Three summers ago I was listening to a speaker at a leadership conference talking about how inclusiveness and diversity help us become affective leaders. It was a heavy topic that had left the room silent and somber. After the speech, the speaker had us get into our assigned groups for the weekend and passed out large pieces of butcher paper and a handful of markers to each group. On each piece of paper was some sort of identity group, Muslim, African- American, Gay, Male, etc. and we were to write any word we thought associated with that group. Every few minutes the papers were rotated to a different group so by the end, every group had a chance to write something on every paper.

I remember sitting with my group writing a couple of words here and there, but most of the time I was reading what others had already wrote. Some of the pages were pretty heated, for example “Female” had “b----” but also “mother” written on it while others, like “Asians” had less opposing words like “rice” and “smart people”.

I had been zoning in and out when finally it was announced that we’d rotate pages one more time. Excited to finally be at the last page, I looked to see what the word was: Christians. I remember looking at what had been written and never being so confused in my life.

Growing up in a Christian household and going to a Christian church, I had a very specific definition of who a Christian was and always viewed and had known Christians as loving, caring, Christ-like people. If someone was nice or respectful I was always under the impression they might be Christian because all the Christians I knew were like that.

What I read on that paper completely contradicted what I had grown up believing. Not one word on that page had positive connotations. Some of the words written down were “bigots” and “hypocrites,” the word “loving” had been scribbled out, and there were extremely demeaning phrases, like “self-righteous f---s”.

Appalled and shocked, I broke the silence and blurted “No, they are not!” The scraping and rustling of the papers stopped. There was a brief moment of silence before my group leader asked me what I meant. “This is not true,” I said, “I’m a Christian and that is not me! These words do not describe me; they are not even remotely related to being a Christian!” Again the entire gymnasium hushed.

Finally a girl spoke up, “You are a Christian?” That was the first time I had heard it used in a derogatory way, like it was ostracizing to call yourself that. I nodded and received blank stares from the room. It seemed that the speaker’s inclusiveness had had the opposite affect and that my diversity had secluded me from the group and that “Christian” had come to embody the complete opposite of what Christians thought it would.

I did not speak for the rest of night, but I thought about why everyone thought Christians were so hateful. I was not so arrogant and blind to think “Christians” could not be bigots (Westboro Baptist Church) or hypocrites, but I also knew that if they were, then they were not in my mind Christians. So what changed the definition or the Christian?

Three years later, I still ask myself, was it derogatory to be called a Christian? No, but it is derogatory to Christians call yourself something that you’re not.