Blog Post 9

I realized how much this semester I've been interested and looking forward to hearing my classmate’s views on religion and religious privilege. Personally, my parents raised my sister and I in an Episcopalian church, but when I was 14 they changed their beliefs – they sat us down and told us that they would love for us to have religion in our lives, but that it wasn’t up to them to decide what that would look like. They then offered us comparative religion classes on several opportunities (I didn’t end up taking the class until my junior year in high school).

This experience has strangely given me religious privilege in two ways. First, I was raised for over a decade in a Christian (or some refer to the Episcopalian church as “diet catholic”) household. This puts me in line with the 78.2% of Americans who practice or identify as Christian, and in more conservative settings, allows me to welcomed as a part of majority. Second, it is unfortunate, but in some circles having strong religious beliefs can sometimes alienate you more than it aligns you with your peers. Coming from a Christian background comes with a certain set of expectations, and people tend to jump to conclusions about the type of person you are. My unorthodox religious upbringing (after the age of 14) puts me in favor with these groups, and lets me play the “spirituality over organized doctrines” card.

I have recently renewed my quest for religion and/or spirituality, and with that process comes a lot of questions of how I wish to talk about my beliefs or whom I wish to talk about it with. With this also comes the struggle of how to stand my ground. It’s been easy for me in the past to play each situation as I see fit – either I’m a Christian who doesn’t really practice (but I am accepted because once a Christian, always a Christian), or I’m the spiritual person who renounced Christianity (and I am accepted because of my worldly and liberal views). I recently went on a date with a man I’ve been interested in for a long time, and on this date I discovered he was Baptist. He seemed as taken aback by my religious ambiguity as I was by his religious resolve, and in that moment it was interesting and somewhat sad to witness how our views of the other’s religious choices suddenly and severely shaped our ideas of each other, and I was taken aback by my own judgment. I had been struggling with which identity to choose with this person, and I instead chose honesty – I told him the full story, and he seemed slightly unpleasantly surprised. While that may not have been full-throttle religious oppression, it was interesting and altogether disheartening to experience.