As a person and as a professional, I see the power of identities, both visible and invisible, to shape the experience of people for better and for worse. Visible identities like race, language, and ability evoke images of active oppression and exclusion in U.S. society to this day. But for many, invisible identities, among them religious or spiritual affiliation, are the source of both pervasive and unacknowledged oppression.
I was raised as a non-denominational Christian. My maternal grandfather and great-grandfather were Christian ministers, spending much of their lives overseas, particularly in Asia, as missionaries. As a child, I remember learning about the stories of Noah and Jonah during Sunday School. I have distinct memories of questioning the reality of those stories, even as a child of elementary school age. By high school, my family had largely stopped attending church except for Easter and Christmas. The role of religion in my life was a lingering question, but felt somehow inconsequential, in any event. By 11th grade I’d met other students of my age who were skilled in the sciences and it is the first time I remember considering that god might not actually be real.
I often think of my experience growing up in a single parent household. I found myself drawn unconsciously to other kids whose experience was like my own, but I never considered it consciously. To me, having only a dad was normal. Similarly, I would grow to feel the same about religion. I didn’t understand the draw of religion to my friends. It was simply a non-consideration in my life. But I couldn’t acknowledge my identity publicly. Christianity was the standard by which the world worked. My high school was even built in a church building. I wore a crucifix necklace for a couple years just because it was the thing to do. I recited the Boy Scout law to be “reverent” with no concept of what that meant. These were just things that one did as a young person in my community.
Today, I am firmer in my identity as a non-theist, but social pressures to conform to Christian values persist. I cannot spend a dollar without seeing “In God We Trust” scripted on the bill, or attend a city council meeting without being asked to bow my head for prayer. This is my interest in issues of faith, both on campus and in society. Religion is held as the standard. Non-theists are marginalized not only insomuch as they may be considered a religious minority, but also to the extent that non-theism is wholly excluded as a legitimate worldview to begin with. It is an identity that I can hide, and this is no small privilege. But it also an identity that many feel pressured to suppress. To this day I’ve not had a conversation with my parents about my non-theism.
In my research and advocacy, I approach religion not as a standard, but as an ideological choice. The value or harm of an ideology is not in the idea itself, but in the ways in which those ideas translate to behaviors and attitudes. To disregard someone’s right not to believe is to invalidate the integrity of belief itself.
