I have many friends who are Christians, Muslims, Buddhists, Bahais and Hindus. I don't try to convert them away from their religions. I wish them happiness on the holidays they celebrate, and I "like" any social media post they make that calls for social justice and criticizes their leaders for not speaking out about human rights, criminal behavior regarding children, etc. But I steer clear of commenting on their posts celebrating how great it is to be whatever religion they are, or how great their God/s is/are. It can be awkward when they get sick and ask for prayers - I can't offer that, and I feel they don't want what I can offer - or when they praise their God instead of the amazing medical care they have received and the scientists who produced the medicine that has made them better. It's most awkward when they post a testimonial of their love of their religions, and a criticism of those that don't believe as they do. Mostly, I ignore those posts.
Recently, a friend posted to a social media platform saying that to be an atheist is to be privileged and that atheists are arrogant and insensitive to ignore/dismiss the comfort and hope the Christian faith gives black Americans especially. I would love to quote the actual, entire post, but hours later, when I went to look for it, it was gone. I guess he realized he was a jerk thing to say and he deleted it. Or he feared what I would say...
But I haven't forgotten.
I most certainly believe being able to publicly declare one's atheism without fear of being fired, ostracized from family, socially excluded or murdered is a privilege. I am reminded of this as I look at the pixelated photos of the members of the Council of Ex-Muslims of Sri Lanka - they meet in secret and share photos on social media where their faces have been altered beyond recognition. Same for the Humanist Society Pakistan in celebrating World Humanist Day on 21 June. They want to let other atheists in their countries know that they are not alone, and maybe let religious people know that atheists are not monsters, but they must do so in very careful ways, to protect their own safety, jobs and families.
Being able to be open about my atheism with friends and neighbors is a privilege I enjoy, but even my privilege is limited: note that I don't use my real name here on this blog, for fear of what it will do to my professional career (though it's not hard at all to figure out who I am).
But is being an atheist only for the privileged? No.
The first thing that came to mind when I read my friend's diatribe was this quote:
"I'm an atheist, and Christianity appears to me to be the most absurd imposture of all the religions, and I'm puzzled that so many people can't see through a religion that encourages irresponsibility and bigotry. As my ancestors are free from slavery, I am free from the slavery of religion." It's from Butterfly Mcqueen, the actress, honored with the 1989 Freethought Heroine Award by the Freedom From Religion Foundation. I've written about her before.
Black American atheists have always been with us, and their words are some of the most important to me, personally, as an atheist. Probably the earliest evidence of atheism and agnosticism among black Americans comes from 19th-century slave narratives - yes, indeed, there were atheists among enslaved people. These are cited by Christopher Cameron, associate professor of history at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte, and the founder and president of the African American Intellectual History Society. He notes that the growth in Black American atheism coincided with the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and ’30s. Atheism and agnosticism have flourished more recently, and as Cameron puts it, "new black atheists are not content to personally reject religion but instead have a goal of spreading freethought to the broader black community. For example, the author Sikivu Hutchinson and the founder of Black Nonbelievers, Mandisa Thomas, argue that religion hurts the black community by promoting sexism, patriarchy and homophobia... These politics demand that black women must be chaste, temperate, industrious and socially conservative. Above all, they must be religious. They must always portray the race in the best light." Cameron also notes that feminism is an essential part of the new black atheists’ humanism, unlike most white atheist "leaders," at least the ones that regularly get cited, and I appreciate that viewpoint in particular. In fact, so much of the leadership I've found among Black American atheists are women, and I find myself following far more of them on social media than the usually cited white atheists "leaders" (all male).
I have been proud to have had the confidence of so many people, of a variety of ethnicities, who want to tell me that, indeed, they are atheists, they do not believe in the religion of their family, and they wish they could be open about it. They are happy to be freed from the mental and emotional limitations of religion, happy to be a part of a universe so much bigger and so much more full of possibilities than any religion has ever described, happy to no longer believe they are being punished or being given some kind of grand lesson as they or those they love suffer, and hopeful for their future as a full, rational human being. I will continue to value their insights and support them, and hope that, some day, they will feel safe enough to declare their belief in reason and the COMFORT they have received by rejecting all ideas of the supernatural, including God.
As the black atheist Sincere Kirabo says of Black Lives Matter: ‘There’s a social activist movement underway continuing the unfinished business of the Civil Rights movement era. Want to make a difference? What we need is grit and involvement in the struggle, not a tribe satisfied with the empty promises of scriptural white noise. Please, for the sake and love of our own futures: abandon your fabled white messiah. Wake up. We are our own salvation.’" Amen.
