Since civilization’s inception, people like me have existed everywhere. We’re America’s most distrusted minority, according to a recent study by the University of Minnesota. Despite the nasty monikers routinely attached to us, we’re mostly decent folks. And I assure you: It’s not a choice.

I am speaking of atheists. I hesitate to put it so baldly, considering all the learned Catholics I know. Many Creighton students are sympathetic to my views. We feel as out of place in Christianity in Context as Jane Fonda would at a Green Berets reunion.

Considering the credit requirement of eight to 16 hours of theology, some atheists would appreciate an alternative.

I say “some” not as a weak qualifier, but as a testament to the idiosyncratic nature of this group.

Some atheists profit from and even enjoy theology, and most atheists wouldn’t uniformly agree to a single alternative. Being people unified only by non-belief, atheist coalition-building is as difficult as herding cats.

Of course no serious person can dismiss the role of religion in shaping history and contemporary politics. Those who seek to understand the world, naturally, must understand Christianity.

But I do not personally benefit from courses predicated on the predetermined assumption of the Bible as God’s word. I would prefer a philosophy course critically analyzing the factual and ethical validity of scripture.

Other atheists would opt for a history course describing the role of religion in the world. A few would undoubtedly stand by the status quo.

Still, considering how many of us feel, as well as the academic flexibility at Creighton, a sensible solution would be to offer non-theological religious studies courses to good-faith skeptics. Core reform is long overdue, so now is the time to push this proposal.

“But you chose to come here!” some will chirp. To be clear, I am not claiming the “right” to elude any courses deemed necessary by the private university I voluntarily attend.

That would be as absurd as demanding the right to be served extra-crispy chicken at a vegan restaurant.

But it’s not so absurd for a loyal customer to politely suggest a change in the menu.

Incidentally, Creighton’s tolerant nature, which allows me to publish this complaint, is what brought me here in the first place. By truly embracing its secular students, Creighton would buttress that commitment to tolerance.

I view faith as a colossal house of cards: impressive at first glance but liable to collapse with a pinprick of reason.

My values are out of step with Creighton’s claim that Catholicism is conducive to the pursuit of truth “in all its forms,” not to mention the institution’s belief that faith is necessary to fully appreciate our world.

But if we wish to improve that world, we must advance free inquiry rather than dampen it. Creighton shouldn’t require atheists to take courses that contradict our rational and moral sensibilities.

Increasing the academic autonomy of nonbelievers would add to Creighton’s reputation as a tolerant institution that puts intellectual freedom first.