The Constitution’s First Amendment prohibits the establishment of a state religion, including in state-run enterprises like our public schools. But recent developments showcase just how blurry the boundary between education and religion has become. Most recently, a brief uproar ensued after the passage of the Kentucky law which requires schools to prominently display the phrase “In God We Trust” somewhere in the building. Subtler reminders of our nation’s religious background pervade the Pledge of Allegiance we recite every morning. Theology, particularly Christian theology, is ingrained in many parts of school life.

With the holiday season approaching, these religious reminders become all the more common: holiday dances and parties, Secret Santas and Christmas cards. Though many students, including some of those who don’t celebrate these holidays with their families, enjoy these festivities, others feel these events serve as an uncomfortable way to “otherize” students of minority religions. Many more feel that a general lack of understanding of their beliefs pervades their schools. What follows are reflections from students, varying in background and faith, about how their experience with religion has impacted their experience in school.

Hannah:

I’ve never understood why my religion was considered such a defining aspect of my identity. Growing up, I felt the eyes of my classmates upon me every 9/11 and wondered why a religion with 1.8 billion followers had somehow become synonymous with the word terrorist. I understand that the tragedy of 9/11 had a profound impact on this country, but it frustrates me when our teachers never mention, let alone fully discuss, the impact of that same terrorism on Muslims. The troubling prevalence of hate crimes and racism against American Muslims should matter too, because we experience the same terrorism.

Growing up, I felt the eyes of my classmates upon me every 9/11 and wondered why a religion with 1.8 billion followers had somehow become synonymous with the word terrorist.

I feel ashamed to say that I am overly cautious when discussing my religion with my peers, so that they don’t immediately label me as a threat. At the same time, I get irritated that Islam is rarely talked about within my classes, despite being the second largest religion in the world. If schools simply acknowledged my religion by recognizing our religious holidays, the negative connotation associated with it could change. If teachers sympathized with the struggle Muslim students have to endure when they fast for the holy month of Ramadan while simultaneously cramming for finals, this could significantly improve the lives of many Muslim students.

Sadie:

Although the Jewish religion as a whole is much maligned and anti-Semitism is worryingly pervasive, I can’t say that I’ve ever felt personally harassed for my religious identity. No one’s ever ended a friendship because of differences in our preferred day of rest. In fact, sometimes being Jewish feels like an asset in my social life: although the religion is hugely diverse, there’s a special bond created when you meet a stranger who also celebrates Hanukkah in a sea of people who can’t pronounce the word rabbi.

Sometimes being Jewish feels like an asset… there’s a special bond created when you meet a stranger who also celebrates Hanukkah in a sea of people who can’t pronounce the word rabbi.

That being said, there have been plenty of moments that were discomfiting, if not outright discriminatory. Take, for example, my elementary school’s winter show. I, being nine years old, wanted nothing more than to play the snowflake fairy. But rather than being offered the role or at least afforded the chance to try out, I was instantly assigned a part more “in line with my personality”: Hanukkah Child #1. The only other Jewish student in the drama club, funnily enough, was given the oddly similar role of Hanukkah Child #2. Together, we led a song entitled “Lotsa Latkes” where we got to discuss the wonders of applesauce.

This incident did not cause lasting trauma or permanent psychological damage, but I think it serves as a reminder of just how awkward and insensitive we can sometimes be when it comes to religion. I’m sure my drama teacher meant well when she assigned us our roles. Perhaps she assumed that, as a Jew, I would be able to offer some special insight or interpretation of my part. But it didn’t take a deep knowledge of Hebrew to teach kids what a dreidel was, nor would I have needed to know the Lord’s Prayer in order to sprinkle paper snowflakes on a stage. Shows like these, while well-intentioned, often end up typecasting and oversimplifying complex religious beliefs.

Informing students of the rich diversity of cultures is important. But we can’t rely on kitschy songs to replace experiential learning or meaningful discussion. I’m not saying we should stop encouraging adorable children to sing about the joys of winter. But we need to stop thinking of religion and culture as something that can be explained in a catchy two-minute melody. Instead, let’s try teaching students about religions and cultures in all their many complexities — although I’m happy to keep the latkes.

Emma:

As a Muslim, I remember having some feelings of being slightly different when I was younger. It wasn’t that I was alienated; I’ve been lucky to have had great teachers and friends who were both supportive of and interested in learning more about my religious beliefs. But there were often very few other Muslims in my classes, and even though other friends were willing to listen, it wasn’t the same as talking to someone from the same background and religious identity as you. It felt less like exclusion and more just a lack of understanding: people didn’t know much about Islam. Attempts to include Muslim holidays in winter parties in elementary school often didn’t make sense, because the Islamic calendar shifts ten days every year, so these holidays don’t line up with Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa dates. For example, in 2020, Eid-al-Fitr will be in May and Eid-al-Adha will be in July. To a degree, I felt abnormal. I won’t pretend that this bothered me drastically, but it was definitely something that I experienced, and I’m sure others in smaller counties of Kentucky experience it exponentially more than I did.

It felt less like exclusion and more just a lack of understanding.

Now, in high school, my school choir is singing traditional Christmas music. It doesn’t bother me much. Maybe that’s because in some families, Christmas has become more traditional and cultural than religious, so participating in singing Christmas music simply seems like an American tradition to me. Or maybe the songs are just really catchy and it leaves me largely unbothered. In any case, I will always enjoy school winter parties, Secret Santas, white elephants, and other Christmas traditions, but I do feel as though there could be a better way to include Muslims (and other religious minorities) in schools, outside of learning whose empires converted who in history classes. As the population of Muslims continues to grow in America, hopefully this will improve.

Phoebe:

In my third grade year, my school began implementing a weeklong festive buildup to winter break — class time replaced with decorating Christmas ornaments and learning carols. At some point during this week, it occurred to me to idly state, “I’m Jewish.” It seemed vaguely relevant but unimportant. Yet within minutes, I found myself involuntarily stranded in front of each third grade class in turn, explaining Hannukah to my peers. My teacher oversaw the presentation, beaming at her success in providing the students with this great opportunity to learn about “other cultures.” Up until this point, though I realized that my religious background differed from those of my peers (especially since I lived in a minuscule town in rural Kentucky), I failed to infer that this carried any personal implications whatsoever.

Nyasha:

The holiday season is soon approaching, and along with it comes celebration. For as long as I have been part of the American educational system, the last couple of weeks before winter break were marked with some sort of “winter” activity. From the winter mixes made in elementary school to the White Elephant of my seventh grade math class, these activities were branded as celebration for the changing seasons. Yet I have always been uncomfortable with this. Is it only a coincidence that some of these proclaimed winter celebrations align with the Christian traditions? And as a Christian who does not celebrate many Christian holidays, the judgment and confusion of my peers if I choose to not participate in them is daunting. This is not something that is restricted to just Christmas, though. Celebrations such as Halloween, Valentine’s Day, and Thanksgiving are pushed by both students and faculty with “Valentine’s Grams” and “gobble grams”, dances to celebrate the season, special lunches made for the day, and school functions centered around the holidays. Though harmless in nature, many students are made uncomfortable by them. Now, I am not saying that this should not be allowed in school, but rather asking everyone to consider the other side. Consider the students who do not participate and their reason why. Deeper still, should this be allowed in a country that proclaims separation of church and state?

Sanaa:

My mother, being a deeply religious Muslim woman, never let me participate in those “holiday” activities we did in elementary school that were really all about Christmas. Now, at four years old, I didn’t quite understand what “pagan traditions” meant, but that odd phrase my mother used didn’t stop me from crying when I wasn’t allowed to make an ornament at school to decorate my non-existent Christmas tree. In an effort to keep me from being swayed by other faiths, I was kept very far away from all such Christmas activities. Though it was meant in good faith, all it did was isolate me and make me feel like I was in a religion that hated fun of all kinds. After all, telling a four year old that she can’t have Christmas cookies really does put a damper on her holiday fun.

However, upsetting as I found it when I was younger, I now have more resentment towards the entire Eurocentric education system than I do towards my parents, who acted with the best intentions. Having realized how separate church and state ought to be, according to the Constitution, I now understand that the amount of “Christmas spirit” present in public school is rather unnecessary, especially for young, impressionable minds. Though the majority of the kids enjoy it, the small population of minority-religion students often find themselves with feelings of isolation at not being able to understand all the fun. Yes, Christmas is by and large a commercial holiday with very few roots to religion when it comes to its mainstream perception. Still, without more sensitivity towards those who don’t share the same beliefs, we find ourselves in a worryingly divided society, one that still doesn’t quite understand how Eid changes days each year but is happy to chew me out for not knowing all about the Immaculate Conception (not Jesus’s conception, apparently, but Mary’s!).

Without more sensitivity towards those who don’t share the same beliefs, we find ourselves in a worryingly divided society, one that still doesn’t quite understand how Eid changes days each year but is happy to chew me out for not knowing all about the Immaculate Conception.

Now, being older, I don’t feel alienated by Christmas celebrations, mostly because I participate in the harmless (and delicious) activities with friends, like Secret Santa and cookie exchanges. Doing so always makes me a little sad, because I know by the time Eid rolls around, the people I celebrate with will no longer be celebrating with me, too. To make all Americans more culturally aware, I propose that significant minority religions be given their holidays as nationally recognized days off, though I recognize the lack of feasibility of that request. I’ll settle for some Eid presents, though.

Sara:

I never felt any significant religious exclusion from my school itself. Being in a choir program, I of course encountered the issue of holiday music and what that really defines, but it never bothered me all that much. Christmas music is catchy and fun to sing, and I will always be excited to sing “Carol of the Bells” when the calendar shifts to December.

My main experiences with lack of understanding usually came from other students. In fifth grade, I remember my teacher instructing us about different religions. I mentioned the Quran, but a few of my friends were confused, even after my explanation. I finally called it the “Islamic Bible”, and tried to not let it get to me. One other experience entailed a student asking if I was “from Muslim”, as if it were a country. I still reference it today as a joke, but I know at the time it was upsetting.

I don’t feel prejudice or exclusion because of my religion, but there is definitely a lack of understanding. I think discussing and learning about different religions around the times of their respective holidays could help all of us know a bit more about our peers and their culture.

Daksha:

“Don’t Hindus, like, worship cows?” It’s a question that I’ve heard many times, usually from a Caucasian person attempting to showcase their worldliness, and one that ignites a deep rage inside of me. It’s not a phrase rooted in bigotry, but rather ignorance, which is the predominant atmosphere surrounding Hinduism in the American school system. I’ve spent my life correcting, explaining, and defending my faith for a variety of reasons.

Hinduism is a religion that, unlike the Abrahamic religions (Islam, Christianity, and Judaism), has not gained significant traction outside of its country of origin, India. This has led to the belief that all Hindus are Indian and that all Indians are Hindu, which is definitely not true. Other misconceptions include the one that Hindus worship cows. While some Hindus may agree with that statement, the vast majority simply exhibit respect and sacredness for the animal, and do not outright “worship” cows. Hinduism is also a traditionally polytheistic religion, though some followers (including myself) see it as monotheistic, with all the various gods being an incarnation of one deity. This has led to Hinduism being branded as a ‘bogus religion.’ While I do not experience significant discrimination because of my religion, this is due to Hinduism not being taken seriously enough to even warrant prejudice in the eyes of many.

There are of course exceptions, and many people are accepting and respectful of a religion that almost one billion people practice — shoutout to my AP World History teacher, who on the first day of class made sure everyone knew Hinduism is a legitimate religion and not ‘mythology’. But with the vast majority of the students I meet being ignorant of such an important part of my life, it can be hard to talk about my religion in school. The amount of incredulity surrounding Hinduism eroded my faith, something I’m still struggling with every day. If teachers and students alike could be more mindful of an active religion that is more than just cows or Gwen Stefani’s bindi, school would be a place where I could embrace my religion, not hide it.

Hayden:

As a non-denominational Christian, my experience with school and religion has been an interesting one. Nothing particularly terrible has happened, but most of my peers just don’t quite seem to understand what exactly goes into my religious practices. With most religions, I feel like this misunderstanding comes from a lack of cultural awareness. Certain people and certain communities just aren’t exposed to some of the religious diversity our country is home to. But Christianity presents quite a different case. As the most popular religion in the world and the religion of ¾ of all American adults, Christianity has more than its fair share of exposure. It is also the religion with the largest presence in popular culture in our country.

So if people clearly know enough about Christianity to understand traditional practices, what exactly causes these misunderstandings? I believe popular culture actually hurts the reputation of Christianity rather than helps it because it presents the religion very differently than it is actually practiced. Culture in America portrays Christianity as a religion of rules and purity. You either follow the rules and are a child of God, or sin and aren’t. The reality couldn’t be further from its perception. The Bible states that everyone is a child of God and the rules God makes are just to help us stay closer to Him. He loves us no matter what we do. Society sees Christianity as a religion of rules, whereas in my belief it’s about a relationship.

My school often sees Christians as judgmental people playing the “Godly comparison game” and criticizing people for their sins. In reality, these actions are frowned upon by God just as much as other sins. People in my school often fall for this misconception, and it isn’t helped by the staff either. First of all, religion takes a negative connotation in school because of separation of church and state, and I think we can keep separation of church and state while also respecting religion in public schools. Secondly, teachers don’t help foster discussion and education about religion. My AP World History teacher perpetuated this claim that Christians are judgmental people focused on calling you out for your sins and used the Crusades as evidence for his point (whatever they say, the Crusades were mainly motivated by fame and wealth and not God). He largely portrayed Christianity as a stubborn religion focused on selfish interests. I believe that to solve this problem, we should integrate more religious discussion into the classroom. Learning from those who practice any religion will have significantly more accuracy than absorbing backhanded prejudices.

This piece was drafted and edited through the collaborative efforts of the Student Voice Forum editorial board. The introduction was written by Sadie Bograd.

The opinions expressed on the Forum represent the individual students to whom they are attributed. They do not reflect the official position or opinion of the Prichard Committee for Academic Excellence or the Student Voice Team. Read about our policies.

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