I attended a Christian school for five years. It was an independant school which used a cirriculum designed by a Christian school association.
Yes, Christian messages were stirred into every aspect of the cirriculum. At young ages, the story problems in mathematics would often be worded along the lines of, “If Suzie has three Bibles to give out to her friends who need to hear the Word and gives away two, how many Bibles does she have left?” In highschool, the texts went on to explain things like calculating insurance rates, but carefully noted that some Christians don’t believe in using insurance because it shows a lack of faith in God to take care of them. I was not taught algebra, calculus, or any other form of higher mathematics.
Science, of course, was a complete and utter joke. Evolution was derided, but they gave none of evolutionists’ arguments, relying on long-debunked examples like the Piltdown man. Texts would say things like “God designed these leaves to get energy from sunlight . . .”
Literature consisted only of Christian books like “In His Steps” and “Martyr of the Catacombs”. Most of them were utterly terrible. I remember this one series of books we had to read by this Christian author who wrote historical fiction about the struggles of Protestant groups. Her writing made Danielle Steele look like a Pulitzer Price candidate. In eleventh grade, they exposed us cautiously to some “classics”, such as (I swear I shit you not) “Heidi”. “Heidi” had a disclaimer pasted in the front cover warning that the ideas therein were not necessarily those of the school.
We had health studies, which focused primarily on nutrition (with the helpful hint that if you’re ever a poor missionary, you can survive on peanut butter.) They had one text on reproduction, which had on the first page a picture of a wedding, and thereafter focused on the reproduction of chickens. There was no indication how the sperm actually got to the egg.
Music consisted of us standing on the back porch singing along to tapes of Christian singers.*
English was relatively straight-forward, except the sentances we were to parse were usually overtly Christian. I remember one example clearly, “I would never want to be called a heretic.”
History was grossly edited. The Pilgrims (who were apparently the only ones on the boats) were loving Christians who only wanted to share the Light with those heathen Indians who kept unaccountably slaughtering them. I remember when we were taught about the Enola Gay. One of the pilots was quoted as saying, “My God, what have we done?” which they said was a prayer. We learned about the Holocaust, with a sad note of how many Jews had perished without hearing the message of Christ and now were suffering eternally.
All in all, if I were not a voracious reader, I’d be an utter ignoramus.
- Once, mischeviously, I offered to bring in a Christian song for us to sing, and brought in a tape of “Spirit in the Sky.” We used it for about a month before someone objected to the line, “Never been a sinner. I’ve never sinned.” I pled wide-eyed innocence and got in no trouble.