A Letter from the "Us" to the "Them" (And Why That Label Has to Go)

Dear Them,

I’m writing this from the vantage point of someone who spent years standing firmly in the “Us” camp. Growing up, it wasn't always a conscious choice; it was the atmosphere. It was the unspoken covenant of being a missionary kid, a pastor’s kid, attending the sheltered halls of a Christian international school in Taiwan.

In that world, Us meant having the answers. We were the ones with the Bible curriculum, the spiritual structure, the defined right and wrong. We lived under an umbrella—one that, in hindsight, was protecting us perhaps too much—and we looked out at Them—the non-believers, the locals, the outsiders—with a strange mix of protective care and quiet certainty that we held the exclusive map. It felt safe, but reading through an old high school newsletter from those days, I see now how frighteningly closed off that safety was.

I found those student comments, and it felt like reading my own unacknowledged blind spots. It wasn't just us preaching at you; it was the very structure we built creating the divide.

Your words, written long ago but still ringing true, hit hard:

• You felt “force-fed” the faith, especially in the dorms.

• You noticed the hypocrisy: people claiming the label of Christian but not living it, making it easier for non-Christians to critique the whole system when someone inevitably messed up. We demanded perfection, and when we failed, we gave you reason to push Christianity down.

• You called our environment an “enclosure,” a place so “closed off” that it stifled real interaction, even with the Chinese culture surrounding us.

• You wanted an introductory course, not an immediate immersion into complex theology like apologetics by grade level. You felt overloaded to the point of shutting down, turning what should have been engaging into passive routine.

We, the Us, thought we were offering the gift of truth. But from your perspective, it often felt like an uninvited imposition—a theological boot camp where the entry requirements were already set, and those who hadn't signed up felt cornered.

The painful realization for me was that this Us vs. Them mentality wasn't just about faith; it became a cultural sorting mechanism. It seeped into everything: the music we listened to, the movies we watched, the people we dated. The labels—MKs versus Business Kids—were just the entry points to a deeper division based on perceived righteousness or belonging. We confused Christian identity with cultural conformity.

We were so focused on being right that we forgot how to simply be human alongside you. We built walls of theological certainty when what you often asked for was a bridge of genuine connection.

This is where the letter must change. I can no longer write from the Us to the Them. Because the truth is, the structure you described—the one that pushes too hard, excludes too easily, and demands perfection—is ultimately failing all of us.

That overly protective umbrella you mentioned? It doesn't just keep the bad out; it keeps depth out. It breeds a seclusion that prevents the very real, shared human experience that leads to understanding.

The strength you admired—living with different kinds of people—is only an advantage when we stop seeing those differences as dividing lines. When we stop using labels—Christian, non-Christian, MK, local—as weapons or shields.

We need to start showing up not as people who have the answers, but as people who are sincerely interested in asking better questions together. We need to tear down that enclosure so that the genuine, messy, complex reality of faith—and doubt—can breathe. The goal shouldn't be conversion by curriculum, but connection by curiosity.

It's time to stop defining ourselves by who we are not and start building something that includes everyone who shows up at the table, ready to share their story.

The divide is an illusion we created. Let's choose to live in the "We."

Sincerely,

Me

©Lisa King, MS, LPC