Photo by Leon Hostetler of his childhood home

Leaving the Amish

By Leon Hostetler

By my mid-teens there was constant pressure from my parents and the larger community to formally join the Amish church. But how could I? The big picture was too fuzzy for me. I was not convinced that the Amish worldview was an accurate picture of reality. How could I kneel before the congregation and profess my eternal faith and loyalty when I had yet to understand how the universe worked and where it all came from? To join the church when deep down I questioned all of it, might have made my parents happy, but it would’ve felt deeply dishonest to me. I had to go out on my own and figure things out first. I left home when I was eighteen and soon found myself in Sarasota, Florida.

I worked a variety of jobs from lawn mowing to internet marketing. Mowing lawns was rewarding in some ways. It was hands-on, and I could instantly see the effect of my effort. I took a ratty lawn and made it beautiful. That felt good. But the next week it was ratty again. Every week it was the same—quick results but no long-term progress. I wasn’t building anything over time. The work itself allowed plenty of time for the mind to wander, and inevitably mine wandered to the big questions. As I piloted the big three-bladed mower over manicured waterfront lawns, I had to ask myself, “Why am I mowing this rich person’s yard when I should be a physicist?” Always, in the back of my mind was the drive to make enough money so that I could go to college. I dreamed of formally studying physics. But college was for rich people, it seemed. To get a college degree I thought (mistakenly) that I would need enough money to cover four years of tuition and living expenses. Financial assistance from my family was not an option. To them, eight years of education seems plenty.

A year after moving to Florida, I met Esther. She was Amish but unlike any Amish girl I’d ever met. Instead of going to an Amish parochial school like I had, Esther had gone to public school. After her eight years of education, she worked as a live-in nanny, which included stints of living in a downtown Chicago high-rise. She was the smartest, best educated, and most independent and well-traveled Amish girl that I’d ever met. Of course I married her!

Leon and Esther Hostetler

By age twenty-six, it was clear that my plan—to get rich enough to retire for four years so that I could go to college—wasn’t panning out. I had left the Amish eight years earlier, but it felt like I had made little progress in life. I had continued to learn on my own. Studying ethics and philosophy and taking a critical eye to religion seemed to bring things into slightly sharper focus. But I had little money, no formal education, a depressing career outlook, and no purpose. Then I learned about the Amish Descendant Scholarship, and I was encouraged to apply for it. With the scholarship and federal grants that I was now old enough to apply for without my parents’ approval, I’d have enough to cover tuition at a community college. Then I would only have to worry about rent and other living costs. To start college without a full plan of how I would pay for it all felt risky… like I was stepping blindly off of a ledge with fingers crossed that it would all work out. But if not now, then when?

To be continued…

Read Part 1 of Leon’s story here.