How I Was Indoctrinated, And How You Might Be Too

When I was a kid, we went to church multiple times per week. We, of course, were there for Sunday morning and Sunday night. Those were the big services. The ones that nobody ever missed, you know? We called Sunday the Lord's day. It was a day of rest. We started the morning with Sunday School followed by an hour (sometimes more) of worship service, which included hymns and a sermon delivered by one of the church's pastors.

I started as an infant. I was part of group of churchgoers we called bed babies. They were the ones that stayed in the nursery while their parents participated in the other church activities. I graduated from bed-baby status and entered children's church where I was a Bible Drill contestant, winning competitions that no doubt featured other bed-baby graduates. We learned the Bible stories — from creation, Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark, Jesus walking on water and feeding the 5,000, the story of the crucifixion and resurrection, and ultimately, the story of mankind's redemption from sin.

We were there on many Monday nights. My mom was part of a woman's group called First Place, a health and wellness group based in Christian ideology. She was also a member of the Women's Missions Union (WMU). Tuesday nights was C.A.R.E. (Caring and Reaching Everyone) — we'd write cards and do door-to-door evangelical outreach. Wednesday nights were like mini-Sunday services. We'd also go to the quarterly business meetings where the church members decided on the administrative functions of the local body. Wednesday night was also Youth Night. The youth group at my childhood church was huge — the same size as my graduating class from High School.

Then there were weeks where we'd go every single day or night, like revival weeks or Vacation Bible School. 

Church was my life. It was the activity that took up more time in my life than anything except maybe my public school education. 

But even at school, I was evangelizing. I was bullied ruthlessly for being queer, and I often used Christianity as a shield. Even those who were not religious were seemingly afraid — or respectful? — of God in the deeply religious Alabama culture, so I weaponized my faith and knowledge of the scriptures accordingly.

But, this kind of involvement in Church wasn't altogether voluntary. My parents made me go to church in the same way they made me go to school. So, my church career started early and it was always mandatory.

The truth is, I wholeheartedly believed the teachings. I had no doubt that God was real, that He (always with a capital H) was reigning on his Heavenly throne and that he had prepared a place for me — a mansion — where I would live for eternity, reunited with other believers who had died and gone to Heaven before me. But the real reward of heaven was to be in the presence of God, and to worship him forever.

I was fully indoctrinated into the conservative, evangelical, fundamentalist, literalist faith tradition of the Southern Baptist Christian right. While I am not a Christian anymore, I still believe that there's nothing wrong with believing in God. There's nothing wrong with faith. It can be a beautiful thing, and it offers hope and belonging to so many, like my parents. Their faith is inspiring and even encouraging. When tough times are afoot, faith can ease the suffering and bring a tremendous amount of peace.

But there comes a moment when this kind of indoctrination can be ... not so good.

When I was a kid, I knew that I was different. I started writing a journal when I was about 10 years old. I wrote in a journal regularly until I was a senior in high school. I still write in a journal, but not with the dedication I did as a young person. Looking back on those journal entries, I am aware of something that I didn't realize in the moment.

I didn’t realize I was being indoctrinated — because that’s how it works. Indoctrination feels like certainty. It feels like safety. It doesn’t feel coercive until you try to think outside it.

But what does that mean?

Indoctrination is the process of teaching someone to accept a set of beliefs uncritically. It often involves repeated exposure to specific ideas, usually within a closed system that discourages questioning or alternative viewpoints. Unlike education, which encourages inquiry and critical thinking, indoctrination emphasizes obedience, conformity, and the unquestioned acceptance of “truths” handed down by authority figures.

In my case, it's a little more nuanced. My parents were incredible teachers. They taught me and my siblings to question the things other Bible teachers taught us. They taught us to seek answers on our own and to study for ourselves. My family had dinner together every single night, and our dinner table conversation was often, "What theology have you been studying?" or "What doctrine are you reading?" We talked at length about Calvinism, sanctification, free will, and so many other theological principles, but mostly about the grace and mercy of God that he gave freely to us, sinners, who had chosen (or whom he had chosen) to believe in him.

But there was one thing I could never question: God himself. If God said it, it was final. If it was in the Bible, it was an unequivocal, undeniable truth. I remember once raising a question about science. It may have been about evolution. My mom said, "If science teaches something the Bible contradicts, we believe the Bible is the authority on the matter." My oldest brother said that God was a great artist, even embedding Earth's crust with fossils, justifying our belief that the world is only 10,000 years old.

Now that I'm no longer a Christian, I try to objectively view the teachings of any faith tradition, especially the one that I know most well: Christianity. I also try to be grateful for the way my parents loved me, doing exactly what they thought was best: to teach me about God and his grace. But I'm also keenly aware of the power of indoctrination.

I was taught to believe something without question. But it didn't align with who I am. I'm queer trans nonbinary. The Bible never talked about me — at least not explicitly. I never saw myself in the teachings. So, I had to contort myself into a version that fit nicely into that belief system. And I had to do it without questioning.

One time, during my high school junior Sunday School class, I asked my teacher a critical analysis question. She stood, put her finger in my face, and said, "If you don't believe like us, you need to leave." I did. But I just went to a different Southern Baptist church.

After a few years of teaching the college Sunday School class at my new church, was asked to sign a declaration of faith. The declaration included a clause that said, "I am not a homosexual and I will not participate in homosexual activities." At the time, I identified as a gay man, and I couldn't sign it. 

That was the last straw. I never went back to church.

I'm telling you all of this to say that sometimes, we are indoctrinated into a way of believing that doesn't align with who we really are. Maybe you're racist. Maybe you're transphobic. Maybe you don't like immigrants. Maybe you think men are superior to women. Maybe you think Christians are the only ones deserving of eternal happiness. Maybe you've been taught to accept these beliefs without ever being given the chance to question them.

And in the moment, you don't — maybe you can't – realize that it's happening. It's really hard to see that you're being indoctrinated. And these days, it's easier than ever to be indoctrinated into a belief that may not align with who you are.

The evidence is clear: social media can accelerate the spread of ideologies, especially in emotionally charged or isolated contexts. A 2013 Italian study on Facebook found that users cluster into ideologically similar groups, creating emotional echo chambers that reinforce beliefs and intensify polarization. The well‑known filter bubble effect — where algorithms show users more of what they already like — can limit exposure to diverse ideas and amplify misinformation or extremist content. These are all ways that indoctrination can show up in your life.

So what can you do?

Whether you're a bed baby graduate or you've found yourself evangelizing beliefs you found on social media — or perhaps neither of those are you, but when you take a step back, you notice you strongly believe what you believe without question — here are three things you can ask yourself to make sure what you believe aligns with who you really are.

1. Who taught me this — and what did they stand to gain?

Every belief has a source. Was it someone you trust? Someone in power? Were they trying to keep you safe — or keep you small? Interrogate the origin story of your beliefs, especially the ones you’ve never questioned.

2. Does this belief expand my compassion — or contract it?
A belief that makes you kinder, more open, and more connected is worth keeping. One that justifies exclusion, superiority, or shame? That’s worth holding up to the light.

3. If I had been born somewhere else, to someone else — would I still believe this?
This is the humility check. The curiosity check. The reminder that we’re all products of place and time. And that means it’s okay — even holy — to reconsider.

Here's the last things I'll say:

No matter who you are or what you believe, I love you. I know firsthand how hard it is to untangle what you actually believe — and even more, how it affects those around you. I'm here for you. I'll talk to you without judgement, listen with compassion, and help you question without agenda. I just want you to be your best self, and I want what you to believe to reflect the magic of who you are.

I love you, and I'm so glad you're here.