It seems like in America being an atheist means little more than being a minority - it’s a label that’s associated with no single race, gender, sexual preference, upbringing, or social class. The notion of there being an atheist “community” seems a bit silly since we’re likely not to share much beyond a lack of something. That said, I do believe that most modern atheists (and certainly all pre-modern atheists) do share a stigma attached to the idea of non-belief, and to non-believers.
Not only is there an external stigma regarding atheists among “people of faith,” but also an internal stigma I’d wager is shared by many of us. We see the same fringe atheist element decrying the phrase “Under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance, “In God We Trust” on our currency, and other pithy issues that have little bearing on our day-to-day lives. Issues that make most of us roll our eyes and change the channel, regardless of belief.
First, let me state for the record that I’m not suggesting that these things aren’t emblematic of a societal predisposition toward faith. What I am saying is that harping on those issues is completely asinine, as is the all-too-often tone of superiority that emanates from the vocal minority. These people do little except to perpetuate the stereotype of atheists as smarmy elitists without basic empathy or compassion for their fellow man, should that fellow man be so deluded as to believe in a supernatural entity. In my humble opinion, they do more to further the stigma than any outside bigotry - they come out swinging an agenda like a cudgel (calling it ours), and are the caricature upon which people of faith make snap judgements and apply them to all atheists.
Every stereotype is founded upon fact - an often offensively exaggerated fact, but a fact nonetheless. This stigma we share, what keeps us from feeling comfortable publicly admitting our lack of faith when confronted, is not merely the result of a world history filled to bursting with religion. It’s also the product of the present action (and inaction) of those identifying themselves (often only privately) as non-believers.
I’ll be the first to admit my own lack of effort toward the removal of that stigma. Up until now I’ve shunned the notion of an “atheist community,” largely based on a mental picture of sitting in a room full of self-indulgent, back-slapping snobs. At the same time, I’ve felt the disconnect between myself and my friends who do subscribe to any of an assortment of religions. My friends know me as a caring, empathetic individual, and I’d like to think that these good people wouldn’t harbor prejudices from the years I’ve spent in their midst. But as people grow older and have children, the question assuredly comes up regarding who and what their precious bundle of joy should be exposed to during their formative years - needless to say I’m not anticipating being anyone’s godparent.
That said, I’m coming around to the idea of a community, for a multitude of reasons. However I’m still enough of a realist to know that any act of seclusion will only serve to widen the gap between those with and without faith in the divine. I believe that the first step toward removing the stigma placed upon all of us is to look inward, and honestly look to see if the atheist stereotype rings true in ourselves.
Just as an example, it’s often said that atheists are immoral. While most of us aren’t thieves, murderers, or rapists I can’t help but wonder how many of us go out of our way to do good and not merely abstain from evil. Donating, particularly of one’s time and energy, is a great way to demonstrate the empathy and compassion which most of us have. It’s my belief that public service is a key point to overcoming the atheist stigma - it simultaneously addresses claims that we’re elitist, self-centered, and morally bankrupt. In fact, donating your time to a charity or organization which promotes religion (such as the Salvation Army) not only demonstrates the qualities that we as atheists purportedly lack, but that we’re not so self-absorbed as to let our disagreements over faith keep us from helping those in need.
And here comes the part I’ve been dreading, the lose-lose conclusion where I mention that I myself have done precisely what I’m suggesting. I fully realize that by bringing up this fact that I open myself to criticism of self-congratulatory egotism, but were I to leave it unsaid I’d be open to being called a hypocrite. Given the choices, I’ll take the former, but anyone’s perception of me in particular is beyond the point.
The point is that as a group it will take the bulk of us, the normal, law-abiding, compassionate people who only deviate from the mainstream in regard to religious belief to form a productive community, and that such a community would have an obligation to work toward developing a more inclusive role for atheists in society. Bickering and insults haven’t accomplished anything, but defying the prejudices that exist in society at least offers some hope of convincing those who would listen of our common humanity.