This month Nexus would like to welcome a new columnist. Garnet’s focus will be how she finds life as an atheist – an invisible member of society. Welcome, Garnet!
Some time ago, on a forum that shall not be named, I had a short-lived blog titled “The Invisible Atheist.” A friend asked me why I selected that title. Well, part of it comes from my experience in being actively shunned once in my life. When I left the last church I regularly attended, everyone, even people I had thought were my friends, shunned me. This is highly irregular behavior for a Southern Baptist church, by the way. What I didn’t know is that the church I attended wasn’t part of the Southern Baptist convention. I didn’t know this until a few years later. But, I digress. While I had not yet become an atheist, it certainly reinforced feelings I had experienced for most of my life of being on the outside looking in and of being an outcast.
All my life, from time to time, I’ve felt as if I was invisible. There are times when I can slip through rooms full of people and never rate a look, let alone have someone attempt to engage me in conversation. There are times when I can be in a store waiting for service and none of the staff will “see” me and they will go to help everyone else instead. I can’t tell you how many times in my life I’ve heard the phrase, “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” I think that I am a bit of a chameleon and that when I’m in certain moods, I just blend into the background.
It’s an oddity about me. Most times, I’m a highly visible outgoing person. I’m a business analyst, so I spend a lot of time conducting presentations and meetings and work sessions. I have no problems speaking to groups of people both small and large. Some of the work I’ve done in the past has required that I not only deal with groups of people, but also with fairly intense one-on-one conversations.
But then, the mood strikes and I begin to feel like the outsider, the leper, the one who is outcast and unclean. It’s as if I slip into a cloak that hides me and I move through places and right by people without being noticed at all. I often feel this way when I’m around my family these days. It’s as if we don’t have anything in common anymore and it’s my fault because I moved away, I’ve stayed away and I’m different.
It’s also a feeling I experience the most as a direct result of my atheism. It’s often manifested when I’ve interacted with certain believers and no matter what I say or how I say it, they keep returning to the falsehoods they’ve been taught about atheists. They joust with straw men instead of engaging in conversation with me. It’s as if my answers to questions are invisible and meaningless. There’s a feeling I get from some Christians that atheists should just shut up and slink away. We are bothersome, evil and the good folk would just rather not deal with us at all, thank you very much.
I think the main reason that I titled the blog the Invisible Atheist is that outside of bulletin boards I rarely discuss my beliefs. I tend to disengage from workplace and social conversations about religious beliefs. In real life, I only discuss beliefs with people whom I know and trust. That means that in essence, I’m an invisible atheist in a veritable sea of believers.