America doesn’t particularly celebrate its growing atheist community.
Perhaps former President George H.W. Bush expressed it best while campaigning in Chicago in 1988: “No, I don’t know that atheists should be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots.”
Atheists have acquired a certain stigmatization in the U.S., complete with stereotypes usually including obesity, pony tails, goatees and a profound love for coffee.
Newly converted college atheists have their own set of typifying traits, the worst of these being the “loud and obnoxious in class” non-believer who is ready to share his or her lack of faith with everyone he or she encounters.
And while some of these cliches can often be true, it must be remembered that, just like every other group, no such list exists stating what atheists do and do not believe — or look like.
The word “atheism” itself is even a bit confusing. Simply put, it means to be without theism.
But to grasp this definition, theism must be understood — and here is where it gets tricky.
There isn’t a broadly accepted definition of the loaded term.
If atheism is a rejection of the western Christian god, then what of the deistic god of the founding fathers?
Perhaps more profound, if the term “atheism” only pertains to the theistic god, then what of the countless others?
Maybe the most basic understanding of atheism is that it gives no more credibility to the existence of any god than it does to Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.
These are just the simple semantics of the non-religion, and they are quite irrelevant compared to the trials and tribulations of converting — or rather deconverting — to atheism.
Contrary to popular belief, it’s not all coffee-shop bliss and moral freedom when one realizes the emptiness of the heavens.
As YouTube’s “Pissed Catholic Mother” put it, “you’re going to get absolutely nothing for Christmas” — and that’s just the beginning.
The Bible Belt has a strange disdain for those who are different.
If you happen to believe — or rather disbelieve — differently, then you are an outcast.
This is as true for atheists as it is for homosexuals, which makes coming out of the closet difficult for both groups.
This hardship may be partially responsible for the current upsurge in agnosticism, which is a rejection of humanity’s knowledge about the divine.
In my experience, agnosticism isn’t met with nearly as much contempt. It is the diet atheism, or perhaps even the bisexual version of it. It teeters on the fine line between belief and disbelief — but is still close enough to the former for comfort.
But taking the leap of nonfaith into atheism is no easy task. Aside from angry parents, shocked friends from your former youth group and the social stigmatization that will inevitably follow, you become aware of the religiosity abounding in everyday life.
Prayers preceding sporting events, being asked to say “grace” and the relinquishment of formerly held religious convictions can be painful to deal with. Toss in the difficulty of remaining calm while reading hateful religious quotations on Facebook, and things get even more complicated.
The best remedy I’ve found for surviving these tribulations has been the realization that some people are just not lucky enough to have faith.
It would be easy to pretend and be accepted, but that would be immoral — and that goes for both the atheist and the believer.
Andrew Robertson is a 24-year-old English writing and culture senior from Baton Rouge. Follow him on Twitter @TDR_Arobertson.
 
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Contact Andrew Robertson at [email protected]