My school was proudly old-fashioned. Questions were viewed with suspicion and contempt, especially in the context of religion. We were not allowed to study RE as a subject, since exposure to a variety of religious views would have ‘confused’ us. Instead, we had Divinity with the School Chaplain: we read passages from the Bible and he explained them.
My parents were deliberately neutral in their stance, and so I came to my religious schooling with a completely open mind – in many ways, an easy convert. I was profoundly respectful of what I assumed were the sincerely-held beliefs of those around me and I would bow my head during prayers. I was utterly fascinated by the ritual of Chapel, and knew all the traditional hymns; I can still sing most of them all the way through, much to my husband’s consternation, and can recite the Creed, some of the Psalms, the Lord’s Prayer and several others.
While I would listen with interest during the Sermon, it took me a long time to realise that I was pretty much the only one doing so. On an increasing number of occasions I would find myself enraged by the message that we had been given in Chapel, or puzzled by the hypocrisy of our situation. If Jesus said to ‘sell all thou hast and give to the poor,’ what were we doing in an expensive boarding school? Did God honestly care how I performed in my exams – didn’t He have something more important to worry about? And why on earth did I have to pray for the Queen? Ignored by the staff and ridiculed by my peers, it became clear to me that most people neither listened to nor cared about the lessons that we were taught by the Reverend. Even he didn’t seem to care that much. Yet when I questioned the charade, I was bullied for it – by students and some of the staff.
Atheists are often accused of being ‘angry’ and I guess it’s hard for believers to comprehend the unpleasant mix of condescension, prejudice and paranoia that some of us have faced, growing up in a society that tends to equate faith with morality. Soon after I started attending school, I went to a meeting that was announced for ‘all students who are not Christians.’ In my innocence, I failed to realize that this was a euphemistic way of gathering our tiny handful of Muslim students so that their non-attendance at Chapel could be agreed. The Housemistress nearly fainted when I showed up, the only girl in the room without a headscarf. She asked me what on earth I was doing there, so I explained that I didn’t believe in God and was therefore not a Christian. She told me not to be so ridiculous, said that my views ‘didn’t count’ and sent me away. That was probably the first time that I felt really angry.
Despite the pressure (or perhaps because of it – I was a rebellious child at heart), I became more and more convinced during my childhood that an unswerving acceptance of a bundle of ancient writings made very little sense. In addition, a school rife with bullying was a fine place to observe that religious beliefs have no effect on a person’s humanity. Over the years I watched some of the worst bullies in the school pass through their Confirmation ceremony, in which they agreed to ‘turn away from everything which was evil or sinful.’ Some of them became servers in Chapel. My distaste for the whole sham increased, and by the time I reached University I was thoroughly relieved to be away from it.
Yet given that we’re all a product of our experiences, I sometimes wonder what kind of person I would be had I not attended such an old-fashioned ‘faith’ school. I fully support the BHA’s campaign against them, as in principle I believe that every child should have an education that is free in every sense – not least free from indoctrination and prejudice. Yet for me, my experiences shaped my convictions – and not in the way that the school had intended. Maybe I’m unusual, but if my story is anything to go by and you want to nurture an atheist, then I guess you proceed as follows: send them to a ‘faith’ school, ladle on plenty of hypocrisy and tell them not to ask questions. The result may surprise you.
Adrian Bailey says
Emma is the exception that proves the rule. I spent 12 years at faith schools without an inkling that God might not exist. I wouldn’t wish the dishonesty of a faith-school education on anyone.
Adam says
Excellent article.
One thing you did suggest was that having a “completely open mind” might make you an “easy convert” – I wonder, however, whether that would have actually made you more sceptical since open-mindedness allowed you the interest to actually listen to and critically evaluate what was beings suggested to you.
In the BHA’s campaign to stop faith schooling, I think it’s perhaps also equally (if not more, since it technically affects more schools) important to get rid of “broadly Christian collective worship”; my primary school was secular but a lot of the things you mention still remembering (although the primary school had a more evangelical approach, so Psalms were out) I had there.
My secondary school currently politely ignores that piece of government guidance because it’s patronising to the majority-athiest pupils and impractical for the school since most of the teachers who deliver to the yeargroups are also atheists. Surprisingly enough, our spiritual and moral development has probably been improved as a result of not spending half the time in which we currently receive secular inspiration on Bible readings.
Rachel says
“Maybe I’m unusual, but if my story is anything to go by…”
“While I would listen with interest during the Sermon, it took me a long time to realise that I was pretty much the only one doing so.”
I think, Emma, that you are unusual. Less thoughtful students fail to see the contradictions and hypocrisy.
Lottie says
I attended a catholic secondary school after attening the local county junior school, although I was raised attending a methodist chapel. Although my parents were mostly indifferent about religion I was raised with a loving christian environment, about acceptance and inclusivity. However this all changed at the catholic school as I was excluded from taking communion (which I had always done in my church) and things were very black and white to them, whereas before I was told to think about what the meaning was in things, now I was just told.
In RE we studied a catholic syllabus with other religions being covered in the first term of our first year only and I then went on to spend the next 4 years being told how my form of Christianity was wrong. I would ask “what was the point of the Pope?” as we didn’t have one in our denomination but was ridiculed and told to not be rude. My answers to many questions were also mocked by staff and students. I came to realise that the friendly and accepting environment of my youth had nothing to do with religion but about the people. I hated being told what to believe as that to me is personal and the fact I was treated as second class my staff and students (one even counted the ways in which I was going to hell).
The final straw was when it became a ‘cool’ thing to attend my chapel, remember this is a christian school so parents were happy with their children attending a church even through it was the ‘wrong’ type at least it was church. I couldn’t see how people could just chop and change their beliefs and it just down right offended me that these people were coming into my space. I relaised it had nothing to do with religion I just wanted my own space which I could find in other ways and did.
I am now an adult embarrassed at my ignorance of other religions and actively educate myself on them. I have also lost any faith I started with but mostly in humanity that we can treat people so badly just for being so slightly different.
Andy Boden says
‘Atheists are often accused of being ‘angry’ and I guess it’s hard for believers to comprehend the unpleasant mix of condescension, prejudice and paranoia that some of us have faced, growing up in a society that tends to equate faith with morality.’
Thank you …. a very succinct statement of what I have tried to explain to ‘believers’ from the age of 9 onwards (I’m now 65). It is the case that many religious adherents are so steeped in their own philosophy (though I hesitate to use that as a description of religion) that they totally fail to understand how anyone could think differently and so become totally annoying as they tell others how to think and behave.
Lewis Elliott says
My situation was almost identical to the writer’s. I attended an evangelical christian school from Year 7 until June of this year when I finished sixth form. It was that or the local comp when I finished primary; and in hindsight I sometimes wish I’d chosen the latter, however I believe going through 7 years of attempted brainwashing has made me a more freethinking and independent (atheist!) person
Every morning was spent listening to an assembly from a member of staff, death and resurrection were favoured topics, as well how “depressing” the atheist point of view must be, and how little sense it makes. There were even digs against other faiths. I remember one teacher saying that Islam has 100 words for God, but not one of them is “Father”, the implication being that Christianity was better because of that – I can’t say whether or not the claim is true, but for me it just showed up the intolerance and narrowmindedness they espoused all the more.
The bigotry was especially poignant for me as I was a closeted gay person throughout my school life, and of course the prognosis for people like me in their eyes was pretty dire, because of course being gay is unnatural/disgusting/sinful and you’ll end up in hell for it unless you repent. I’ve even seen a classmate of mine agree with a Facebook post about an American evangelist saying that Christians should give their gay children over to the devil.
So no, the “faith” school didn’t bring me closer to God, and it wasn’t worth the ordeal. Yet — I did have some wonderful teachers who espoused a much more moderate, personal form of Christianity, and I’m thankful that the whole thing made me see sense and take a stand against extremist Christians, rather than becoming some brainwashed American-style evangelical like people I knew have.
nikos stone says
I am not an atheist by any means but I believe education should neither be atheist or religious .Questions about life and death should be for vigorous debate in philosophy classes or. Religious studies as an academic lesson. .
Belief be it atheist or religious is for the home and tbs personal
History as in Former Atheist Soviet union or in tbeocentric Iran show that atheism or religion taught as ideology brings the opposite result.
John Dowdle says
Humanism and atheism are not religions.
They are usually described as lifestances or beliefs.
We accept the need to teach children about all religious beliefs to make sense of the impact that differing religions have had on the fabric of world history.
We would not dream of banning the historic study of religion any more than we would ban the study of important civil, military and political figures in history.
It is also important that children have an understanding of different traditions.
They should have some idea of the dietary regimes of others.
We support robust philosophical discussions on ethical aspects of public life.
The important thing is for children to leave school knowledgeable and well-educated across a diverse set of disciplines and not just one alone.
John Dowdle says
I – like other commenters – think you were literally exceptional.
Your sororal school attenders simply “went with the flow” because life was unthinkingly and unquestioningly easier that way.
Remember Shakespeare’s description of Brutus by Julius Caesar: “Yon Brutus has a lean and hungry look – such men are dangerous”, i.e. Brutus was a thinker and – even worse – an independent thinker.
Sometimes – perhaps most often – being an obvious independent thinker is not the best strategy if one seeks widespread popularity.
We all have to live with ourselves and if that means being true to ourselves – as the motto above the Conway Hall stage urges us to be – then that is the way it is.
I too attended religious primary and secondary schools but in my case I found all the RE content had no relevance whatsoever to my life then or now.
In retrospect, it was all mumbo-jumbo as far as I was and am today concerned.
People who do not subscribe to religious ideology are not only atheistic, they can also include agnostics, secularists, apatheists (probably the vast majority) and people like me who are ignostic humanists, i.e. people who base their beliefs on actual real knowledge and who have an optimistic faith in themselves and all of humankind where continuing real progress is concerned, hard as that may be to sustain sometimes.
It would be interesting for ordinary humanists and secularists to discuss the differences between these differing shades of belief at some future public event.
Julia Summerill says
Thank you. What an interesting article. I’m glad religion didn’t get a hold on you. I have had to send my children to faith schools. I have no choice as they are our closest schools. initially I thought it harmless and that my children might benefit from believing in Heaven as it would be a comfort should any grandparents die. However, over the years I’ve come to realise having religion in schools is counterproductive to a good education and to a well run school.
I’ve always thought that Christians get very angry if you challenge their beliefs precisely because they secretly know they are held on very weak grounds.
Emily says
I definitely feel you were the exception to the rule, like other respondants. My schools were not particulary strict, but I’ll never forget my 4 year old self being totally freaked out by the monotonous chanting of the Lord’s Prayer in Primary. I’d never heard anything like it, and found it really scary. I still loathe the sound of it.
Amanda Plowright says
Your story is almost my story! I went to a CofE boarding school in Australia in the ’70s. Every year there sent me further away from any religious beliefs and convinced me that so much of it was sheer nonsense.
However my journey started long before being shipped off to school. I remember when I was a bout 7 sending my self to Sunday school (my parents never insisted in formal religious observances) as some of my friends went. For a while it was fun, the bible stories were interesting and I liked colouring in the bible pictures, but after a while I got boarded with it. I remember thinking some of the things we were being told didn’t make sense and were a bit silly.
There appears to be as many shades of non belief in God(s) as there are religions though, and, I think, the danger lies more in the fanaticism of any belief system.
As my father was in Air Force we moved around alot and spent some time living in Asia, so I grew up with awareness of several different religions and always wondered how people could follow so unquestioningly some of the practices, both Christian and non Christian