They say everyone is born an atheist, since babies have absolutely no concept of religion or faith. They know you'll feed them, hold them when they cry, etc, but they don't have the capability of believing in a invisible being that lives in the clouds.
So, when I was born, I was an atheist. This is how I got back to my roots.
I was born in 1983 to not very religious parents. In fact, I don't remember being taught anything about god or Jesus until I went with one of my friends to church when I was around 5ish. After that, I saw religion as something someone else does. The buildings were pretty, the people seemed nice, but the clothes you had to wear were uncomfortable. (I hated dresses)
Fast forward a few years, I think I was about 9, my sister came out as a Wiccan. After reading some of her books and talking to her, I thought it was pretty cool to worship nature (I spent almost all my time outdoors anyway). So I decided to become Wiccan.
I remember I was at a party with my parents, and one of my moms friends asked what church we went to, or something of the sort, and I responded with 'Oh, I don't believe in god'.
After we got home my mom took me aside and said "I don't care if you say you believe in magic, but I never want to hear you say you don't believe in God."
I just stood there speechless. I was never even told about religion from what I could remember, we never went to church unless is was with cousins or uncles, so why was this such a big deal? Since she never said anything else after that, I figured it wasn't that important. Still, I began keeping my beliefs to myself. Until high school...or hell, as I like to call it.
I was invited to a bible study group, and I politely declined. When asked why, I simply said "I'm not christian". Not a very smart thing to do when you grow up in the rural bible thumping corn-hole I did. Everyone immediately started asking what I was,
"Mormon? Jew? Jehovah's Witness??" because surely, if I didn't identify as Christian, then obviously I was another monotheistic religion. While I'm sure I could have made my life a little easier, and had fewer death threats, if I had just laughed and said i was kidding, Since that wasn't (and still isn't) my style, I told the truth.
"I'm not Christian, because I don't believe in god, I'm wiccan, which means I find comfort in the earth." Note: This phrase is the quickest way to be immediately shunned by pretty much the whole freaking town. Seriously.
The backlash of this statement included being tripped in the hallways (a couple times down the stairs) being spit on, called some very inventive names, and having others kids trying to sneak bibles into my backpack. Once I had a very, VERY Christian girl befriend me, I thought maybe I could turn everyone around if they saw how nice I was. She wanted to borrow my numerology books, so she could try to understand what I saw in it. "Of course!" I said, and eagerly handed them to her. After a few days she gave them back, and proceeded to completely ignore me. Completely frustrated and confused I went back to my schoolwork. At lunch I decided to read one of my books, since one of my friends wanted me to do a reading for her. Written on almost every page were bible verses, phrases about how if I gave my soul to Jesus I could still be saved, the devil has a tight grip on me and only God can release me from those chains. Now, I had trust issues for awhile after this, because I fully understood why she had tried to be friendly to me.
I went to the teacher and told her what had happened, who sent me to the principal. His response was "Well, you shouldn't have let her have them."
I shit you not. He also made a mention of how you could still read the pages, and since it was written in pencil I could just erase it. He completely disregarded the fact that my property had been vandalized. I wish I could say that this was the extent of the discrimination I had to face, but we all know better that that.
Now, I had never been a straight A student, but I had always gotten A's in English, until Junior year. Apparently my teacher was a devote christian, and that was the ONLY English class I have ever failed. She didn't just give me a C or a D, but an F, saying how I was always late turning in my assignments, back talking her, and turning in horrible work. Sorry, I guess I forgot to mention I had horrible brain damage that made me turn into a drooling, comatose vegetable.** (sarcasm**) The illiterate jocks still got C's, and they really were illiterate. During times when we had to read out loud it sounded like a first grader sounding out three syllable words, but yes, I'm sure I deserved an F.
Then senior year I apparently regrew all those missing brain cells (and had an open minded teacher), because I got an A. It's a miracle, I really don't know why I was never on the news for overcoming the frightful odds of being brain dead one year to completely cured the next. Somebody get my my award for bravery!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment