Schools and religion

Religion in schools is a big topic in the news at the moment, as The Humanist Society runs ads condemning schools that discriminate against children who lack a baptismal certificate.

 

As a non-religious person, the thought that my children could be turned away from the local school because they aren’t the correct religion is scary.

 

Schools seem just as religious as when I attended many years ago. My daughter is often removed from her classroom, along with the other irregular children, to draw pictures while the rest of the kids learn more about their own particular religious customs.

 

At a recent secondary school open day I had to fill out application forms with one of the teachers who asked questions and ticked boxes.

 

“And what religion are you?” she asked.

 

It struck me that this was such a peculiar question to be asking in this day and age.  Where else would someone one ask you this? At a job interview? No, of course not. At a dinner party? Doubtful. So why do schools still care so much about religion when no one else seems to?

 

I’m not and never have been religious, but the vast majority of my friends were brought up Catholic. None of them go to church regularly anymore. None. In fact, one friend was so upset by the child abuse revelations she looked into how to get herself out of the church.

 

About half of these friends still got their children baptised though. Why? It’s hard to give up on tradition; it meant a lot to their parents and it meant their children would have access to schools.

 

 

I told the teacher that we weren’t religious and tried to decipher the odd glance she gave me. Did she approve? Disapprove? Later I asked a pupil to tell me what that teacher taught. Science, she said. I sighed with relief. A least I hadn’t offended the Religion teacher.

 

My daughter was accepted to that school, despite her heathen upbringing. Apparently I’ll have to write many notes to get her excused from religion as an exam subject, but at least she’ll get to go to school.