules and embarrassment, I wouldn’t change a thing about being a preacher’s kid aka a PK or a pastor’s daughter…It has made me who I am today 🙂

Happy Father’s Day to ALL fathers particularly those who are pastors and a very Happy Father’s Day to the Rev. Dr. Denzil D. Holness and my father-in-law 🙂

Any thoughts?

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