Everyone deserves to feel personally unrestrained from the confines of their family’s walls, which is why it is important for parents and guardians to present the opportunity of exploring alternate religions to children when they reach an age of understanding. If a child should choose at such an age to branch out, they shall feel as though they are allowed to identify with a belief that may not belong to the rest of their family. When parents choose to have their child born into a religion, more often than not, they are defining the belief system their adolescents will grow into and learn to live by, as that is traditionally a parent’s goal. Yet, in most cases, parents do not introduce their kids to the teachings of other religions simply for the purpose being that they do not want their youth to develop a different belief system than their own. However, many children who devote so much time and effort into a religion may discover that as they grow older, they are not exactly sure why they began to support such beliefs in the first place. The reason behind this is primarily the idea that children pursue the lessons taught by their parents and typically do not feel the need to question what they are told. What many kids and parents fail to recognize is how adults can manipulate the development of their child’s personal beliefs by generalizing the ideologies of a religion and characterizing such values to be the only plausibility.

Additionally, a vast majority of people view the idea of religion as a tradition that should be handed down among generations and pre-selected for the benefit of their child. Understandably, parents may choose to pass on their religion in order to maintain close ties with their child, for they fear rebellion, and perceive such a difference in beliefs might break the chain of tradition and separate the bond between guardian and child. However, the idea of “passing on” a religion is a concept that is very easily twisted in the minds of some adults. A good portion of religiously-affiliated adults can view “passing on” a faith as a tradition that should be enforced as opposed to being encouraged. This belief, that ramming an ideology into someone’s head while scorning every other contingency, is by far one of the most nefarious things parents can do. This is indoctrination; a child should never be denied accessibility to the teachings of another belief system, nor should they be required to inherit and stay true to a religion if they do not follow its ideologies. To no definite extent can a faith or worldly perspective be proven, just as the existence of a god is undeniably, by no measure, a contentious or conclusive subject of discussion.  No child’s voice should remain unheard or shunned because they have alternate values, yet, religious freedom is a grey area where children’s votes often go unheard. As a result, children are more often found to be born into their religions rather than being given the opportunity to seek a community or set of values on their own.

Moreover, certain religious measures can be taken at so young an age that children have their faith preset before they are able to comprehend what it truly is. By preselecting their beliefs and nudging them along through pre-K bible studies or Sunday school, parents are implanting religious morales in their children’s minds earlier than they are learning to do basic math. As a matter of fact, I was one of these kids.

My parents, now both Jewish, are strong believers in keeping faith and providing their children with religion at a young age. My mother was born into an alternate religion and later in life converted to Judaism, bringing me into the holy bath water with her as well. At the time, I had no objection to this idea, as one could imagine I was only five years of age and did (almost) everything my mother said. Thus, I began my a many days in Hebrew school listening to the cantor sing in a language I had yet to learn whilst watching the rabbi lift a holy scroll from the arc and dare not let it touch human skin. For years I attended Sunday school and temple services, where I sat for hours listening to sermons I could never fully pay attention to and all the while wearing stockings that made my skin feel strange. At age thirteen, I would become a woman, standing tall and nervously in front of friends and family while reading in Hebrew. It wasn’t until I stopped attending Sunday school every week and the days spent in temple lessened more and more that I began to question: Why do I believe in such ideologies? It was from then on, at age fourteen and moving forward, that I would silently begin to question all my teachings, my preconceived knowledge of some “higher being” in the sky, every hour spent in Hebrew school, and why every Friday night at dinner I uttered a prayer in a language I hadn’t ever understood.

It wasn’t until I was almost sixteen that I had begun to accept that I no longer believed in the religious teachings I had spent years acquiring. Such concepts weren’t logical and I struggled to identify where I stood based on my values. I had a difficult time believing that a spirit in the sky had created the Earth in six days, along with a woman who was told by a talking snake to eat fruit on a tree that would give her the power of reason. I also often questioned why, if we really are the children of a god who is supposedly all-knowing, an all-powerful being would allow for things like rape, natural disasters, homicides, and terminal illnesses to occur.

 However, at the same time, I was morally conflicted; my parents had taught me that all of these teachings were true, and I had spent nearly a decade and a half dedicated to such beliefs. Originally, I felt as though I was betraying my ties with my family and community, but I came to understand that it was alright to branch out and classify my own ideologies. At age sixteen I had officially identified myself as an atheist, and although I had come to terms with my outlooks, it was even more difficult to tell my parents.

   “That’s sad,” was the initial response my from my mother.

   “You’re an atheist now?? What happened? You used to wear Stars of David,” remarked my father.

 Although I had waited to tell my parents about my change in beliefs, the topic of religion had also never come up beforehand; they had assumed that I still identified with Judaism and believed in God, for they had every reason to. However, the lack of discussion on this certain topic had gone on for far too long; so long that my father had no clue that I identified as an atheist up until the summer before my senior year. Despite this, I did not feel much remorse for holding back on revealing my non-religious standings since my parents did, in fact, fall into the category of adults who preselected their children’s religion before they were able to comprehend it. Not only did my parents believe that such a decision was okay, but they also did not reveal their unbiased teachings toward Judaism and faith in general, making me believe that it was customary to follow along with their original beliefs. In spite of this, I had wanted to branch out and discover principles outside of the walls of the temple and my family, yet that desire was only minuscule after a certain period of time. Originally, even after I had classified my new values, I found that I was still attempting to fake how I partook in religious situations with my family; whether it were inaudibly mouthing the words to the Friday night prayer or staying silent when the topic of symbolism came about, I did not want to disappoint my family. I realized that my behavior was ridiculous; no matter what my beliefs, they will continue to love and care for me, even if they do judge my non-faith values.

The most important lesson I learned from concealing my ideologies was that it was not worth the time spent lurking in the shadows of my own mind, to creep around the conclusion that I was able to self-identify my own beliefs; for everyone deserves to feel at large from the limitations in which their community and family may bring.