Confessions of An Advice Columnist

Confessions of an Advice Columnist

I never intended to become an advice columnist. Melinda Welsh, then editor of the Sacramento News & Review newspaper (SN&R), asked me three times to take on the project. I refused three times. She ignored my refusals and invited me to lunch. Over pizza and salad, she made it sound as though writing an advice column might be my calling. \”Just try it,\” she urged. I agreed.

Turning Haters into Lovers

The column hit the newsstands on October 31, 1996 and was immediately targeted by hate mail from members of Atheists and Other Freethinkers, an organization that promotes the separation of religion and civic life. Most letter writers said they liked my advice but asked me to please “just leave God out of it!” Other writers threatened me: “I know what you look like from your picture in the column. So don’t be surprised one day if you’re walking downtown and someone pushes you into traffic…” And this: “If you don’t stop talking about God in the newspaper, I’ll make sure that you live in hell on earth.” The number of mail bails gradually slowed from three bags a week to one. But my hands still trembled whenever a manila envelope of mail from SN&R arrived at my home or when I opened my email inbox. I hadn\’t yet confronted the haters. My mind told me that if I did, it would enflame the haters. But I grew sick of opening hate mail and decided to respond to an anti-God letter in my column: “If you don’t like the column, don’t read it. If the mention of the word God bothers you, skip over it or replace it in your mind with a word you prefer.” The hate mail stopped completely. And, in 2007, the Sacramento chapter of Atheists and Other Freethinkers invited me to speak at their December meeting. \”The Ask Joey column is a fine example of secular spirituality,\” the invite read. I happily accepted the invite.

What I Like About You

The column debuted with a photo. My name is unisex and the paper wanted readers to know that I\’m female. It didn\’t matter. Letters poured in from men in prison addressed to \”Mr. Garcia,\” and requesting an introduction to the woman whose photo appears in the column. In the minutes before I would begin a lecture on spirituality at a local bookstore or university, a middle-aged woman (or three) would rush the podium, breathlessly asking where Joey Garcia was. \”That\’s me,\” I would say. \”I\’m Joey.\” Confusion splayed across their face. \”No, you\’re not.\” I would take out my driver\’s license to prove otherwise. These women had imagined “Joey” to be a deeply spiritual Latino man in touch with his feelings. Steeped in romantic fantasy, they had convinced themselves that my photo in the column was eye candy, and not a real photo of the person who wrote the column. Yes, that would be me.

Joey in Black and White

A woman walked up to me at an art gallery in downtown Sacramento. “You look like that girl who writes the Dear Abby column in the News and Review,” she said. “Do you mean, Ask Joey?” I asked. “Yeah, I read it every week.” “I’m Ask Joey.” She leans toward me. “Wow, you look more ethnic in person,” she said, after a long stare. “What do you mean?” “Well your skin is darker.” “It’s a black and white photo,\” I said, stifling a laugh. For the record, my ancestry is African, Mayan, Scottish and Honduran. Green eyes, brown hair, light olive skin. So, yes, compared to a black and white photo on newsprint, I look more ethnic in person. I’ve also frequently been told that I look taller in person. The photo in the column is just my head and shoulders. In real life, with my body attached, I am taller. Close to 5’11, actually, when my soles kiss the floor.

Accused of Behavior Unbecoming an Advice Columnist

In the column, I dole out rules for romantic relationships because people ask me to, but readers have very specific ideas about how I should live (even though I don’t ask for their advice). Once when I grubbing a burger at Nationwide Freezer Meats, a 30-something-year-old man asked if I was Ask Joey. I nodded. “Whadda doing eatin meat?” he asked. One of his buddies holds the SN&R open to my column and points at my photo. “Shouldn’t you be a vegetarian?” “Are you a vegetarian?” I asked. “No,” he said, “But you’re spiritual.” Change the characters and restaurant, and I’ve had that experience close to 100 times. Maybe God is trying to tell me meat is dead. But readers also seem startled to discover me at a club shaking it on a Saturday night. “But you’re here,” I’ll point out. “Yeah, but you’re spiritual,” the person will reply. Some readers clearly translate spiritual as flowing white robes and seclusion. Hey, I’m just your average city girl trying to be completely in the world but not entirely of it.

Sexuality Harassment

One of my early columns featured a letter from a closeted lesbian whose former hookup threaten to out her after she tried to end the arrangement. The letter writer was terrified of being condemned by her family, employees and members of her church. \”You\’re made in God\’s image,\” I reminded her and urged her to take her power back by outing herself. A week later, I was walking to lunch in downtown Sacramento and heard someone yelling. I looked across the street and saw a man and a woman holding hands. The woman yelled at me: “So you think homosexuality is normal?\” The man yelled: \”You’re a freak!” Without thinking, I yelled back: “Thank you!” waved goodbye and kept on steppin.

Kill Joey

On Good Friday in 1998, the owners of a small video store in downtown Sacramento cut my photo out of the newspaper, enlarged it life-size, pasted it on to a sheet of butcher paper and drew a body beneath it nailed to a cross. Over my head they wrote “Kill Joey” and then taped the poster to the inside of the glass door leading into their store. I found out after a friend left a message on my answering machine, distressed by the image. The next day the store’s owner told a Sacramento Bee reporter: “Joey is too good. She deserves to be crucified.” “Too good?” As I pondered those words, my friends filed complaints with the Sacramento Police Department. \”It\’s Freedom of Speech,\” the cops said. A week later, a woman whose female partner had struggled with her own sexuality and whom I had counseled, saw the poster. Furious, she marched into the store and raised a ruckus, demanding that the drawing be taken down immediately. She so frightened the video store owner that he tore the poster down and into pieces himself. Joey Garcia coaches teens and adults to have more joy and personal power in their lives. Contact her about her coaching services by email. ©JoeyGarcia All Rights Reserved. This article was originally published in the Sacramento News and Review newspaper.