Once upon a time, I had a really intense conversation with a Christian friend of mine on the topic of raising children. Several people we knew from high school were tying the knot and having kids of their own, so the topic was timely, at least as far as post-adolescent morality was concerned.
At this time, my belief in God was wavering substantially.
With maddening country music playing in the background and cheap liquor sweating on the table between us, she looked at me sternly and asked:
“So, you’re going to raise your kids to be atheists?”
I replied:
“Yep.”
Concern etched across her face:
“Aren’t you worried about what kind of effect that may have on them?”
I shook my head:
“Nope.”
Her eyes widened:
“Really?”
Even then, before I had completely rejected the fanciful idea of a supernatural god, I was convinced that the best way for my children to have an objective view of religion would be to raise them in an environment devoid it.
Children are not born with an innate understanding of and belief in a god, nor are they born atheists. The idea of a god can only be transferred. Unless that transference takes place, it stands to reason that a child can easily remain blissfully ignorant of the whole idea.
No one is born religious. They are made to be. That is the most important detail I will tell my kids.
I understand that this approach to education may come with some really complicated ramifications for my children, considering that as it stands right now, their interpersonal relationships and formal education will at least begin in the Bible Belt. In nearby Dallas, over 61% of its 1.2 million population identifies as religious. In?Fort Worth, over 55% identify as religious. Both numbers dwarf the national percentage of 48.78%.
It’s safe to assume my kids will go to school with other children who are religious. They will share classrooms, bus rides, sandboxes, playgrounds, and blacktops with kids who have an entirely different worldview. I think this is best for my children, as well as the other kids they may come into contact with.
I really would not have it any other way.
I will tell my kids the reasons why I do not believe in a god. I will tell them why the existence of a god really makes no sense to me. I will tell them about my exposure to religion and how I arrived at the station in which I currently reside.?In the interest of fairness, I will tell my kids about the histories of different religions, their beliefs, their structures, and their influence on the modern world.
Of course, this is not to say that I would detest the idea of them looking into religion themselves. I would embrace it, actually. It was my studying of different religions that really led me to become an atheist in the first place.
If my kids were to arrive at the same place as I, my preference would be for them to come to that conclusion similarly to how I did.
The core of the matter is, however, that in my home, my children will not hear religion and supernatural deities promoted from me. I will not teach them to pray, to worship, or to believe in things conveniently unseen. I will teach my kids skepticism, reason, and logic.
If my kids really want to be religious or if they really want to believe in a god, it is up to them to make that determination.
I will not indulge myself in the practice of indoctrination.
