Dan Riley - Generation Atheist

There were other difficult occurrences that related to the prayer banner, too. On Facebook, students from my school began adding me as their friend just so that they could harass me. At one point, I posted a video about how our nation’s history is secular and how elements of today’s government discriminate against atheists and other people who don’t believe in a traditional Christian God. One kid started freaking out; he posted a bunch of material, including an Edward Currant video. Edward Currant satirically portrays a Christian. I asked, “Do you realize that Edward Currant is sarcastic? He’s actually an atheist.” That sparked an enormous argument of 200 or 300 comments in which this person and a bunch of his friends were calling me the worst names I’ve ever been called in my life. They were saying that no one wants me in the school and that I should just leave. He said that if I knew what his opinion of me was, I would kill myself. The next day the same kid said that other people who hadn’t commented but had viewed the whole thread had told him that he had done a great job.

Overall, this whole ordeal has changed me. Before this, I never would have considered myself an activist, someone who would speak up about these subjects. I have always been terrified of public speaking: I almost puked when I had to give a presentation to 20 members of my third grade class about the state of Georgia. This, obviously, has been a bit more intense.

There’s a huge difference in who I was a couple years ago and who I am now. I feel better. I feel like I have a lot more real friends. I feel much more comfortable speaking out and being open about my atheism. I think it’s paying off. I remember feeling entirely hopeless and alone after the first meeting. I found out that there’s a whole community of atheists and that there’s a movement. The people who rallied behind me have been amazing. The fact that I knew that I was speaking up not only for myself but for other people as well changed everything. That made it worth fighting.

Even though I’ve gone through some hardships, I don’t think I’m getting colder. I know I’m still the same person that I have always been. I just understand more now. I would never go back to being religious. When I was younger, I remember feeling confused every time I thought about the universe or God. Everything’s much clearer now. I have more confidence. For the first time, I can say that I don’t care about what other people think and genuinely mean it. I don’t intentionally avoid situations where I will be surrounded by people who disagree with me. I have plenty of friends, lots of support, and I know what I’m doing is right. That makes it all much easier.

Note: Since Jessica’s interview for this book, a federal judge ruled the prayer banner in Cranston High School West to be unconstitutional.

At age 19, Michael Amini was standing on a highway overpass, seconds away from suicide. He thought about jumping onto an oncoming semi, planning to be splattered on its windshield like a nighttime summer bug. And why not? As a teenager, he had just lost his faith, his girlfriend, his community, and the trust of his family. He was an ex-Mormon with no rudder. Then, B.B. King and Ray Charles’s “Sinner’s Prayer” played on his iPod. He listened to its lyrics and mustered the courage to carry on.

Michael’s story, the original inspiration for this book, is a fascinating tale of a very detailed and very personal religious journey. In the end, it was his insatiable curiosity to find the truth that led him out of his faith and toward a life without religion. His new worldview, perhaps most importantly, has enhanced his empathy, allowing him to both better understand religion and view the status of his relationship with his family without bitterness. This is Michael’s story.

Having just returned from a mission for the Mormon Church in Dusseldorf and Frankfurt, Germany, my father was encouraged to find a girl to marry. He wasn’t quite 21, but returning missionaries are commonly taught to seek “their next and last companion.” My grandmother, who worked at an elementary school at the time, brought home a faculty picture and laid it in front of my dad, telling him that she would set him up on a blind date with the girl of his choosing. He looked at the photo, thought for a moment, and put his finger down on a 25-year-old blonde teacher from Spokane, Washington. They were engaged two weeks later.

I was born in Salt Lake City, and my family moved to Spokane not long after. We were a highly active and firmly-believing Mormon family, with the faith an integral part of our lives. We would go to church every Sunday and attend extra meetings throughout the week. Most of our friends and associates were people we met there.

I took my faith seriously from a young age and was excited by the fact that I had the whole of divine truth at my back and a mission before me. Always curious and inquisitive, I took apart anything that I could to see its workings. I could hardly satisfy my desire to learn. My parents encouraged and praised my inquisitive nature and made huge sacrifices to put me in the best and most challenging schools and courses to help me grow — at one point, they even took on some janitorial duties at the private elementary school that I attended in order to offset the cost of tuition. I’ll be forever grateful for that.

My parents also encouraged me to investigate and learn about our faith. Mormonism’s foundational story begins with Joseph Smith reading the Bible and questioning his own faith, and honest, inspired inquiry continues to be stated as a core virtue of the Mormon paradigm. After all, as the Church claims, if Mormonism is truly Christ’s restored church and holds all of His truth, honest questioning can only lead to that conclusion.

The gravity of the Church and its message was never lost on me: if this was truly the way and path that would define my ultimate destiny and the fate of the world, nothing could be more important. Recognizing that I would need to take my own journey to realize my faith, I paid close attention to my lessons, talked with and asked questions of my teachers and leaders, and prayed diligently.

In Mormonism, the first Sunday of every month is called “Fast Sunday.” Members are encouraged to fast for 24 hours if they are able, take the money that they would have spent on their meals, and donate it to their church in the form of Fast Offerings, which ostensibly is used to feed the poor. Also, as part of the Sacrament Meeting on that Sunday, members can choose to go to the pulpit and “bear their testimony” before the congregation, publicly declaring their faith. Frequently, children will go to the pulpit as well, wanting to be like the adults. Because they may not know the right words to speak, a parent often accompanies them and whispers in their ears what to say. While adults try to speak about their own experiences, children often say the same thing: “I’d like to bear my testimony. I know the Church is true. I know Joseph Smith is a prophet. I know that the living prophet is a prophet today. I know the Book of Mormon is true. I love my family. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Looking back, I find this to be rather disturbing, but growing up, I felt that it was well-intentioned and endearing.

The first time that I recall going to the pulpit on Fast Sunday, I must have been six or seven years old. I didn’t feel it was honest for me to proclaim that I knew the truth of something that I was in the process of investigating, so I declared, “I’d like to bear my testimony. I don’t know that the Church is true, but I’d like to find out.” It was an unusual thing to hear from a child, and I realized that I suddenly had the attention of everyone in the congregation. “I believe in this church,” I continued. “I know that I love my family, and I know that it has brought good things into my life, but I don’t know that the Church is true just yet, and I mean to find out.” After closing in the name of Jesus Christ, I returned to my seat and was commended with smiles and hugs by everyone around me. Because of their faith that the ultimate truth was within Mormonism, my family believed that my honest inquiry could only lead me to the same conclusion. They encouraged me down that path. I was baptized by my father not too long after at the age of eight, still not quite willing to state that I knew the Church to be true but hoping that it was.