I grew up in a very strict, Italian, Catholic household.
Catholicism was huge part of my life. It is what governed my parent’s parenting
skills, and set the foundation for my education. In elementary school, up until
7th grade, I went to St. Augustine’s Catholic School in Andover, MA.
The school was flooded with religious classes, prayer breaks and my least
favorite, the nuns.
I had to go to church three times a week, come hail sun or
snow. I found mass to be daunting and a little scary. I remember feeling so
small and irrelevant in this massively, ornate church- but also mildly scared
by the unison chanting of the crowd. Nevertheless, I went through the motions
of it all, as any little scared Italian child would do. Though, my practices
and beliefs slowly changed when I moved to California.
The transition from Boston to California was difficult. The
land itself is a complete 180 from the rugged, green terrain of Massachusetts.
Instead of plush greenery and wild animals, LA holds a concrete jungle of
broken dreams, nose jobs and the occasional palm tree. However, it was the city
atmosphere that began to change it all. My parents became too invested in each
their daily activities and the rushed, fast-paced setting of Los Angeles to put
Catholicism first.
Then came the giant, world-wide scandal of the Catholic
church. BBC News provides a list of countries involving scandals of sexual
abuse within the Catholic Church. In Italy, they reported that, “In June 2010 a
high-profile former priest was charged with sexual abuse. Pierino Gelmini, 85,
is alleged to have abused 12 young people at a drug rehabilitation centre he
founded.” Additionally, in Los Angeles, they informed that, “a report
commissioned by the Church the following year said more than 4,000 US Roman
Catholic priests had faced sexual abuse allegations in the last 50 years, in
cases involving more than 10,000 children - mostly boys. A series of huge
payouts has been made by US diocese to alleged victims of abuse - the largest
being some $660m from the Los Angeles Archdiocese in 2007.”
As all of this played out before our own eyes on almost
every single news station across the world, as we continuously struggled to
find our religious identity in Los Angeles, it was the same moment we no longer
put Catholicism first. Shortly after, we stopped attending mass entirely.
Occasionally, I would see my mother praying. Clutching a small,
detailed purple rosary with everything she had left in her. Sometimes I would
join in, because times often got tough and we needed that hope-that small
beacon of light to get us to the clearing.
Though, when I was a junior in high school I lost a very
close friend of mine that I’d known since I moved to California to a freak and
utterly tragic car accident. She was sixteen years old.
After Annamay’s passing, I didn’t turn to God anymore for
help. I didn’t seek guidance, I didn’t seek anything because I stopped
believing in the big white man in the clouds. I was pissed. My heart forever
shattered beyond comparable repair. I questioned how could something so
“loving, powerful, understanding, and almighty” take the life away from an
innocent sixteen-year-old girl on her way to school one rainy morning? I still
haven’t found the answer.
I took to my own methods of self-healing and soul searching.
I considered myself an Atheist even though I put Catholic on all of my college
applications. When I was accepted into Loyola Marymount University I was
ecstatic but then that sense of excitement dwindled significantly after my
first couple of years.
Being an Atheist attending a Jesuit University is like a
rabbit visiting a wolf’s den. I wanted to understand and learn more about
various religious traditions, reexplore Catholicism and discover more of
myself. However, almost everyone I encountered in either daily passing or in my
religious classes behaved like wolves.
I found myself keeping my mouth shut and conforming to
professor and peer ideologies because I was shunned or ashamed every time I
suggested an alternative perspective or an anecdote from my own life with my
faith.
I was in the wolf’s den. Pew Research Center reports that
66% of college graduates are Christian practicing while only 5% are Atheist. How
does a rabbit fit in with the wolf pack? They don’t. They dress up like a wolf
and howl like a wolf for survival, or they just run right the hell out of
there.
However, after being silenced for so long I came to have a
deep conversation with a professor of mine who explained to me that I have a
right to my beliefs and ideas, and surprisingly enough, she felt very similarly
to me.
The Huffington Post reports that “professors in the United
States also have a complex understanding of the Bible. According to Gross and
Simmons, only 5.7 percent said that the Bible was the “actual word of God.” In
contrast, 48.3 percent answered that the Good Book was an “ancient book of
fables, legends, history, and moral precepts,” and 39.5 percent note that it is
the “inspired word of God.”
Apparently, there are many professors and individuals alike
that feel the same way I do! Though, why are we silenced in our journey to
religious freedom and expression? Is it because of our environment? Perhaps.
However, I can firmly state that three out of four of my university’s religious
classes have done nothing but further perpetuate my dislike for organized
religion. It was however, the intellectual and unjudgmental discussions and conversations
with select few peers and professors who have better guided me in my own
understanding of religious identity.
No comments:
Post a Comment