From Slate’s advice column by Emily Yoffe –
Two years ago when my son was 10 he became very verbal about hating church and resisted going. My older son loves the teen group at Sunday school and assured his brother that when he made it out of the baby area, he, too, would love it. Well, he does not. Each Sunday morning he yells, pouts, and eventually succumbs to my threats.
Then he takes his snarky and unhelpful attitude to Sunday school. He doesn’t believe in God, and his very cool Sunday teacher works with that. I hated my boring church as a kid, and looking back I wonder, had I not gone to church would I have been a worse person? My husband was forced to attend his church when he was little. Now, he sleeps late Sunday morning, then hikes and does other activities. He is supportive of the fact that both our sons’ spiritual development is important to me. Do I force my son to go or give up?
—Mad as Hell Mom
No, you don’t force him to go. I wouldn’t call that giving up, I’d call it not forcing him to do something that shouldn’t be mandatory for anyone.
I too hated church as a kid. We didn’t go all that often, but when we did, I hated it. I hated Sunday school even more; I think I went only about twice.
We stopped going before I was old enough to refuse as opposed to complaining – long before I was twelve. Thank fuck for that. But I remain convinced that it’s not something parents should force on children, especially if they hate it. Of course many religious parents aren’t going to agree with me, but that’s what I think.
So I don’t like Yoffe’s reply.
You and your older son find spiritual and intellectual sustenance in the church, but your younger son finds the whole thing intolerable. You’ve been fighting this losing battle for two years, and if you keep going, your son will flee all observance as soon as he is able. I think you need to walk a more tolerant path. Tell your little atheist that you’ve been thinking about what he’s been saying about church, you’re tired of dragging him to Sunday school, and you’re reconsidering your stand. But before you do, you have a requirement he needs to fulfill. You want him to write an essay (minimum two typed pages) about the progression of his (dis)beliefs, and he must cite examples of people who have struggled with lack of faith—Biblical sources get extra credit. Then, if he takes this assignment seriously, release him. But say this doesn’t mean he gets to watch TV or play video games while his brother is getting religious instruction.
Jeezis. Punish him with homework, make his freedom from church conditional on doing the homework, and punish him in general for not going, just to make sure.
Godbotherers can be such bullies.
Dear Prudie is recommending “extra credits for Biblical sources”, eh? This kid should be made acquainted with the Skeptics Annotated Bible, and the writings of Dan Barker. I wish I had a way to reach these gems to the kid.
That would have been a nearly impossible assignment for me at that age. I never knew an atheist until I was 20, and didn’t know about any for the most part (I didn’t even know enough to know what to call myself, so I just didn’t think about it. I was very good with that). Our local resources on the topic were very limited, possibly nil (I grew up in one of the most heavily churched towns in Oklahoma). Without Internet (yes, I’m old), I’m not sure it would have been possible for me to complete such an assignment.
I saw that, too, and was at least equally disappointed with Yoffe’s “advice” – notice how the odious terms of the unpleasant “homework” requirement are such that Mom can say it’s not good enough no matter what the contents.
As if “religious instruction” is more valuable than watching TV or playing video games! *snort*
Notice this part you left off:
Have your husband agree that Sunday will be bonding time for the two skeptics. Maybe when they hike to the top of a mountain one day, your son will look around and feel a spiritual awakening.Yoffe’s recommending that Mom continue to micromanage and control her son’s leisure time, and, in addition, putting punitive control-freaky requirements on the husband/father, as well. Nobody’s allowed to relax and enjoy the weekend in THAT family unless they’re doing whatever Mom wants! As an advice columnist, she’s usually quite good, but in this case, she really logged a swing and a miss.
And displayed her god-botherer-y colors for all to see.
Isn’t it interesting the way adults insist upon the freedom to choose for themselves, but deny any such agency to their offspring, whom they usually require to be cookie-cutter copies of themselves? Such narcissism.
@2: “I’m not sure it would have been possible for me to complete such an assignment.”
That “assignment” is a huge problem here. Why should the kid have to justify his own beliefs or lack thereof? His mother isn’t justifying HERS to anyone – and shouldn’t she be setting the proper example in that regard? I’m sure Mom would defend to the death her right to choose for herself and insist upon how important choosing for herself in that regard is – so WHY is she so unwilling to acknowledge that her son is just as much of a *person* as SHE is??
What Prudie should have told Mom is that she needs to respect her son’s beliefs if she wants him to respect hers. It has to be a two way street. Perhaps she could have recommended that Mom write an essay (at least 10 pages in length, given her age and maturity) to convince her son of the rightness of her belief. Then, if the son is convinced, he will naturally want to attend church of his own volition. Wouldn’t that be better than forcing him to do all sorts of things he clearly hates?? After all, “discipline” comes from a root that means “to make a disciple of.” Shouldn’t Mom be *inspiring* her son rather than punishing him?? She’s clearly failing, so physician, heal thyself.
my threats.
Welcome to the kingdom of heaven.
Yeah. Hrm.
If it were about articulating his position, I think I might be in favor. “You can do anything that isn’t illegal or immoral, if you can articulate your reasons appropriately for a twelve year old.” Sure.
Instead I’m hearing a homework assignment that is not only punitive, but that I couldn’t have done before I was 40. (I had the writing skills by age 12, and the research skills when I was 16, but the brutal honesty required for a true self-examination… well… like I said, age 40.)
Also, points deducted for “you can’t just play video games while your brother is off being a better person than you.” Fuck that. I might be marginally supportive if video games were restricted on general principles, or limited to an hour in the evening, or some such. But what I’m hearing is that “religious instruction” is itself such a drudgery, that missing it requires commensurate drudgery.
How about, “While I’m off praising the Lord, which fills me with such delight, I want you to be recharged as much as I am, so I recommend you go hiking with your father”?
He wants the kid to justify his disbelief by citing the Bible? That’s not just punishing him with homework, it’s punishing him with ignorant and irrational demands that cannot be satisfied.
I thank Apollo and Athena every day that my (Catholic) father and (agnostic) mother weren’t such ridiculous assholes.
My husband was forced to attend his church when he was little. Now, he sleeps late Sunday morning, then hikes and does other activities. He is supportive of the fact that both our sons’ spiritual development is important to me.
So mom is a clueless god-botherer and dad is too spineless to take a stand against a practice he knows is wrong and possibly hurtful to his own son? Gotta love the family values there…
In some fairness to the nearly-absent dad, I should note that dad may be in a position where, if he takes a stand against mom’s irrational Christian indoctrination, mom will file for divorce (with the support of her church), and get full custody of both kids because she’s a good Christian and he’s an amoral atheist who would lead the kids into darkness.
From the headline, I felt sure this was going to be a story about a televangelist.
This seems to be one of the more irritating double standards for justifying or denying a religious faith. To justify it, you just have to say “it makes me feel good” or “it’s just how I was raised.” To deny it, you are challenged to write a FUCKING DISSERTATION complete with footnotes and sources.
Fuck that noise.
@#6
Your quote isn’t accurate. What she said was ” “you can’t just play video games while your brother is getting religious instruction.”
Maybe you think that “getting religious instruction” is the same as “being a better person than you”, but I don’t think you should assume Ms. Yoffe shares that opinion since that isn’t what she said. I certainly wouldn’t agree that those two phrases are interchangeable, even for a religious person.
Pity she wasn’t encouraged to do exactly that. Show the kid just how annoying church is to ensure he never returns.
Emily Yoffe Gives Bad Advice. In other news, it’s Tuesday.
No child of that age should be expected to present any sort of coherent progression of much of anything. The mother may come around somewhat, at least to the point of not badgering the recalcitrant son, but the advice-giver is fulla shit.
Beth @ 11 – you’ve said here that you’re very literal and that it’s helpful to be told when you’re taking something too literally, so this is me doing that: you took that comment @6 too literally. Of course the quote isn’t accurate; it wasn’t meant to be; it was a sarcastic misquote, in other words, an interpretation.
Taking things hyper-literally is quite a handicap for commenting here, I think, because I go in for a lot of sarcasm and so do many readers/commenters. If you don’t grok that you’re going to misunderstand a majority of what’s said, and then make pointless “corrections.” It’s a waste of everyone’s time and attention.
Raging Bee #8 wrote:
No, she doesn’t want him to justify his atheism using the Bible, she wants him to “cite examples of people who have struggled with lack of faith—Biblical sources get extra credit.” The emphasis here I think is on struggling with a lack of faith. In other words, after you tell me why you don’t believe I want you to give me examples of people who used to be atheists or who once doubted God’s existence or who originally fought against God’s authority — only to come round in the end. You could find certainly find this in the Bible, which is full of people (and nations) going against God or being tempted to go against God and subsequently repenting. The point of the essay isn’t to help the child articulate his reasons — it’s to help change his mind by forcing him to consider “positive” ex-nonbeliever role models.
Because people who react to beauty believe in God — and vice versa. Passive aggressive little remark on her part. Of course, they are dealing with a “little atheist.” Imagine how differently she’d react to an atheist complaining that her child wants to become a Christian and go to church with Daddy.
Now if Yoffe had said “Maybe suggest he could write an essay about his reasons if he felt like it,” I would think that was a good idea. If it were entirely optional and treated as something he might like to do, because it would be interesting – whole different story. But noooooooo, it had to be mandatory and full of stipulations, as if he were doing something terribly wrong. Ugh. And fie.
Sastra @ 16 – I think you’ve hit the nail on the head.
Ophelia Benson @ 17
I think the idea of asking the kid to articulate why he doesn’t want to attend is fine (with the caveat that it be judged appropriately for his age and intellectual development), even if it boils down to “it’s boring and stupid”. I would suggest that it is also appropriate that Mom commit to writing a similar essay explaining why she believes attending church is of value to the child.
While I’m loath to make assumptions about a stranger’s family dynamics or give parenting advice without such knowledge (if at all), I like the idea of setting aside Sunday mornings for Quality Time™, Mom and Number One Son can go to church, Dad and the Little Atheist can do something else that they find enriching and rewarding. At dinner they can share their experience in an atmosphere of mutual respect. (Also I’d like a pony.)
Me, I think even an inchoate “I don’t like it” should suffice to establish what the child feels about it, whether or not it’s considered good for the child.
Not being someone who ever wanted or had a child, I leave it there, other than to note that the responsibility as a parent of forcing a child to put up with something they don’t like because as a parent one thinks it’s the best thing is a major factor in my successful achievement of not having any children.
I thought faith was a calling. If god isn’t calling him, why are you blaming the kid?
Because he’s NOT LISTENING, that’s why.
Is this the same Emily Yoffe who told everyone that the reason college women get raped is that they drink? Some bloggers I know periodically scan her column for examples of bad advice to pillory.
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I agree, forcing the boy to go to church when he hates it is a good way to make him permanently hate religion of any kind (which I don’t think is the mother’s goal, though I’m sure a number of people here would consider it a good outcome.) If the mother were actually interested in getting her son to follow in her religious footsteps, she would do well to find out what is bothering him about going and see what her church could do to make it a place he’d want to go.
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However, that may not be possible. I was in the position of taking one of my sons to a religious organization he wasn’t happy with (a local Quaker meeting.) I spent a number of years trying to get the Sunday school to be more than just a dumping ground for the children, and finally left when several influential members said they didn’t see any reason why children hating the place was a reason to do anything different. I found a UU congregation (debatable whether that counts as “religion”) where the “religion” they taught was mainly kindness and respect, which they taught by example, plus some social service (e.g., making meals to be distributed to homeless people in NYC), and all of a sudden he actually wanted to go. (I wish I’d jumped ship years earlier — he missed the Our Whole Lives program.)
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I guess what bothers me most is the utter lack of respect for the personhood of the child. He’s not seen as a person, who might have real reasons for not wanting to go which deserve to be considered. Instead, he’s treated like a car that won’t start, to be bludgeoned into doing what his elders want. (Not that that approach works with cars, either.)
Personally, I think a Sunday morning hike with Dad would be a great idea, for both of them (modulated to 12yo endurance, of course). But then, going on a hike with my Dad was a typical Saturday or Sunday morning activity when I was growing up, so maybe I’m biased by experience.
And yeah, standing on a high place with the wind in your face, far above the mundane world of houses and roads and cars and work, feeling a bit of fatigue in your legs, but also feeling strong and knowing you can go another 5 miles (which is good because you still have to get back down), that’s a sort of “spiritual” experience, I suppose. Feels damn good, anyways. But that’s no reason to think God is speaking to you up there.
I think exploring the reasons behind the kid’s disbelief is an excellent idea. For one thing, it should clarify whether there is any additional reason he doesn’t want to go besides “doesn’t believe”, although that is certainly sufficient. When a 10-year-old becomes very verbal about hating church, I want to make sure he’s only reacting to the content of the service & classes and not to bad interpersonal relations with anyone involved in same.
While I think it’s a good idea for Little Atheist to clarify his reasons for disliking church, even if it is only for himself, I am worried about the potential backlash. If Mom From Hell realises that he’s lost for her cause (“spiritual development”? Really? Why only take him to your own church, then?), she may take her disappointment out on him.
As far as I’m concerned, there’s an important role here for Atheist Dad.