By Dan Barker

On Oct. 13, I participated in my 128th publicly moderated debate. It took place in the huge Calvary Church in Charlotte, N.C., where I had been invited by the Southern Evangelical Seminary (founded by Norman Geisler) to debate Richard Howe on the topic, "Is there a God who speaks?" It was part of the seminary's National Conference on Christian Apologetics. The event that evening, sponsored by the American Family Association, was intended to show attendees how to debate an atheist.

It was fun to be standing in a pulpit again. I told the large mainly evangelical Christian audience that I was feeling some of those old feelings wash over me. "I have an almost irresistible urge to take up a collection," I said. To their credit, they laughed heartily.

The most exhausting part of a debate is not the event itself. Nor is it the preparation. If you are prepared, the debate can be relaxing and fun, an "in the moment" adventure where you feel very much alive.

The most exhausting part is when it is over. Because it isn't really over. After Howe and I had finished debating for two hours, the moderator (Christian author Frank Turek) told the audience that we would be available to talk personally with anyone who still had questions. When we got out into that huge megachurch foyer, we were mobbed by people wanting to "have a go" at us. It was mostly friendly and polite — maybe because I had reminded them that their key apologetic verse (I Peter 3:15) commands Christians to do it with "gentleness and reverence" — but since it was very noisy and my voice was getting hoarse, I basically had to shout to be heard. This went on for more than an hour.

It was nice to meet some FFRF members and local freethinkers. But most of the crowd pressing around me were young Christians. A couple of them were argumentative and intense — one guy insisting loudly that "existence is a property!" — but most were genuinely polite and appreciative.

One pleasant young man who looked like a college student approached me with a concerned look. "How is your left knee feeling?" he asked.

"My left knee? That's a strange question. My knees are fine."

He looked confused. "Are you sure your left knee is OK? Are you feeling any pain?"
"No. My knees are just perfect." I did a little kick in the air to show him. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I was led by the spirit to pray for your left knee," he replied. He came closer, as if to perform faith healing. I did a little jig to show him that my legs were in good working order.

"Well, the spirit deceived you, didn't it?" I said.

He took a step backward. "No. I guess it was my sinful mistake."

"If my knees actually were hurting," I continued, "you would have counted that as evidence for a spiritual world, wouldn't you?"

He nodded.

"Then you should count this failure as evidence against your belief."

He just stared at me.

"If you would count all of your prayers, not just the few apparent successes, you will see that they add up to no more than random chance."

"I'm a broken sinner," he said quietly.

"No," I replied. "You are simply deluded." As he and his friends turned to leave, I almost had to yell to be heard in that noisy room. "But there's a cure for that! It's called reason."

Then another young man of high-school age came up to me with a nervous smile.

"Thank you for coming," he said excitedly. "I agree with everything you said."

"Thank you," I replied, shaking his hand.

"I've had those same thoughts for a long time," he continued, "and I have never heard anyone say them like you did." We talked for half a minute, and then he asked if he could take a picture with me.

"Sure!" I said. His friend held up a camera as he moved to stand beside me, but before the shot could be taken, a woman grabbed the boy's arm and rudely pulled him away from me. "No, you don't," she said. "We're leaving now." She dragged him out of the building before we could say goodbye.

That must have been a humiliating experience. But I'm sure he will never forget it. When he gets into college, I hope he emails me to tell me that freedom of thought is not so easily suppressed. Maybe I will give a talk to his secular group on campus someday, and we can finish taking that photo.
Dan Barker is co-president of FFRF.

Federal judge rules that atheists can give opening invocations

A federal judge ruling in a case involving FFRF and its central Florida chapter has provided a huge victory to those fighting for state-church separation.

In a decision released Sept. 30, U.S. District Judge John Antoon II, in the U.S. District Court for the Middle District of Florida, struck down the Brevard County, Fla., Board of County Commissioners' exclusion of nontheists from giving pre-meeting invocations. In its ruling, the court says a local governing body cannot limit invocation officiants exclusively to those from monotheistic traditions.

"The great promise of the Establishment Clause is that religion will not operate as an instrument of division in our nation," the court states in its concluding section, quoting another recent decision. "Regrettably, religion has become such an instrument in Brevard County."

The plaintiffs in the case include the Central Florida Freethought Community (a chapter of FFRF) and its Chair David Williamson; the Space Coast Freethought Association and its President Chase Hansel; the Humanist Community of the Space Coast and its President Keith Becher; and Brevard County resident Ronald Gordon.

Williamson, an FFRF member, said Brevard County is the only government body not to give his organization an opportunity to present an invocation. He said more than 20 counties, cities and towns in central Florida have agreed to do so.

"Nobody has given us the grief or the pushback that Brevard County has given us," Williamson told Florida Today. "It's been unsettling and disappointing to be treated like second-class citizens."

According to Courthouse News, court documents show that between 2010 and 2016, all but seven invocations at county board meetings were given by Christians. The others were prayers given by those of the Jewish faith. In depositions, some commissioners expressed an unwillingness to allow Muslims or Hindus to give the pre-meeting prayer.

"It is unconstitutional for any governing body to discriminate against people who don't believe in God," says Alex J. Luchenitser, associate legal director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State and lead counsel in the case. "Yet that is exactly what Brevard County did through its prayer policy. We're pleased that the court put an end to the county's discriminatory practice."

Brevard County Attorney Scott Knox said he will recommend to the County Commission that the county appeal the judge's ruling.

The Williamson v. Brevard County lawsuit was filed in 2015 by FFRF, Americans United for Separation of Church and State, the American Civil Liberties Union, and the American Civil Liberties Union of Florida on behalf of multiple plaintiffs. It asserted that Brevard County's rejection of atheists, humanists and other nontheists who sought to deliver solemnizing messages at the beginning of board meetings violated the U.S. and Florida Constitutions.

The civil liberties groups noted that in its 2014 decision, Town of Greece v. Galloway, the U.S. Supreme Court made clear that local governments cannot discriminate based on religion when selecting who will deliver invocations to open government meetings. Yet the Brevard board argued that it had no obligation to include nontheists. The court disagreed.

The lawsuit is being litigated by Rebecca S. Markert and Andrew L. Seidel of the FFRF; Luchenitser and Steven Gey Fellow Bradley Girard of Americans United; Nancy Abudu and Daniel Tilley of the ACLU of Florida; and Daniel Mach of the ACLU Program on Freedom of Religion and Belief.

A federal judge on Sept. 28 sided with FFRF and its local members in declaring unconstitutional a Latin cross on a Pennsylvania county seal and flag.

U.S. District Judge Edward Smith's decision against Lehigh County, Pa., can only be described as begrudging. But he concedes that "a reasonable observer would perceive the county seal as endorsing Christianity." Smith noted that the yellow Christian cross, which both parties agree is "the pre-eminent symbol of Christianity," dwarfs other symbols on the seal and therefore shows unconstitutional county endorsement.

"The undisputed facts demonstrate that the county's original purpose for including a cross on the seal is not secular," Smith writes. "The county's stated reason for retaining the seal in 2015 was to honor its original settlers who were Christian, and the county clarified that it based this reasoning on an interpretation of Commissioner [Harry] Hertzog's statements."

The federal lawsuit was filed in August 2016 in the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, naming Lehigh County as sole defendant. FFRF's co-plaintiffs are four of its local members who've objected to encountering the religious symbol on county property. The seal is on documents, letterhead, many official county forms and reports, the county's website, in a display in the Board of Commissioners meeting room and even on flags displayed prominently at the entrance of county buildings.

The county commissioners voted to appeal the decision, which will be filed in the 3rd U.S. Court of Appeals.

FFRF warmly thanks its four local plaintiffs who made the lawsuit possible: John Berry, Stephen Meholic, David Simpson and Candace Winkler. The litigation is being handled by Marcus B. Schneider of Pittsburgh, with assistance from FFRF Staff Attorneys Patrick Elliott and Elizabeth Cavell.

Humans have constantly cooked up new ways to explain what they perceive in the world. When there are things they can't explain, they let it stew in their heads and eventually a way to explain it is served. One of those ways is religion. Religion has been used to understand and to moralize since the earliest days of humans.

But of those ways to solve problems, religion is only an optional ingredient.

For me, I have always been passionate about the environment. My mindset for caring is that there is an aesthetic value to keeping the Earth clean. It is also a concern for public health, and I concern myself with the well-being of the people and animals on this planet. When passion is mixed in with action, a healthy serving of effective change is made.

When I tell people I am atheist, they often ask how I got that way. It started when I was 5 years old. I was sitting in a local Baptist church with my family. People in the church were dancing and shaking as they "felt the Lord." My sister exclaimed, "I feel him; I feel the Lord," and in that moment, I realized I didn't. I waited. Waiting turned to wondering. In that moment of isolation, I decided. From then on, I never went to church unless I had to, and I stopped reading the religious books. As a young mixed girl in a conservative county, I kept this hidden from everyone. When I was called rude names for the color of my skin, I just thought of the good in people because in my eyes, "everyone means well," as my late grandfather would always say.

I had faith in humanity, but I had no faith in God. I didn't know it at the time, but I was an atheist. This past year I helped to start an interfaith group and made sure that my voice as an atheist was heard. Despite my beliefs — or maybe because of them — I have an appreciation for religion because it is like a leftover soup. For me, I didn't care for all the extra ingredients and went straight for the broth, and I enjoy it just the same.

Dia graduated from Huntingtown High School in Huntingtown, Md., and now attends the University of Vermont.

I, like many people, had abused religion to excuse my immoral behavior and inaction in the face of injustice. When I did things that were unjust, I convinced myself that God had forgiven me. When I turned a blind eye to all the wrong in our world and sat by idly, I convinced myself that if I simply prayed or waited patiently enough that God would fix it, even if I did nothing.

But there came a day when I got tired of waiting for a god to fix the world for me. I realized that I had the ability to set my own standards for the kind of person I wanted to be, and that I had the responsibility for upholding those standards.

As I entered high school, I embraced humanism wholeheartedly, and began fighting for justice for all people on the basis of race, gender, sexual orientation, disability status, and the like.

I started the first high school Black Student Union in my city, through which I organize numerous vigils, protests and forums. I started a mentoring program between my school and the Boys & Girls Club.

I also have been chairperson of the Mayor's We Day/Give A Day Board, through which I raised over $30,000, collected more than 60,000 personal care items for refugees, and organized a Compassion Walk with over 3,000 in attendance. I have done multiple speeches about the way that poor sex education disproportionately harms people of color, queer people, and people of lower incomes. Furthermore, I started a club devoted to the inclusion and empowerment of people with disabilities, and hosted a fundraiser for that club which raised over $40,000. Lastly, I started the first Girl Up chapter (a United Nations Organization dedicated to empowering women and girls globally) in my state and raised thousands of dollars for girls seeking education and healthcare in Guatemala.

If I had not chosen to embrace humanism and take responsibility for my morality rather than leaving it up to religion, I likely never would have become the activist I am today.
Lydia graduated from duPont Manual High School in Louisville, Ky. She is attending New York University and plans to major in politics and economics She was the first-place winner in FFRF's 2017 Essay Contest for Students of Color, announced in the August issue of Freethought Today.

A little girl sat at her desk and crafted a paint-splattered masterpiece. The other children chatted about the little things that consumed the common sixth-graders' attention: who was crushing on the cutest boy, the latest shenanigans of the class clown, and hopes of the cafeteria serving ravioli for lunch. But she was different, and she knew it. So she remained quiet, consumed in her own mental world.

She continued filling the spaces of her existence with pastels just as bright as her mind. Then, she overheard comments of a deeper context. "I love Jesus." "I go to church every Sunday!" "Do you read the bible?" She twitched. She silently cringed. She felt dangerously brave.

I looked up and said, "God isn't perfect."

During my youth, I attended a church that often left me feeling empty inside. Sermons were boisterous, beautiful in the way that hymns captivated the broken souls sitting in the pews.

I sat and watched people pour their problems into a mysterious being. The same god who claimed to promote peace and love desecrated the lives of millions of people every day.

Confusion and anger plagued my conscience. With every Sunday that passed, I realized a raw truth: Blind trust is intoxicating.

When asked the question, "Do you believe in God?" I awkwardly reply, "I don't know," or "I am trying to figure that out." Rarely am I asked, "What do you believe in?"
I do not live without a moral compass. None of us do; the human propensity consists of the need to delineate good and evil.

Why attach divisive religions to this natural phenomenon? Good and evil mingle inside each and every one of us.

With empathy as my fuel and passion as my road map, I navigate life fiercely fighting for all that I think is right. What truly warms my soul, I get to define that. Not society, not a deity, not a centuries-old tome, and certainly not a little kid sitting across from me in art class. I am free. My morality isn't based in blind trust; instead, my morality is simply, utterly and beautifully, mine.

Sydney graduated from Loomis Chaffee High School in Windsor, Conn. She is attending the University of Pennsylvania with plans to major in nursing.

As a child, I attended weekly church services with my parents, two progressives who, while not self-righteous churchgoers, believe in God and support religious institutions.

As I started to learn more about poverty, racism, ethnocentrism, homophobia and the many atrocities that occur across the globe, I began to develop an identity as a nonreligious person.

I not only grew up in rural Iowa as an agnostic, I grew up as a gay, African-American male.

It was not uncommon for me to see, hear and feel firsthand how my peers used religion as a means of stigmatizing and sometimes excluding those whom they deemed to be living an unholy life — namely gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender individuals.

Naturally, my lived experiences have shaped my views on social issues and the world. More so, they have taught me much about the work that humans must do to ensure equality for all. Working to ensure social justice for everyone, particularly those most vulnerable in our society, is of critical importance to me.

Recognizing that human action is the only means for creating social change, I have worked hard to make contributions that can help make our society more just. My primary contributions have come through my service as co-chair of the Diversity Alliance and as a student council class representative in my high school. For instance, this spring, I led a collaboration between the Diversity Alliance, Student Council, and the Fellowship of Christian Athletes that was designed to address the post-election rise in hateful comments by students in my school. These efforts culminated in a week of activities called "Own Your Words Week" that helped to educate students about the impact that derogatory language can have on others. Additionally I helped support and run the Invisible Closet, a secret thrift store that low-income students could visit on campus to obtain needed clothes free of cost and stigma.

In all, I have tried to abide by the principles of humanism, acting each day with full knowledge that, if our world is to become a site of justice and equality, it is I, along with others, who must take the steps to make it so.

Elijah graduated from Grinnell Community Senior High School in Grinnell, Iowa, and now attends Middlebury College, where he plans to major in sociology and study Spanish and Portuguese.

Nicole received a $2,000 Thomas Jefferson Student Activist Award from FFRF. This scholarship is made possible thanks to generous FFRF members, a Washington couple who prefers to remain anonymous.

By Nicole Niebler

Even though I've been an agnostic atheist since high school, I had not been exposed to any sort of activism until college. Growing up in a conservative Catholic family in suburban Milwaukee, I only started to stand up for secular values when I joined the Freethought Society at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, now known as the UW-Eau Claire Secular Student Alliance (SSA). Joining the Freethought Society instilled a drive in me to stand up for progressive values and set me on a path toward more secular activism.

My turning point for secular activism was planning an impromptu counterdemonstration to combat the hate brought to campus by inflammatory preacher "Brother Jed." Fellow SSA members and I created and held signs next to him that stated various positive messages, such as "Smile. You're beautiful!" among other secular, uplifting phrases. Although seemingly miniscule, that first event sparked my passion for secular activism.

At my first SSA conference that following summer before I transferred to the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I met officers of a group called Atheists, Humanists and Agnostics (AHA) from UW-Madison. While I had already applied for an officer position with the group, little did I know I would meet some of the most inspiring and treasured people. Their friendship, kindness and introspection would heavily impact my life.

With my graduation right around the corner, I have been the president of AHA for two years after serving as a volunteer and a service chair for a year. With AHA, I have helped the organization host several prominent speakers, lead two annual Freethought Festivals, participated in numerous weekly secular peer support meetings, and hosted more social events than I could possibly count.

The mission of AHA is to build a secular community and to promote a discussion of one's faith or lack thereof on campus. This mission is one I fully stand behind and have poured thousands of hours into fulfilling because I believe it is of utmost importance to provide welcoming secular communities for young people in a world where nonbelievers are seen as immoral, angry, pessimists and where Christianity is a necessity of being a good human being.

This unequal societal juxtaposition of immoral nonbelievers to moral Christians fuels me to continue to be an activist. Recently, I filed a complaint against a local housing complex — the Lumen House — regarding its discrimination against non-Catholics via an unfair rental scholarship for Catholics that must be signed by the priest of a Catholic church. I refuse to stand by while fellow students and citizens of Madison are discriminated against simply because they do not follow a particular religion. Everyone deserves to be treated equally, regardless of religious beliefs, affiliations or lack thereof.

Among other things, I am a humanist. I will do everything within my power to fight for what's right, whether that is providing a community for those looked down upon in society, taking a stand against discrimination and unequal treatment, or being a positive example of an agnostic atheist for friends and family members to illustrate that we can be good without God.

A native of Pewaukee, Wis., Nicole Niebler attends the University of Wisconsin-Madison and is pursuing a major in dietetics and a certificate of global health. In her spare time she enjoys singing and playing ukulele at open mic nights, painting, and cooking from scratch.

Cierra Fields is cancer survivor, rape survivor who fights for everyone

Cierra received a $1,000 Strong Backbone Student Activist Award endowed by a kind octogenarian FFRF member from New York, who prefers to remain anonymous, and donates the scholarship fund annually to celebrate his birthday.

Despite being just 17 years old, Cierra Fields has a long history of fighting back, standing up, and most recently, sitting down for her rights.

Fields, a high school senior in Fort Gibson, Okla., was removed from her classroom for refusing to stand for or say the Pledge of Allegiance on Feb. 28.

"After I said I was not going to participate, my teacher raised her voice and said she refused to educate ungodly and unpatriotic students," she told the Indian Country Media Network.

Fields said that the teacher took her into the hallway, "in direct view of some of the students," and yelled at Fields about how the teacher's father missed a year of her life in Vietnam and how her husband was an Afghanistan war veteran. But Fields' father is also a military veteran, who served 10 years in the U.S. Army.

"So when this teacher removed me from class, questioned my beliefs, and berated me about disrespecting her father/husband's military service while also telling me that I dishonored my own father, she apparently did not know who she was unloading on," Fields wrote in an email to FFRF.

"My parents have raised my sister and me to know our rights and to fight for our beliefs at all times, even when no one else does. Thankfully, my parents also believe in freethinking. They may not necessarily agree with all my thoughts or ideas, but honor the fact that they are my thoughts and ideas. Obviously, my parents support my decision to sit quietly and resist the teacher's shaming/bullying behavior."

It's not just sitting for the pledge that has gained Fields her notoriety.

Fields, a member of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma, is a two-time melanoma survivor who, at age 12, began volunteering for the Cherokee Nation Comprehensive Cancer Control Program and the American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network.

When Fields was 14, she was honored as a Champion for Change by the Center for Native American Youth in Washington, D.C., by Sen. Byron Dorgan for her cancer prevention work. "This honor allowed me to expand my message to a national Native population and I began traveling across the U.S. talking to Native youth," she wrote.

Then, at age 15, she was raped.

"I had become a part of one of the most appalling statistics in America," Fields wrote. "One in three Native women are raped in their lifetimes. Think about that. One in three. But I have the most amazing parents and support system. I reported my rape immediately and successfully prosecuted my rapist, who also is now an appalling statistic, too. Only two out of 100 rapists are ever convicted of their crime."

Her activist genes kicked into overdrive.

"I began speaking out as soon I could," she wrote. "Rape has such a stigma and taboo overtones. I refused to hide because I did nothing wrong. I now speak out for those who cannot or are not ready to. Rapists count on our silence and I refuse to be silent."
Fields has been a delegate to the United Nations 58th Commission on the Status of Women, a 2016 White House Changemaker, and was honored at the United States of Women by First Lady Michelle Obama.

In March, she attended the Youth Summit in Washington, D.C., as a member of the board for Raliance, a group that is pushing to "end sexual violence in one generation."

Despite much of her time spent in her activism, Fields is also an award-winning Southeastern Woodland textile artist who specializes in twinning fabric and netting. She creates traditional feather capes worn by her ancestors, as well as traditional clothing from the 18th century to modern tribal dress. She is also a jingle dancer and enjoys dancing at pow wows.

Fields plans to attend college in the fall. While already accepted to six colleges, she is still waiting to hear from her top picks, including Harvard, Stanford, Mount Holyoke, Brandeis, Vassar, Wellesly, MacAlester, Haverford and Amherst.

Because she stood for the Constitution by sitting down for the pledge, FFRF is proud to offer her the Strong Backbone Award.

"I was shocked when this happened because I had not had a teacher go this far before," Fields wrote. "Sadly, she didn't want to hear about the First Amendment or West Virginia School State Board v. Barnette or my personal beliefs. I hope that my story gives others the courage to take a stand for what they believe in, too."

This special scholarship of $5,000 is generously endowed by longtime FFRF members and supporters Richard and Beverly Hermsen.

By Cidney Fisk

During my junior year of high school, I protested an amendment to the Colorado Constitution that would give fetuses personhood status. I wore a costume urging voters to vote "no" on the amendment. I was asked to take the costume off because of my student government teacher, who claims, "God made babies, and abortion is murder."

Later in that year, I posted on Instagram that I "don't particularly like attending Delta High School." After this was noticed by staff members, I was called into the counseling office where two faculty members waited for me. They had asked me to remove my post. They told me my behavior was "negative" and if it continued they "would hate to see me lose leadership positions and letters of recommendation." This was a threat.

They also told me I could not fight every battle, citing my objections to school policy. After a while, I felt as though other secular students probably felt the same way and deserved a safe space. I sought to start a secular student alliance, but was denied a staff facilitator.

In October of my senior year, I found out through a staff member that we would be forced to watch a presentation on sexual education that was entitled the "W.A.I.T. Training Program." I researched the program and read reviews on it and found it was a faith-based program. I questioned the staff about the program. They promised it would be perfectly legal and fine.

My parents, a friend and I attended a presentation by Shelly Donahue, a traveling speaker of faith-based abstinence-only information. While there, she attributed the downfall of America and the increase of sex to Planned Parenthood and the Obama administration. Religion was cited several times throughout the presentation.

Donahue then appeared for an assembly at Delta High School on Oct. 18, 2015. I had organized a silent protest in which my friends and I wore shirts with anti-abstinence-only sex-ed slogans.

In Donahue's slideshow that accompanied the presentation, a crucifix appeared on every slide. In her presentation, she noted that "Having sex before marriage brings you further from God."

In both my junior and senior years, I was a member of student government classes. I was awarded A's in both semesters in class during my junior year, as well as in the first semester of my senior year.

But when college application and scholarship deadlines rolled around, my application for the Boettcher full-ride scholarship was flagged by a member of the foundation. I also had met all the qualifications for the Daniels full-ride scholarship. I was denied both scholarships and didn't make it to semifinals or finals in the application process.

When I applied to college, the guidance counselor refused to send in my transcripts to the places I applied. I had submitted my request far before the deadline. Three days before it was due, my transcripts still were not in. After several confrontations by my parents with the counselor, my transcripts barely made it to my chosen schools on time.

Another instance where I felt harassed was when Delta Middle School was handing out Gideon bibles, and allowing students to hassle others for not accepting the bibles. This prompted the Western Colorado Atheists and Freethinkers and the Satanic Temple to try to distribute their literature in Delta Public Schools. When the school board decided that it had to let them do so, the Grand Junction Sentinel interviewed me about what I had thought about the issue. I came out publicly as an atheist in this article.

The day before and of the distribution, death threats against me and any other atheists were posted on message boards on Facebook. Most of the threats were made by fellow students. My dad filed a police report and notified the administration. Neither of them did anything about it.

The day after the article was published and the distribution occurred was a Saturday and the first day of spring break. In the days prior, I had checked my grades and all was fine. But that Saturday, my grade in Student Council/government went from a 98 to a 69.

The teacher had input three months' worth of F's. I had no idea what caused this dramatic drop. My parents and I emailed the teacher who had dropped my grade. When I returned to school, the teacher and my principal called me into a meeting in which they had tried to explain the decline of my grade. They mentioned the newspaper article four times and assured me it was not about that. I think that's suspicious. In the end, they noted my "questioning of authority," particularly religious authority, as the reason for my decline in grades. They told me I was being highly disrespectful. They told me that if I wanted my grades to go up, I would "shut up" and "fake it 'til I make it."

After graduation, I told my story to some blogs and media outlets and once again became a target of harassment.

Students from Delta High School and members of the community said horrible things about me on social media, urging me to be exiled, calling me an attention whore and a liar, and criticizing my parents for raising me. There was even a planned protest to cut truck pipes and blow exhaust on me and my family during my scholarship presentation organized by Western Colorado Atheists and Freethinkers.

But in the end, I found solace in the secular community. My move to Denver has been life-changing. I no longer feel like a criminal for not believing in a god.

"I am a 2016 Delta High School graduate. I'm a freshman at the University of Denver, where I am studying political science and public policy. I'll be turning 20 this year. I enjoy traveling with my college debate team in order to participate in British parliamentary style debate. So far, I've made it to Colorado Springs, San Diego and Tacoma. I'm excited to be engaged in both secular and political communities, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for me."

Bullying, harassment, threats force plaintiff to remain anonymous

The high school student in FFRF's ongoing federal lawsuit, FFRF v. Concord Community Schools, is the recipient of a $5,000 student scholarship generously endowed by FFRF members Richard and Beverly Hermsen. "Jack" and his family are the original plaintiffs in this federal lawsuit in Indiana.

For 45 years, Concord Community High School in Elkhart, Ind., has been holding a show called "Concord's Christmas Spectacular." Families from all over the community attend, nearly always selling out all performances.

The show's first half consists of classic Christmas songs performed by the students who participate in the dance team, band, choir and orchestra. Following an intermission, the second half is a 20-minute segment dedicated to the retelling of the birth of Jesus Christ. It includes a full reading by a school staff member directly from the bible, while selected students are displayed, dressed as all the characters in the nativity scene. This is an infringement on the First Amendment and my rights as a student in a public high school.

I didn't know what to do. I felt awkward and out of place being made to perform in the second half of the show. As I started to reach out with my concerns, I began to see I wasn't alone. Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, Jewish and atheist students had been pressured to participate in this dedicated showcase, even though they didn't believe in it.

Performances mandatory

Because the performances were mandatory, we had no choice but to go along with the school's program (or we would have our grades significantly reduced). This had to change. Someone had to stand up against this injustice, and not just for their own rights, but for the rights of their peers, as well. Little did I know, this would cause persecution and hatred throughout the community.

On Sept. 15, 2015, I finally became aware of just how entrenched Christianity was in my school system. After the school received the initial letter from Freedom From Religion Foundation stating that what Concord had been doing was completely unconstitutional and asking that it make changes, the superintendent of Concord Community Schools, John Trout, addressed the community at a school board meeting.

Trout stated the nativity portion of the Christmas Spectacular would not be changing. He received cheers from the packed room filled with parents, citizens and ministers.

Concord High School is supposed to be a secular public high school, but it was evident that there was a major Christian problem inside our walls. Throughout my years of attendance, Concord High School had a biology instructor who was teaching the students that the Earth was only 6,000 years old. This "educator" taught that humans and dinosaurs not only existed concurrently, but also survived a global flood together aboard a boat built by a 600-year-old man.

Now, to top it off, you have a superintendent who thinks the birth of a god-man not only has basis in reality, but is also an important part of everyone's Christmas celebration.

Legal action taken

After Trout's statement was made, we took legal action. The case must have scared him, because shortly after the press announced that the lawsuit had been filed, he changed his story and gave testimony that Concord High School had already planned on making changes to the nativity portion of the Spectacular even before FFRF got involved.

After the lawsuit was filed, time seemingly stepped back a few centuries in our community. Nonbelievers in our community were actively sought out, threatened and ridiculed. Students began blaming different people from week to week. Students would share gossip with their parents, and their parents would share these names on social media.

As an anonymous plaintiff, this was one of the hardest things to bear. Day after day, social media was littered with the names of many of my fellow students, calling them out as the "Doe family." My heart wrenched as those students were bullied and harassed.

It also reminded me, though, why anonymity was so important. The Christians in the Concord community were on a witch hunt. A visit to any social media story about Concord's nativity will show examples of name-calling, harassment and threats. These commenters would name parents and children they believed to be behind the lawsuit.

Hatred on social media

Suddenly, a Facebook page surfaced called "Save Concord's Christmas Spec's Nativity Scene," and this quickly became a place for hateful Christians to gather, with the page administrators encouraging it. It worried me what they would feel justified in doing to an innocent community member in the name of their God. Threats filled the page. People were saying they should "fight fire with fire" and burn the Does' house down. One parent even posted that they were going to have their kid find Jack Doe at school and show him what happens when he opens his mouth.

When the judge told Concord that they couldn't have a live nativity during the 2015 Christmas Spectacular, Concord took the judge's words literally. They secretly replaced the "live" nativity scene with one made of mannequins, instead of students, so they didn't technically have a "live" nativity scene. I simply can't describe the feeling of sadness and disappointment I felt as the curtain raised and the auditorium erupted with applause and cheers for Jesus by name.

Hundreds of pro-nativity shirts were sold and worn by the community. Yard signs were placed throughout the community supporting the injustice, and vehicle decals supporting the nativity were distributed, as well.

The upside to this was that it was ultimately their undoing, as the judge stated that all these things influenced his final decision. On March 7 of this year, U.S. District Court Judge Jon DeGuilio ruled the scene featuring live student actors as Mary, Joseph and other biblical figures had indeed been an unconstitutional endorsement of Christian beliefs.

My legal challenge against my own high school that began in 2015 had finally come to a close. However, the school ended up being allowed to include a static nativity scene featuring mannequins to represent the biblical figures. The school also added one Jewish song, with no lyrics, that was played by the orchestra to represent Hanukkah and one song from the choir, in a different language, to represent Kwanzaa in the second half of the show.

The judge ruled this adjusted performance didn't violate the Constitution. Since the ruling, we have decided to appeal to the U.S. Court of Appeals to hopefully rid Concord of the nativity scene and any other religious endorsement. A ruling in our favor by the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals would set a precedent for other religious practices in any public school and place all schools around the country on notice.

Seth received $1,000, partially funded by the Allen P. Wilkinson Student Activist Award.

By Seth Manning

The constitutional ideal of church and state separation may seem vital to those who describe their personal belief as atheistic or agnostic. As a Christian who believes in the U.S. Constitution, I can't help but to fight for it, as well. I think much of this comes from my experience as an LGBT individual in the South.

Northeast State Community College in Blountville, Tenn., was founded in 1966, and a graduation prayer has been recited for as long as records show. Given the demographic nature of northeast Tennessee, this shouldn't be surprising. Christians make up a clear majority, but, as time goes on, an influx of a younger generation with less focus on religion has materialized. This increasing diversity of opinions finally led to a showdown in the Volunteer State over the prayer.

The debate was not new to the school before I enrolled. In fact, it had been an issue that both faculty and students had raised for nearly the last decade. Initial attempts to remove it were ignored by a president who was vocal in her religion. After the threat of legal action, prayer was removed from the program two years ago.

Many thought the debate was over and a moment of silence would hold. However, as graduation was wrapping up last year, the president of the college used the closing remarks to lead a Christian prayer. Students, including myself, did not forget that. I was named Student Government Association president that year and brought up the issue. The administration, though, was intent on stopping that and quickly made a move to block our group. But we would not be silenced.

I quickly gathered 10 other student leaders and sent a letter to the administration and our local media demanding that the separation of church and state be respected. Within a day, knowing that the law was clear, the administration folded and, for the first time in 50 years, allowed a moment of silence to fully replace prayer.

With just a few days before graduation, the issue seemed decided. Within a day though, a petition was started labeling the signees of the letter as a "hate group" and demanding prayer be reinserted. That petition would garner 500 signatures in just two days. Those 11 of us who signed the letter to the administration and media were subjected to vicious attacks on our sexuality, race and religion, labeling us as "anti-God," which is ironic since half the signees were Christian.

When graduation day arrived, another attempt was made by the opposition to disrupt the day. The moment of silence was to be inclusive to all. However, the opposition quickly spread a plan to interrupt the moment of silence by shouting a mix of prayer, yelps, claps and general noise pollution.

During the moment of silence, a faint rumble of noise could be heard — apparently a few were praying aloud — but halfway through, with little support, the opposition gave up. The rest of the ceremony went unimpeded and, for the first time in 50 years, the separation of church and state was upheld.

The fight isn't over, though. With near certainty, there will be a major push next year to turn back the clock, but the law is on the side of inclusion and equality. The Constitution will still be there, as will fighters like the 11 signees who beat a half century of religious intolerance.

My name is Seth Manning. I was born in upstate New York though I have lived in East Tennessee most my life. I have just graduated from Northeast State Community College and will be continuing my education as an honors scholar at East Tennessee State University, studying political science and emergency relief. I would like to serve in the U.S. Air Force. Eventually, my goal is to shape policy as either a legislator or employee in a federal department. Away from school, I enjoy the outdoors, sports, music and activism.

FFRF gave Ashlynn a $1,000 Cliff Richards Memorial Student Activist Award.

Over the last few years, FFRF has sent several complaints to Willard, Mo., School District Superintendent Kent Medlin regarding his Establishment Clause violations. The most recent case involves his speech to the 2017 Willard High School graduates, in which he abused his position of authority to promote his religion.

By Ashlynn Bradley

Graduation is a huge deal to all of the students, as well as to the teachers, family members and community members who have helped us get this far.

However, during the graduation ceremony, our school's superintendent didn't use his time to give a speech that encouraged the students, but instead spent the time worshipping his savior.

Throughout his speech, Superintendent Medlin referenced Jesus Christ, God, and the New Testament, as well as informing us that all of our successes could be attributed to the Lord.

He even invited any student who had yet to find the Lord to stop by his office so he could share God's love and gospel. He then invited the students and audience to stand up and pray, if they wanted. That left only a handful of us sitting down, which completely ostracized us. The prayer lasted roughly three minutes, which was three minutes too long.

Not only did he show blatant disregard for the law and the Constitution, he also ignored many of his students' pleas to refrain from a prayer for that exact reason. So a few fellow students and I took action. We went to our local newspaper and reported the story, as well as filed complaints with civil liberties groups to help us take action against his unconstitutional actions.

My name is Ashlynn Bradley and I recently graduated from Willard High School in southwest Missouri. I was secretary and head of public relations for Student Government Association, a member of Foreign Language Club, Diversity Club, Paws, Family, Career and Community Leaders of America, Future Business Leaders of America, National Honor Society, as well as president of Science Club. I even founded the Cryptozoology Club! I was also active in my school's art program and I played soccer, participated in track and field, and was on our school's dance team. I will be attending Colorado State University and am planning to go into the pre-med program.

Peter Opitz received a $1,000 scholarship from FFRF endowed by Co-President Annie Laurie Gaylor in memory of her father, Paul J. Gaylor, who was FFRF's most hardworking volunteer for its first 25 years. He died at 84 in 2011.

By Peter Opitz

Expressing your opinion isn't always easy, especially if it's controversial. You're questioned, degraded, debated and judged for what you believe and for what you think is right.

I found this out the hard way in the spring of 2016, when public dissent began rumbling over the so-called Jesus Lunches at Middleton (Wis.) High School. These lunches are organized by parents' groups and are held at the park adjacent to the high school, where they hand out bibles and religious trinkets, and proselytize to students in exchange for a free lunch.

Many atheist, Jewish and Muslim students were forced to sit by themselves at lunch while their Christian friends attended a lunch where evangelical values were preached.

A lot of students felt marginalized in what is supposed to be a safe place for everyone, a place in which students of all religions (and no religion) are respected and not pressured. Eventually, I'd had enough.

It was pretty obvious that the main cause of this marginalization was one thing — the Jesus Lunch. Even after pressuring our school administration, the hate speech and exclusion continued and the school became more and more unsafe for students who weren't Christians.

At this point, the school decided to go public with its disapproval of Jesus Lunch and created a legal briefing that justified its right to enforce school rules on the nearby park property. And then everything erupted. News media rushed in, parents sent hundreds of emails to administration, and the tense emotions in the school could be felt from miles away.

It was at that point when I decided to make my stand — to advocate for inclusivity and safety in our school. I started with a petition and video. It called upon the Jesus Lunch organizers to move their activities away from the school in an attempt to decrease the division, harassment and distraction that the event had caused. The petition spread quickly and soon had hundreds of signatures, prompting organizers of Jesus Lunch to create their own counterpetition.

Phone calls and emails poured in and I found myself in the busiest time of my life, trying to balance school and an unexpected new role of community activist. I worked with my peers to organize a protest that attracted hundreds of students and community members at the next Jesus Lunch.

Nearly half of our 2,000-person high school flooded the park that day for and against Jesus Lunch, all caught on video for the evening news. I gave a speech urging my peers to stand up for students who felt marginalized because of Jesus Lunch. I watched my friends get hit with food, thrown by Jesus Lunch attendees into the crowd of protesters. I witnessed an unprecedented amount of yelling, screaming and shoving. But, most importantly, I saw friendships ripped apart over religion.

FFRF sent letters to the City Council, an eight-page legal memo was drafted by community members that outlined four constitutionally acceptable actions for the city, constituents spoke at meetings with concerns about Jesus Lunch, but nothing worked. Not the petition. Not the protests. Not the legal brief. Not the attention from national media and organizations. We had failed to keep the school a welcoming and respectful place for all people, regardless of religious belief.

It's a year later now, and as I look back on what I did, how hard I tried, I find pride in it. Not in the division that it caused in our school, but in the effort that students made to stand up for each other. To see people from all perspectives — Christian, Jewish, atheist, Muslim, etc. — come together to support each other was one of the most powerful moments I have ever seen.

In the meantime, the Jesus Lunches will continue giving free food and an evangelical message to students every Tuesday, but we will persist. We will continue to stand up for each other and provide a loving, respectful community for innocent students trying to get an education free of religious division.

My name is Peter Opitz and I just concluded my junior year at Middleton High School in Wisconsin. I enjoy the outdoors — hiking, biking, swimming, and working outside. I am dedicated to social justice, and am a member of Student Voice Union and Student Equity Coalition. I am also a student representative on the school district's Partnership for Student Support and Success committee. I am a leader in Model United Nations, the local chapter of National Honor Society, and a member of the Human Rights Week organizing committee. When not involved with those activities, I do stage crew work for theatre productions and am a drum major for the Middleton High School Band.