7th place — 2026 First in the Family essay contest: Cha’Miah Phoenix

FFRF awarded Cha’Miah $750.
By Cha’Miah Phoenix
Ah, America. Good ol’ red, white and blue. The land of the free and the home of the brave. Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
Over and over, the picture of an idealistic, equal-opportunity America is at the forefront of what it means to be American. From the outside looking in, America seems amazing. However, what America seems to be is not what it is.
“Love thy neighbor,” Jesus said.
“All men are created equal,” Thomas Jefferson claimed.
These two figures represent the intersection of Christianity and politics: the civil liberty of equality. Somewhere down the road, their words have been misconstrued.
“Love thy neighbor,” but not your Chinese co-worker.
“All men are created equal,” but not your Dominican electrician.
“God loves all,” but not your Black “friend.”
But, but and but.
Historically, white Christians in America often used biblical scripture to exclude, erase and harm non-white Christians.
“Love thy neighbor,” if your neighbor is white.
“All men are created equal,” if your coworker is white.
“God loves all,” if your friend is white.
When I moved to Centerville, Ohio, a predominantly white Christian city, at the age of 6, the culture shocked me. Growing up in a Black Christian household, I saw people as people, not their race. The version of Christianity I often encountered throughout my city felt very different from the one I was raised with.
“Your hair looks better straightened,” my white cheer teammates told me after I damaged my curls trying to fit in as the only Black girl in the program.
“You know, black women are murderers because they always get abortions,” a white woman once told me.
“I don’t think all men are created equal,” a white boy in my AP Government class announced after I gave a presentation on the Declaration of Independence.
When I asked him why, he told me: “The bible says so.”
White supremacy, the belief that white people are superior to other races and/or minorities, and Christian nationalism, the belief that American identity and government should be rooted in a conservative vision of Christianity, function jointly because they prioritize hate: Slavery, “Manifest Destiny” and the Spanish caste system are all instances when people of color were harmed in the name of the white Christians’ god.
As a Black girl, I’ve seen how these ideas continue to influence everyday interactions. My experiences have shown me how faith can be weaponized to legitimize prejudice when it becomes intertwined with white supremacy rather than compassion.
The majority in America is white Christians, and, unfortunately, white Christian nationalism has become the dominant force of federal and state politics in America. A democracy depends on equal citizenship regardless of race or religion. White Christian nationalism contradicts that principle by demanding that some Americans belong more than others. As long as white Christian nationalism defines who belongs in America, the American dream remains inaccessible to many of the very people it promises to include.
Cha’Miah Phoenix, 19, attends UCLA and plans to become a medical malpractice attorney.
“I like to think of myself as a ‘random’ person because I have varying hobbies from sewing, singing, dancing, drawing, reading, writing and cooking,” Cha’Miah writes. “I’ve helped raise over $131,000 with 10 other seniors in my graduating class, and we donated the funds to five local charities. I mentored over 300 students ages 4 to 14. I’ve won the Optimist International Youth Appreciation Award, AP Scholar, Delta Sigma Theta Honors. My first language was Japanese because I lived in Japan growing up, and I speak a bit of French and Korean. as well.”