Grad student essay contest 2024 — 4th place: Ashley McManus

FFRF awarded Ashley $2,000.

By Ashley McManus

For the first 17 years of my life, I was raised in what some refer to as a “little blue dot in a sea of red” — Fayetteville, Ark. Even in this liberal bubble of the state, I was viscerally impacted by shades of Christian nationalism.

Christian nationalism is the belief that Christianity is a central part of America’s identity, and that the government should work to keep those roots and identity intact. During my developmental years, I was sent to an evangelist Christian summer camp, which actively preached that Christianity was a foundation of America. This camp prominently featured a live “Crucifixion Night,” where I watched my summer counselors reenact the crucifixion of Jesus, complete with screaming, crying and the sound of nails going through flesh. As you can imagine, it left quite the impression.

It was made clear to me at a young age that there were Christians and “others,” and it was in our best interest to evangelize or isolate non-Christians in order not only to save our own souls, but the soul of our country. For my personal journey, I was able to claw my way out of that mindset thanks to the friends who surrounded me in high school. I know in my heart, however, that if my parents had been more religious, or if I had a different set of friends, I would have likely been negatively impacted for life.

Still, the Christian nationalism that I experienced as a young person pales in comparison to the militant, violent and extreme statements and legislative actions that we are seeing today.

Obvious milestone threats that represent how dangerous this movement has become include the Jan. 6 insurrection, the introduction of 513 anti-LGBTQ bills this year alone and the overturning of Roe v. Wade.

One of the greatest threats to our secular democracy is the continued narrative to combat “anti-white racism,” a vow that former President Trump made in May. As a part of this plan, Trump says, if he regains the presidency, he will reverse the Executive Order on Advancing Racial Equity and Support for Underserved Communities Through Federal Government. This is a frightening example of how Christian nationalism has evolved and contorted to represent not necessarily “Christian ideals,” but rather the ideals of the extreme right. Christianity is a mask for the movement, which rips as many out-of-context scriptures as it can in order to support legislation that actively harms oppressed populations. The rise of white nationalism alongside Christian nationalism is particularly horrifying, and has the roots to spark violence and death in our communities.

Perhaps the most concerning, and least paid attention to part of the Christian nationalism movement is the number of seats it is filling on the judiciary system. As president, Trump made appointments for three Supreme Court judges, 53 appellate court judges and 170 district court judges. As these are lifetime appointments, even if as a country we quell Christian nationalism, these are the people that are going to be interpreting the Constitution and federal law over the next 30 years or more. For decades, the extreme right has been quietly stacking local, state and federal judicial seats as these roles are so often ignored by the vast majority of the public, but have an abundance of power.

Not only is Christian nationalism obviously an attack on religious freedom at its core, but the particular version of it that we are experiencing today is also a direct attack on non-white Americans, LGBTQ-plus Americans, lower-income Americans and women.

If Christian nationalism continues to gain power in this country, we can expect personal violence against these populations and generational losses as protective legislation is rolled back. As a queer woman with a disability, I’m terrified. I’m even more terrified for my Black, Latino and trans friends and families.

Ashley, 30, attends Antioch University, and is working toward a degree in in clinical psychology. “As a queer woman who personally wrestles with CPTSD, my goal is to become a marriage and family therapist, specializing in the intersection of sexual and mental health,” Ashley writes. “I’ve experienced the transformative power of honest and informed therapeutic spaces, and I hope to promote that healing in others.”