“My freshman year at a Catholic college, I became suicidally depressed and I can say with complete confidence that if I didn’t go to that school, I would be dead. I felt like I mattered there. When you struggle with your mental health like I do, it can be hard to connect with a faith community. We’re just supposed to ‘pray harder’ and ‘sin less,’ according to religious people who clearly don’t know Jesus. The community at my college, however, never held that viewpoint and I was always welcome to be completely honest and transparent. I was never judged for my pain. My experiences helped my faith flourish.”

— Mae L’Heureux, 26, Augusta, Me.

“I was elected class chaplain nearly every year and when I wasn’t working with the theater department, I was actively involved in prayer meetings and Bible studies. However, there was a part of my life I felt I had to bury to survive. After finding out I was gay, my parents sent me to a school-endorsed spiritual retreat called ‘The Encounter.’ The final session was a mass exorcism that lasted for two and a half hours. Other students and I were forced to sit down while a man read his list of spirits and demons, which included homosexuality. If I didn’t find a way to be rid of it, I couldn’t live at home. Back at school, my facade said, ‘cured’ but there were teachers who saw my depths and loved me for it. They’re how I survived.”

— Sebastian Summers, 22, Chicago

Readers told us about lasting pain and confusion

“Sex as a theme was very pervasive there. I took a vow of purity when I was 11. I was sexually abused starting at age 4, so by the time I put on that promise ring, in my mind I was already lying because I was already corrupted. My biology teacher taught us that sex creates an unbreakable soul bond through the exchange of blood and fluids. The idea is, if I slept with someone and then married someone else I wouldn’t be coming into that marriage as a whole person. Coming from a home where there was sexual abuse, learning that was heartbreaking and it took me years to undo that damage.”

— Melissa Stewart, 28, Pioneer Valley, Mass.

“My Christian school had ‘Slave Day.’ One day a year, each member of the junior class was auctioned off to other students to be owned for a day. The auctioneer — a teacher — sometimes held a whip. Students stood on a box while being auctioned. It was a fund-raiser for our prom — real money was exchanged. Sometimes, the auction took place in the sanctuary. In 2001, it was changed — in name only — to Servant Day. I do not recall any conversations about race and white supremacy.”

— Laura Hagen, 31, South Saint Paul, Minn.

“My education was filled with Christian alternative facts. Things like dinosaurs walked with man, men and women have a different number of ribs (due to the biblical creation story), and Noah’s son, Ham, who was cursed, was the ancestor of African nations. We were taught we would likely never get to grow up, because the rapture would happen so soon. I struggle to this day with anxiety that I will not get to live the life experiences I very much want, such as having a real career, and being stable enough to give back in a meaningful way, because the world could end at any moment.”

— Ashlyn Cancellieri, 26, Philadelphia

And many shared stories of love and acceptance of others

“Teaching from a Gospel perspective is not so much about shielding kids from reality, but rather about teaching kids to see God at work in their day-to-day lives and in their studies. In many of my classes, we had many different points of views presented to us — each with good arguments, and we were left to come to our own conclusions. Christians are called bigots, racist, idiots, backward, and the one I hear the most, ‘on the wrong side of history.’ We feel attacked and misunderstood. Yes, we have beliefs that in this day and age are countercultural, and we will stick to them, make no mistake about that. However, we are also called to love others, showing them the kindness of Christ.”

— Allyson Payne, 21, Birmingham, Ala.

“At my school, the students were always encouraged to pursue a relationship with Christ and further our faith but it was never a prerequisite for attending the school. They taught that no one is ever too far gone. That everyone has our mistakes and we need to be accepting of all. Racism and homophobia were not present in my school and if there were incidents, they were dealt with by the administration. Everyone was taught to be accepting and to be a friend to the friendless.”

— Kearney Moss, 24, Midland, Tex.

“I am an alumnus of the Diocese of Covington school system in Kentucky. One time at Bishop Brossart High School, I said some things that were derogatory toward the L.G.B.T.Q. community. I really didn’t mean what I said, yet I was wrong and paid the price. I ended up getting detention and was scolded for the way I acted. I learned a valuable lesson for the first time that your words hold meaning no matter if you meant them or not. Bishop Brossart taught me how to respect others and how to be open to seeing different viewpoints. While we are not all perfect human beings, with the right guidance and discipline, we can be transformed into good people.”

— Andrew Graus, 22, Lawrenceville, Ga.