Editor’s Note: This week, “The Wall of Separation” blog is featuring the essays and videos submitted by the winners of Americans United’s 2024 AU Student Contest, which asked high school and college students to reflect on their vision for church-state separation. Submissions do not necessarily reflect the views of Americans United.
The room falls silent at the King George County, Va., school board meeting. The crowd, mostly familiar faces, shifts their focus to the front as a Bible verse is recited. Then, as if on cue, the prayers begin. Heads bow, eyes close and a communal murmur fills the space. I stand there, hands in my pockets, eyes open, feeling like I’m watching something I’m not supposed to be a part of. But this isn’t a church — it’s a public meeting.
And that distinction makes all the difference. Public institutions, especially schools, are meant to serve all citizens equally, regardless of their beliefs. Yet, here I am, feeling out of place in a room meant for the public. It’s a small thing — a prayer at the start of a meeting — but it speaks to something larger: the quiet erosion of the separation between church and state.
In recent years, religious extremists and their lawmaker allies have been using these small, seemingly benign practices to blur the lines between church and state, especially in public schools. These efforts aren’t about sweeping national mandates but instead, localized pushes to inject religion into secular spaces. For example, in 2023, the Texas Senate voted for a bill requiring public schools to display the Ten Commandments in classrooms under the guise of “restoring America’s values.” Other states are pushing to replace trained school counselors with religious chaplains or allow school officials to lead prayers. These moves are not about protecting religious freedom; they are about using public institutions to promote a specific worldview.
In King George County, the Bible verses and prayers recited at public meetings create an environment where Christian practices dominate. While participation is voluntary, the expectation is clear, leaving non-believers or those of other faiths feeling excluded. This quiet coercion undermines the neutrality of public institutions, turning spaces meant to be inclusive into ones that favor a specific worldview.
Religion, at its core, is a deeply personal experience that shapes how people understand the world. But when it’s brought into public institutions, it becomes something else — a tool for drawing lines, determining who belongs and who doesn’t. In spaces like King George County, where prayers are woven into the fabric of public meetings, those lines are drawn in subtle but powerful ways. They don’t just divide believers from non-believers; they carve out the limits of belonging, determining who gets to feel fully accepted in a public space.
In Alabama, lawmakers recently proposed a bill to allow teachers to read prayers aloud to students. Similar efforts in states like Florida and Oklahoma aim to censor curricula, ban books, and promote religiously conservative ideologies. Though often framed as protecting traditional values or parental rights, these actions are about controlling the narrative and promoting a specific religious ideology in public schools.
It’s tempting to lean on the old arguments — “church and state must remain separate,” “the Constitution prohibits this” — but those have been heard so often they’ve lost their weight. The issue is deeper — it’s about how these practices damage community cohesion. When you stand alone during a prayer or don’t recite a Bible verse, you are marked as different. And in small towns, difference isn’t always accepted with grace. It’s an act of survival to stay quiet, blend in, and not draw attention to yourself. So the prayers go on, the Bible verses continue, and the quiet pressure to conform grows stronger.
Yet, communities and advocates have fought back against this encroachment, both in courts and through grassroots activism. One of the most well-known legal victories is the Engel v. Vitale case in 1962, where the Supreme Court ruled that school-sponsored prayer violated the First Amendment. More recently, in Louisiana, the ACLU successfully challenged a school district sponsoring Christian prayers during school events, with the court reaffirming that such actions were unconstitutional. These legal cases are critical, but they represent just one piece of the broader resistance.
Grassroots efforts are equally critical. Organizations like Americans United for Separation of Church and State educate communities and provide resources for those facing religious coercion in schools. They organize protests, social media campaigns and legal challenges to ensure that public spaces remain inclusive for all beliefs. These efforts are essential for preserving the secular nature of public institutions.
Moving forward, we must change the narrative. This is not about being “anti-religion”; it’s about ensuring that public institutions are neutral so everyone, regardless of their beliefs, feels welcome and respected. Public schools serve students from diverse backgrounds, and when they promote a specific religious ideology, they fail to support every student equally. Educating communities, especially young people, about the importance of church-state separation is vital for maintaining inclusive public spaces.
It’s also vital to continue using the courts to challenge religious intrusion into public schools. As seen in cases like Engel v. Vitale and the Louisiana prayer case, legal challenges are effective in protecting students’ rights and ensuring that public schools remain secular spaces. But beyond legal battles, fostering a cultural understanding that true religious freedom means freedom from coercion in public spaces is crucial.
For me, standing in that room during the school board meeting, the issue isn’t just discomfort — it’s belonging. Public schools and institutions should be places where everyone feels like they belong, regardless of their religious beliefs. When we allow religious practices to creep into these spaces, we’re sending a message that some people belong more than others. And that’s not the kind of community I want to be a part of.
Communities can and should push back, not just through legal action but through grassroots advocacy and education. The goal isn’t to strip religion from public life, it’s to ensure that public life remains inclusive for everyone. In King George County and across the country, this means standing up against the quiet encroachments of religious extremism and reaffirming that public schools are for everyone, no matter what they believe.
