Let's pretend for one moment that your dad is the conductor of the closest commuter rail. You take the bus. Everyone around you is outraged, confused and obligated to interrogate you on the topic. "What do you mean you take the bus? Your dad is the CONDUCTOR for crying out loud! Why don't you take the train? You're going to be a conductor one day, right? You must know everything there is to know about being a passenger. Does this mean you hate your dad? Why aren't you wearing a conductor's hat? Do you realize how bad it makes your dad look that his own FLESH AND BLOOD has chosen an alternative means of transportation?"

This is kind of an insane way to approach a human.

"I would never do this, because I have a basic, if not proficient, set of social skills," you think to yourself.

There's a good chance you kind of already have.

If you grew up in a church, have been a part of multiple churches in your lifetime or have even visited a church, there's a good chance you've gotten a good look at the pastor's family, if he or she has one. You've heard a few things about us, and have had your own range of experiences with our kind that have caused you to believe that you are well equipped to understand and even predict the inner workings of the mind of a Pastor's Kid. To be completely fair, the two main categories you've assigned to us are, more times than not, pretty accurate. You've got the Angels and you've got the Rebels. I don't need to spend any time profiling them because they both have received so many truly flattering roles in the film industry.

But what I do need to spend a little time explaining is the human your expectations fall upon. The stereotypes come from somewhere, that's true. But we are not one-dimensional.

My dad’s occupation doesn’t tell you anything about me.

This is my family’s way of life.

It's the age old joke: "You're just a Pastor, life's easy for you, because you just work on Sundays!" This joke is actually rather hilarious. Not because it's ever gotten a genuine laugh out of anyone in ministry, but because of how ridiculously inaccurate it has proven to be, time and time again. If you think about all of the things you value the most about your pastor, his level of involvement, general availability and genuine, authentic concern most likely reside somewhere near the top of the list. It is one of the greatest honors as the child of someone who is always prepared for their day job to spill into the night and weekends and holidays to witness this kind of selflessness in action on a daily basis. Behind the scenes of the man you appreciate so deeply, there's a family who lives in a house with a revolving door and a calendar with a whole lot of white-out. This kind of unpredictability brings its own fully loaded set of learning curves into a family who happens to be a whole lot more like yours than you've allowed yourself to imagine. It's not just what my dad does for an income, but we wouldn't have it any other way.

Don’t talk to me, talk to him.

More times than once, I have been confronted by someone who has a bone to pick. Many times, I’m the person they’re actually looking for, but a shocking number of times, I have been approached by someone who is upset by something they heard from my father, whether it had been heard in a sermon or in a one-on-one meeting I likely know nothing about. I am not my father, and likewise, my thoughts do not necessarily echo his. But if you are banking on the fact that I am a perfect example of The Rebel variety, and will unconditionally support you in fighting against an opinion differing from your own merely because I have disagreed with him before, you are coming between a father-daughter bond you don’t even understand. If you think that coming to me to find out What's Really Going On With The Pastor is your best bet, you must be awful at poker. Please don't put me in that position. It's awkward and inappropriate to make a kid speak for the actions of a figure in their life who they need to learn to always trust.

He’s my pastor too.

It is just as unfair to assume that I disagree with everything my dad has said as it is to assume that I agree with it, again, solely based on my relationship to him. There have been plenty of moments that I have heard something over the pulpit that I really have to think over. You might be expecting the next part of this paragraph to go something like, “And then we sit down in our living room with the family Bible on the table and talk it all through until we have all expressed our view points and challenged one another until we reach a mutual understanding.” And, sure, that’s happened a few times. But do you go to your pastor with every single doubt, question or comment? The chances of that are pretty slim. I am under his guidance as his child, but also as a member of the other family he looks out for.

No, I don’t want to help.

CC: every youth leader on the planet.

I mean, yes. Of course I want to help! I was going to sign up, and you knew that, so you did it for me. And as petty as it may be, that irritates me. Any other kid in the church is strongly encouraged to involve themselves in church sponsored community events, youth group outings and everything in between. But scarcely will you find a youth leader running the risk of severely violating a kid’s sense of trust by throwing them out of their comfort zone. However, it happens to us quite a lot for a few different reasons. We understand that you get used to counting on us to be there every. single. week. and that in a way, that’s really helpful for you, we totally get it! You know for sure that if the risky, new program you’re running doesn’t take off the way you’d hoped, you’ll have your built in support system. Please don’t hear this part wrong: nine times out of ten, we are honored to be held in that regard, but every other time, it comes off as slightly disrespectful to our own wishes. This is due to the second main reason: more time than not, it’s not recognized that we, yes, we the PKs, do in fact have comfort zones. It may have been a big moment for me to finally be at peace with the idea of going on that missions trip, or maybe a difficult sacrifice for me to miss other plans for that 30-Hour Famine. It’s expected of me to show, I wanted to go (more importantly), so I will. But please do not undermine the sliver of freedom I have in choosing to write my own name on that sheet in whatever version of cursive I please.

Have I considered going into ministry? Funny you should ask.

Confession time. Toward the middle of my senior year of high school, I was still uncertain what I wanted to do that upcoming fall. I had picked a college, and was all excited for the big move up North, but I couldn’t for the life of me discern what it was I was supposed to accomplish there. Due to yet another byproduct of my Pastor’s Spawn status, almost every single member of our congregation took turns grilling me about my future. I understand that this is not a cry of pain unknown by anyone else who has ever graduated or moved away, but let’s face it. Whether or not I remember if she’s the newest newborn’s aunt or mother, she knows who I am. There’s almost this duty I believe members of a church (especially in smaller congregations) feel to be involved/interested in the life of the pastor’s family. Sadly, no church points are offered here. However sweet the gesture is, it’s a panicky situation for a senior without a plan. Seeing as I really didn’t have a direction, I picked the most recycled answer My People have coined as their own: “I’m planning on majoring in Christian Ministry.” Now, to be fair, any and all jobs that come from any major offered at the institution of learning of your choice can legitimately be a means of ministry. But I was not as sure as I acted that I would be choosing this path during school. People change their minds and majors and I knew no one would be too shocked if I changed my major. OK, yes fine, that was kind of a lie. The point here, however, is that going into each and every one of these conversations, I had a simple answer that would have been deemed satisfying merely because of who gave birth to me.

OK, you win this one: there are some differences between us

The most frustrating of these obstacles is quite possibly also the most difficult reason to articulate. This is the part where I want to say something like "My high school experience was infinitely harder than yours because it was impossible to live without someone constantly breathing down my neck and cross checking every move I made with a passage from Romans." And I know I've already got some of the PKs in the back nodding and snapping, but the truth is, I can't do that. Words like "more" and "less," "harder" and "easier" are words that immediately introduce a value statement. My life may be put under more lights than yours, simply by the nature of the role my family plays in our community, but that doesn't make it any more extravagant, important, or interesting. I'm a kid with a dad who does some cool stuff. Just like you. I deal with difference challenges. I experience different victories.

But I am a human, more complicated and individual than you often give me credit for.