I am a native of Texas, born in Denton. I'll be fifteen years old next March. My schooling began at Reinhardt Elementary in Garland, Texas, until we moved to Richardson where I've attended Richland Elementary from 3rd Grade. This year I'll be a freshman at Richardson Jr. High.

One of the things you need to understand about Texas schools is that the kids are very much segregated - not by race, but on the basis of their social, economic and religious situation. It's not inflicted by the school board or the teachers, either. It's all done by the students themselves more or less intentionally. At my school, the three main groups are the "Preps" who are all Christian church-goers and come from the more well-to-do families. They're the "high society" - or imagine themselves to be such - and look down on the rest of the world. The "Freaks" are just the opposite. They dye their hair blue and wear rings through their noses just to prove how daring and different they are and try to stir up some outrage from the rest of society. Finally there are the "Scrubs," like me, who don't expect others to measure up to some set of standards for belonging. We accept everyone. And most of us think there are more important things in life besides a Tommy Hilfigure and a pair of Colehaun loafers. I like to think that we try to be friendly to everyone and not judge people by their religion, or their economic or social situation. I like to think of us as the nice people.

Let me give you some examples of how all this works out in the real world.

On my first day in Kindergarten - Oh, yes, I remember it well - I met Amy Howard, who to this day is one of my best friends. But at that time we were just getting to know each other. Then she popped the question: "What church do you go to?"

No one had ever asked me that before.

"Church's Chicken!" I exclaimed. But she didn't find that amusing, so I came clean. "I don't go to church," I said, not thinking much of it.

But that didn't satisfy her. "Why not?" she persisted.

"Because I don't believe in any god," I told her. But, again, I wasn't thinking that this was anything but a simple answer to a simple question, sort of like saying that I didn't eat eggs for breakfast because I was allergic to them. But when I saw the look on Amy's face, I knew it was much more than that. What a rude awakening this was for me as a kindergartner. Fortunately, Amy was - and is - one of those people who can overlook a difference of opinion. She could accept me for the person I was without judging me harshly for my lack of god belief. Little did I realize that other encounters over this ever-popular issue would not be so friendly.

For two years, my religious beliefs didn't seem to be a problem for me or anyone else. But then, just when things were running smoothly, we moved to a new neighborhood just before I was due to start Third Grade.

"Cool!" I thought. "A new school means new friends!" I was so wrong.

On the first day of school I learned about the Preps.

But that day not a single one of the quite large church-going group made any attempt to make friends or be nice to the new girl, and for the rest of the year and years to follow, that's how they would stay.

Finally, Fourth Grade came. In the first two weeks the Preps were at it teasing anyone who didn't measure up to their distorted standards or who otherwise differed from them. One of those kids was a Jewish girl. I'd seen her once or twice on my street but I didn't know her that well. One day at recess, I saw a crowd of them around her and when they left I could easily tell that she was crying. Being a sympathetic sort, I rushed to her aid. We began talking as I calmed her down and then she said something to me. "Before you decide to befriend me, there's something I need to tell you," she told me hesitantly.

"What?" I began, "You're an Atheist?" I commented jokingly. She laughed and to my surprise, actually knew what an Atheist was!

"No, why? Are you one?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I answered under my breath.

"Oh that's cool, I'm Jewish. That's what I had to tell you." she said in a relaxed tone. She explained to me that she had been going to Richland Elementary since first grade and every year the Preps had been at her because of her religious affiliation. We've since become good friends and through the years have taught each other about our differences in beliefs and moral teachings. To this day she is one of my only friends who has stood up for the same rights as I have.

By this time, you may be thinking, "Okay, Preps are only children. They should be able to forget about each other's differences and become friends, right?"

WRONG. Fifth Grade finally came along and that year someone said something that I will remember for the rest of my life. For that Christmas, my family and I were to take a trip to my parents' homeland of South Africa. Naturally I would talk about it at lunch and recess and so forth. One day at lunch one of the boys decided to give me his view. He told me: "Amanda, you don't deserve to go to South Africa. You deserve to go to Hell with the Devil!"

Being only ten at the time and naturally sensitive, his words really hurt me. But I dutifully told the teacher about this affront, and she did ... absolutely NOTHING!! That really made me start to think. "So this is how these wonderful loving Christians treat others who differ from them? Nice people. Does their treating me that way mean that they want and expect me to treat them that way? Doesn't it say in the Bible, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you'?" Yet it wasn't until Eighth Grade that I began to stand up for myself and my beliefs and assert the freedom of conscience that is the birthright of an American citizen.

But that same year, I also met a fascinating girl who has one of the most creative minds I've ever encountered. Her family was Christian but she wasn't sure what she was. Even though she had attended our school her whole life, and supposedly shared the same beliefs as the Preps, they still didn't accept her. Why? Because she had the brains and the nerve to question the unquestionable belief in her "Lord and Savior."

It was about that time that we became a team and spent all of our Sixth Grade year together confusing the Preps with our (to them) weird ways and sticking up for each other in times of need. Seventh Grade was then quickly upon us and while she and I were still searching for our identities, my new skeptical friend slowly became involved with the Freaks, whose main claims to fame are:

1. Listening to nothing but alternative music: Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, etc.
2. Wearing nothing but black - and perhaps a few other colors here and there.
3. Dyeing their hair and styling it in the brightest colors and messiest ways possible.

The Freaks are considered to be abnormal and even Satan-worshippers because of their appearance. But many are, in fact, far nicer than any of the Preps I've known. Unfortunately, at first I made the mistake of judging all of them by the way they looked.

In the beginning, I thought my friend was going insane! Then she dyed her hair magenta pink and I seriously thought she had lost it completely. Then one day she told me to look deeper than what I saw on the outside. She said that the main reason they make themselves look strange is to make the Preps (their sworn enemies) afraid of them. So I looked harder and found out that the Freaks really aren't that bad.

Earlier that year, my friend's father had started making her attend meetings with the youth group at the Christian church her family attended. And what did this wholesome indoctrination do to her? Did she become a nun and join a convent?! I don't think so. Instead, it completely converted her to Atheism! Now she not only asked: "My Lord and Savior?!" but she had an answer too: "Save me from what?"

Throughout my years of school, I've had a few encounters where people have had a problem with my lack of superstitious belief, but nothing could have prepared me for what awaited me in Eighth Grade.

When I began my first semester in August of 1995 at Richardson Junior High, I had a positive attitude and looked forward to a great year. Yet as the months began to disappear, I began to read between the lines and for the first time, I saw the Preps being worse than ever before. Teachers also began to appear in a ... new light, if you know what I mean ...

US History was a subject that I particularly enjoyed, until my teacher began injecting Christianity into the lessons at every conceivable (and inconceivable) opportunity. At first I didn't pay much attention to it but as it began to pop up more and more, I found that I was more and more offended by it. Yet I remained silent.

On one occasion, somehow, our class managed to get onto the subject of the theory of the Big Bang. The idea was raised at to whether such a thing should be taught in schools since it was against "God's Word" as revealed in the "Holy Bible." Then I heard the boy behind me say one of the funniest things I've ever heard in my life. I would have burst out laughing had I not realized that he was actually being sincere.

"All I know," he said, "is that I'm not going to let some idiot tell me about how there was this big explosion and the Earth was just here!" The rest of the class seemed to agree ... except me, that is.

Practically out of reflex, I turned around and said to him, loudly enough for everyone else to hear as well, "Well I'm not going to listen to some idiot tell me that the Earth was created in seven days by some almighty all-powerful immortal being that's floating around in space watching my every move!" That was when the class suddenly decided to have a moment of silence. So I continued on, "Look, this is a history class and not Bible study. And as for the Big Bang, it's just a theory, like all scientific theories, and no one's making any of you believe it." And that was the last word of discussion on the subject.

Later that year, in the same class, we were given an assignment to get into groups and form our own political parties. We had to come up with our own laws, rules, regulations and be able to say what we stood for. The group I was in we called MASC, which was a combination of the initials of our first names. Our program was to protect people against discrimination and violations of their rights. Our views reflected many of those championed by the ACLU. That being the case, of course, our party wasn't a particular favorite.

Another group was of three boys who all attended the same Christian church and called themselves the GLOBOIDS. They were for everything we thought was wrong. They based their politics on the Bible and condemned anyone who was homosexual, anyone who had the AIDS virus, poor people, and, most importantly, those whose lives are not ruled by DOG - I mean, GOD.

Childhood silliness? Sure we were just thirteen then. But the reason I bring this incident up is because I think it shows what sorts of things were rubbing off on these boys at their fundamentalist Christian church. Already they were learning to hate anyone who was different. As for me, I can't even hate the Christians who hate me let alone every other less fortunate (or less like me) human being on the face of the planet.

It's amazing how stupid and brainwashed a person can get from being indoctrinated in a religious faith. Christians really do somehow believe that their religion is completely different from the rest of the world's beliefs.

About two weeks after spring break earlier this year, a friend of mine came to my house to go swimming. As we sat in the hot tub discussing clothes, cheerleading, your usual teenage conversation, she got on to the subject of religion. She began to ask me question after question, until finally she asked, "If you were religious, what religion would you be?"

"I'd become Buddhist!" I answered her sarcastically.

"Why?" she asked me giggling.

"I don't really know," I said, growing a bit more serious.

"Yeah, but they worship a statue!" she argued.

"So do ya'll!" I replied. "Ya'll wear the statue around your necks!" I continued.

"Yeah but they worship statues with six arms and stuff," she retorted, seeming to enjoy the debate.

"But your statue looks like a lower case 'T'!!" I came back.

So she switched to yet another religion. "Egyptians are weird," she said. "They believe in an afterlife and things like that."

Now stop me if I'm wrong, but don't these religions have a bit too much in common to be different? So I casually answered her with, "So do you! You think that when you die, you go to meet your maker! The Big Cheese! El Jesus Christ himself!!!" She didn't find that as funny as I did. But she hasn't brought the subject up again, either. I really don't understand Christians.

The last incident I'll tell you about happened just a few days before school was out this past year. I was in Math class discussing the North Texas Church of Freethought with my friend who got in with the Freaks that I mentioned earlier. All of a sudden, the girl in front of me turned around and said - with much joy - "Oh! You're the Atheist!"

"Yes," I answered her slowly. "Why?" I asked.

"Oh, well we heard that there was a girl who wanted to join F.C.A. [Fellowship of Christian Athletes, a religious group at my school] but she couldn't because she was an Atheist." Probably she was hoping to convert me and earn her place in Heaven.

"Well," I began without hesitation, "I am an Atheist and No I do not wish to become a member of the F.C.A."

"You mean, you don't want to believe in God?" she asked me in disbelief. I shook my head with a large grin on my face. Just then, the bell rang and I got up to leave but the Christian evangelist stopped me. "Well, I know I have no say in what you believe in, but when we die and I go up to Heaven and you go to Hell, I'll pity you," she said with a flourish that reflected an attitude of "I think I'm all that ... plus a bag of chips!"

"You'll pity me?" I repeated back slowly, beginning to laugh uncontrollably. I pity her now myself knowing that as I tell you about this, she's at her church, convinced she's going somewhere after she dies. But all I could do then was laugh and walk away. The next morning, my mother, on hearing the story, took the opportunity of reminding this young lady of Adolf Hitler's Christian faith and wishing her well on her way to meet him. Thaaank youuuu Mommy!!!!!

Since then, I've been on summer vacation and I haven't had to deal with other people's pushy religious superstitions.

I think that Christianity is taught in the absence of knowledge. Christians are taught never to ask questions. Things just are and you're supposed to take them as they are. Rainbows are just there, the grass is just green and the Sun just rises in the east and sets in the west. That's just the way it is. Knowledge is power and that's why Christians fight it so hard.

Yet Albert Einstein said to, "Always question everything." People who aren't afraid to use their minds see the world differently. They take a closer look at what they see around them. And they learn some wonderful things when they do this, like the fact that rainbows are there because of the way sunlight refracts through rain drops. And the fact that grass is green because of chlorophyll. And the fact that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west because of the direction of the Earth's rotation.

I think that the Christian religion lets its believers feel superior to everyone else. It gives them a sense of self-importance and something to hope for. It also lets them explain everything without having to work at it.

The ancient Greeks invented gods to explain why there were seasons, where lightning comes from, and why volcanoes erupt and so on and so on. The Christian God serves the same purpose for many.

But gods don't really explain anything. All they do is raise more questions and leave the original questions unanswered anyway. If you follow Einstein's advice, gods just make you more confused than ever.

So this is what it has been like for me to attend a public school system in which most of the other students, and maybe the teachers too, are against me and wish me into Hell for three little words - "I don't believe."

When I first attended the North Texas Church of Freethought, I noticed that I was the only teenager and the oldest child. So I hope maybe my experience will give you some insights and maybe some guidance for those of you who have children who will eventually by my age. Because, as the years go by, they will have these kinds of experiences too. And it will be because you have the courage to teach them to question what they do not understand and to be proud of what they don't believe in.

Don't ever doubt that this is the right thing to do!

My parents have always taught me to believe in myself and my own ability to think something through. They showed me how to find the strength and gave me the support I've needed to stand up for what I think, for my right to think, and for my right as a citizen of the greatest country in the world to believe what seems best to me no matter what anyone says.

To Mom and Dad: THANK YOU for raising me and my brother William in a God-free household! And thank you, also, Tim [Gorski, M.D.], Deborah [Boak], Mike and Marilyn [Sullivan] for starting this church. It's made me feel much better to know that my family and I aren't the only people who look at things a little more closely and ask a few more questions.

Presented at the August 1996 Sunday Service of The North Texas Church of Freethought.