Mandatory Prayer

My first grade school didn't have semesters or quarters or trimesters. It had, I don't know, quinters? Quintesters? Pentaresters?

Anyway we had five grading periods. They ended with the last school days respectively of October, December, February, April, and June.

Since our first grade was our first grade ever, we were all cut slack for the first Sept. & Oct. grading period. We were not graded. Instead school was generally a fun get-together, learn to socialize, fun fest. Each class would start with the Pledge of Allegiance and the Lord's Prayer. There was a little guided instruction in arithmetic, which I considered lame, some spelling drill, which I also didn't need, and loads of games and art sessions during which I ignored all instructions.

About the Pledge of Allegiance and the prayer: We were told that we couldn't be made to recite the Pledge. Some of the other kids knew what that was about. They explained that you could be a patriotic American or you could be a Jehovah's Witness. I wanted to be a Jehovah's Witness but I didn't know how to fake it, so I faked knowing the words to the Pledge instead.

I think it's interesting that both my first grade teacher and later my second grade teacher refused to lead us in the revised Eisenhower Pledge with the "under god" insertion. They balked for the reason it wasn't traditional. They were even older than 1936-born Congressman Jim McDermott, who famously hasn't got used to the new way.

When it came to the Lord's Prayer there was no conscientious objecting. You had to join in. This was a problem for me, because I never heard it before. At least I'd heard the Pledge, without having learned it. The Lord's Prayer was just complete news to me. My parents, I learned later, recited it every Sunday in church. But I had never joined them in church, and they never had reason to recite it at home. Once a week in church was enough.

WTF, WTF? Give us our daily bread? Our cup runneth over? Who talks like that? Who lets their cup run over? I get yelled at when I spill my cup. Runneth over with what? Who are all these trespassers? They're not going to get forgiven around here, they're gonna get SHOT.

The teachers didn't notice that I was just mumbling the words. The other kids did. That was enough for me to have to hear that I wasn't a good Christian.

I was for the Bible school. I wanted to learn about this Christianity thing I was supposed to be a part of. But it was hard to take that I was already going to be a bad Christian when I was still learning. I was still ready to give it a chance, but the seeds of my rejection of Christianity were there, partly sown by the Fundamentalist's dream of mandatory school prayers, partly by knowing that there was an alternative.