An unpleasant reminder of just where I live hit me like a two by four between the eyes.
Since we haven’t been living with my mother-in-law and have been able to practice our religion, Wicca, openly (she had banned us from practicing it anywhere at any time so long as we lived under her roof), I’ve been lulled into a false sense of security. No one was harassing us. So long as he gets to church, Dad ignores it, except for the occasional muttered wish that he doesn’t understand why I’m not still a Catholic. Our neighbors who know we’re Wiccan could care less, and even the preacher down the street didn’t push when my husband explained we weren’t interested; instead they sat down over a cup of coffee and talked non-religious stuff. It’s been peaceful.
Today I had it driven home that Barrow County, Georgia (a fairly rural area between Athens and Gwinnett county), is part of a Christian Nation and, while the Rest of Us will be tolerated, we really are second class citizens in the Bible Belt. We were thinking about joining the YMCA (and before anyone feels called upon to remind me, I know it stands for Young Men’s Christian Association) because it is cheap, has a fully stocked weight room and some great classes, including water aerobics and yoga. And for once the aerobics instructor wasn’t a 100 pound 5’8" blonde in pink leotards who squeals "Whee!" a lot (I had one of those once; they’re ghastly). Plus my agnostic neighbor goes there, and she wanted me as a yoga partner.
But when we walked in, we saw a very large sign proclaiming that the facility proclaims Christian principles and values. I was kinda expecting this, because their billboard did have a strong fundy Christian theme. It didn’t bother me, because it was over the sign-in desk, and was just a statement of principle admission. What I wasn’t expecting was that every bare wall, including a large pair in the weight room, was covered with quotes from Scripture or the names of the Christian God. Everywhere you looked, there was religion. I’ve seen fewer religious quotes and decorations in Baptist churches.
I asked the guy giving us the tour if they permitted non-Christians to join, and he said they did. What I am currently wondering is how welcome I would be if I wore my pentacle, which I never take off. Allowing someone to join is different from welcoming them.
Yes, I know the Y is a Christian organization, and they have a legal right to put up any damned religious quotes they like--but I’ve used them in the NE, and never had a problem. In fact, there was nothing to indicate it wasn’t a secular facility offering sports and classes and workout space. No crosses. No quotations from scriptures. No push to remind you that this is a Christian organization that, in its infinite kindness, permits non-believers to join. I am actually surprised they don’t offer a discount to Christians, or tack on some kind of extra fee for us heathens.
So, once again, I have had it shoved down my throat that in the Bible Belt, anyone not the right religion is a distinct minority who is grudgingly permitted to live there. And I suspect that if a vote were held today on whether non-Christians should have the same rights as Christians—the right to vote, for instance-- some places in this nation would overwhelmingly vote to exclude us because our religions make us "not real Americans". This is why, even now, I fear the power of the Religious Right. They don’t have to have one of their own in the White House to make life difficult for those of minority faiths. They just have to control the school boards, the city councils, the legislatures and places like the Y. They just have to pack schools with their co-believers, make sure the police force is dominated by them, and elect co-religionists to local office.
Will we join? My husband is as distinctly squicked by the décor as I am. On the one hand, it’s cheap with decent facilities, compared to a gym (which we cannot afford). On the other, do we want to give money to a group which stands for attitudes we find intolerant? We’re gonna sleep on it.