Why Child Liberation Theology Must Be Intersectional

Author note: this is the fifth article in a multi-part series I am writing that provides an overview of child liberation theology. You can read the previous installment, “The Nuts and Bolts of Child Liberation Theology,” here. The next installment, “Including Children in Child Liberation Theology,” will argue that, to be authentic, child liberation theology must be led by children themselves. Scaffolding is key to that process.

“Intersectionality” is a big word that stirs up lots of emotions. People either get really excited or really angry when you bring it up—or people don’t know what it means. But it’s an important word that captures an undeniable reality: the fact that we all have different experiences from one another, even when we’re experiencing the exact same things. We’re also all made of different experiences and identities (like race, gender, and religion) that interact and interlock like puzzle pieces—with each piece being an important part of who we are.

The word intersectionality was first coined by a law professor named Kimberlé Crenshaw. Crenshaw, a Black woman who teaches at UCLA School of Law and Columbia Law School, began using the word in 1989 when she wrote an article entitled, “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Anti-discrimination Doctrine, Feminist Theory, and Antiracist Politics.” In that article, Crenshaw explained how Black women in the United States experience abuse and other forms of marginalization and oppression in ways that are unique from, say, white women or Black men. Additionally, she argued, people often think that race and gender are mutually exclusive categories of experiences and identities. In fact, however, those experiences and identities overlap and interlock. While Crenshaw originally used the word intersectionality to illuminate the experiences of American Black women, the word has taken on its own life and meanings over the years. Today, intersectionality has become a lightning rod for a wide variety of political and social debates about people’s multiple layers of identity.

Why would intersectionality—the idea that we all have unique experiences of life—make people angry? The word has become a buzzword nowadays because the American Christian Right decided to make it a culture war battleground. Even though it is a common-sensical idea that can be easily explained to children, members of the Christian Right have decided it should be cast as divisive, even racist. So instead of representing the need for diversity, equity, and inclusion, it now means “because you’re a minority, you get special standards, special treatment” to conservatives. It can even be seen as a “new caste system.”

Intersectionality is nonetheless vital to the health and wellbeing of liberation theology in general. Liberation theologies are contextual and relational: meaning, they are theologies arising from actual and concrete situations and people. They are not just abstract thoughts about potential things. Because they are contextual and relational, it is key that liberation theologies acknowledge that different groups of people have different experiences—and that the adult white male way of experiencing life is not the golden standard. All of us—even the seemingly least insignificant among of us—have experiences that are significant and weighty.

Intersectionality is also vital to the health and wellbeing of child liberation theology specifically. Child liberation theology is not interested in preaching liberation to only white male children. Child liberation theology—appropriately viewed as a universal task of liberation, considering Jesus said “Let the little children come to me” and “Don’t stop them” (Matthew 19:14) about all children, not just some—is interested in expanding the boundaries of the Church’s embrace of children. All children are welcomed by Jesus; thus, all children should be welcomed by the Church that proclaims Jesus. This means we must think about how different groups of children experience the same things differently, or experience different things from one another but have similar responses to those traumas.

Seeing child liberation theology reach all children also means we must be creative and industrious in problem-solving how the Church can embrace the children who are not present currently: the children who do not go to church and even the children who hate church. Yes, child liberation theology is as interested in liberating atheist children as it is in liberating Christian children, for Jesus made no distinction in his command to welcome them. But how do we welcome into our midst those who hate us? Again, this is where we must be creative and industrious. But I believe faith communities can do so much to make their spaces accessible and safe for agnostic, atheist, and apatheist children. It starts by setting the intention, and getting the buy-in from community leaders, to do so. It also requires separating charity and service from evangelism. You can never feel truly safe when you know the people around you think you must change.

What does intersectional child liberation theology look like? Perhaps we can start with the opposite: what would child liberation theology look like without intersectionality? If we denied the fact that people have unique but interlocking experiences, we would talk about children in general while at the same time we would center the experiences of white male children raised in middle-class families in American suburbs. We would assume the experiences of those white male children are the same for all children—children of color, girls and non-binary children, children born into poverty, children of immigrants, even children in other countries. This would be a mistake, of course. But it is a very common mistake in white American Christianity.

In white American Christianity, people often think their experiences are (1) objective and (2) normative. “Objective” means that white American Christians believe that their experiences and opinions about those experiences are universally true and not dependent on personal interpretation. “Normative” means that they believe their experiences of different life factors and stressors are the same as everyone else’s. For example, many white American Christians believe that, if everyone just read the Bible “the right way,” everyone would agree with how white American Christians read the Bible. But any two people can read the exact same text and yet have wildly different interpretations of that text due to their unique backgrounds and worldviews. To white American Christians, this is a tragedy and something to be fought against as best as possible. But to many other groups of people, the fact that people have diverse, subjective ways of reading the same text is a blessing. Liberation theologians in particular view diversity in approaches to God and the Bible as beautiful and lifegiving.

If child liberation theology without intersectionality looks like assuming everyone’s experiences are the same and lifting white male children up as the norm for all children, what, then, would intersectional child liberation theology look like? It looks like many things, but the most important three, I think, are the following:

First, intersectional child liberation theology understands that abuse can be intersectional, too. Just like how children experience the same theological ideas and practices in unique and diverse ways, children experience abuse in unique and diverse ways as well. For example, if a child belongs to an already-marginalized people group (like if a child is a girl, a queer person, or disabled), that child will face increased risks and rates of abuse because they face multiple types of sins (e.g., not just childism and adultism but also sexism, anti-queer bigotry, or ableism).

Second, intersectional child liberation theology intentionally and purposefully creates space for diverse voices, seeking out the voices we are not hearing, welcoming them, and then centering those voices in our conversations and decision-making processes. Think about your local faith community or religious organization in which children participate. Does that community or organization appeal primarily to white children? Then think about how you can seek out, welcome, and center the voices of children of color as well. Is your community or organization primarily geared towards children without disabilities? Then think about how you can make it accessible, appealing, and empowering to children with disabilities, too.

Third, intersectional child liberation theology is not interested in leading, or preaching to, children. Rather, it is interested in empowering children themselves to lead or preach. This is a small but highly significant distinction. Many faith communities and religious organizations in the United States would likely be okay with recruiting more children to their programs. After all, more children mean more money for the community or organization. But not many American faith communities and religious organizations are prepared or willing to open decision-making and leadership processes to children. This should be unacceptable. Children have a right to access and have a say in those processes because those processes directly impact their lives.

While intersectionality is a big word that provokes lots of emotions, it is an important word that highlights some vital truths. If you care about fighting against abuse and other forms of marginalization and oppression, intersectionality is key to that fight. We will never rise towards a better, more just future unless we rise together. And we can only rise together if we take the time to understand, welcome, and center everyone in our communities and organizations, not just the people that look and talk and think like us. In short, intersectionality is more than a buzzword. It is a healthy and necessary paradigm shift from being me-focused to wanting to be the best team player you can. The best team players are those who lift up and empower their teammates; the same applies to liberation theology.