Yet Another Religious Conundrum

I'm so mad I can't see straight. Well, some of that could be the drugs I scored yesterday at my doctor's appointment. Vicodin is good.

But anyway...I want out of this state, and I want out now. I don't want my kids to grow up here, although it's already somewhat too late for that, since my children have almost left their formative years behind them.

I wish, twenty years ago, I had thought about what I was doing when I left my home and family for this place. The only good thing to come out of that decision was meeting and marrying Husband.

I wish I had thought about what it would mean to raise my children in the Bible Belt; the epicenter of religious zealotry and intolerance.

Husband says people are teaching their kids bigotted intolerent crap everywhere. And to an extent, he is right. But I counter that the percentage of ignorant intolerant Christian people in the Georgia is much higher than the percentage of ignorant intolerant Christian people in say...oh...I don't know...Wisconsin.

Let me preface this by saying that I fully acknowledge that I tend to blow things like this out of proportion. Keeping that in mind, I still think that it's a situation that needs addressing.

Tonight at dinner, out of a clear blue sky, Diminutive One asked if we are Christians.

Momentarily taken aback, I inquired why he was asking. He explained that a girl in his class had taken it upon herself at lunchtime to poll the class about their religious beliefs; specifically, whether or not they were Christians.

Diminutive One, unsure of his religious status, replied that we do not go to church. The girl informed him that in that case, he could not be a Christian. She then spread the word far and wide in a gleefully horrified manner, of Diminutive One's heathenism.

Embarassed and ashamed, he defended himself as best he could, but he was puzzled and hurt by her condemnation.

As he told me about the incident, I felt a white hot anger boiling up from deep inside me. I wasn't angry at the girl. She knew only what she had been taught. I was angry at those who had taught her. To hate. To persecute. To villify.

"So, are we Mom? Are we Christians?"

"Ummmm, I am not a Christian, but that doesn't mean that you can't be. You have to believe what you feel in your heart is right. And you don't have to go to church to be a Christian. There are a lot of people who love God who don't go to church. People who truly love God can worship him anywhere."

Husband added,

"America was founded on the prinicple of religious freedom son. The BEST thing about America is that we can worship who we want, how we want, where we want, and nobody has the right to tell us we can't. We don't all have to believe the same things here."

(conversation abridged for the sanity of the reader)

That seemed to mollify him but I was far from satisfied. Something had to be done. After he had left the table to take his bath, I exploded. Husband, as usual, let me vent my spleen in his general direction. He's heard it all before. He listened quietly and let me exhaust my outrage and indignation.

I stewed about what to do. Husband suggested that whatever I decided to do, I take some time to cool my jets first. How well he knows me.

He was right of course. Taking action in that state was bound to be anything but constructive, but I wasn't about to let it pass. No sir. The one place in this Godforsaken state my kid should feel safe from religious persecution is a public elementary school. And my kid has enough problems without worrying about defending himself against choices that are out of his control.

I decided to email the teacher to just let her know abot the situation and get some clarification. After all, I had only heard one side of the story, and...it's true that both of my boys are sometimes prone to over dramatization.

I emailed her late last night and have yet to get a reply, but I'm sure she will address the situation the first chance she gets. I'm the room Mom you see, and that carries a certain amount of power. She can't ignore me.

Not that she would, because she's not really that kind of person. She's painfully young and still very idealistic. She believes in doing "the right thing".

I don't know exactly what I am trying to prove. All I know, is that I want my boys to know that they don't have to apologize for who they are and what they believe. They shouldn't feel ashamed if they do not choose to embrace the same faith that others do. And most of all, they shouldn't have to explain their choices to anyone.

If there is any example to be set forth here, then let it be that.

Let them never feel that they are WRONG or LESS for not believing.

If they do believe, let it be because they feel it in their hearts, and not because somebody else said they should.

Hey...that's kind of like a prayer, isn't it?

A Heathen Mother's prayer, then.

Yeah. I like that.