Religious Discrimination In Walton County, Florida?
What it looks like to be the 'wrong kind of Christian' in our region.
Introduction
Our fledgling church plant closed our doors last week. It turns out we were ‘the wrong kind of Christian’ for this area. There were a number of factors working against us over the past 12 months, including strong opposition from prominent members of the community, as well as a lack of meeting space.
The nail in the coffin was our unexpected dismissal from South Walton High School last month, followed by a ban from the Walton County library the week after. These back-to-back blows took the last bit of wind out of our sails.
Before the library and the school, we were meeting in a city park, under a pavilion, until the pavilion was ‘roped off’ with orange tape, allegedly for construction work, despite no construction being performed on the pavilion.
Can Walton County reasonably account for these actions, or is this a case of religious discrimination?
Dismissed From South Walton High School
On their website, South Walton High School boasts a “School-Community Relations” program designed, ostensibly, to foster a good working-relationship between the school and community. Their program policy states that:
“The principal may permit the use of school facilities by a civic, religious, or other organization for non-school activities on a specific, temporary, or short-term basis.”
That same policy defines “short-term basis” as being up to six months.
With Sunday morning venues being hard to come by, we decided to take the school up on their invitation, so I sent the following email inquiry:
Greetings, I'd like to speak with someone about using SWHS facilities for a short-term, recurrent Sunday morning gathering space (10:30a-12:30p) for 3 to 6 months. We are a small, local church congregation of about 15-30 people. We have a limited budget, and are looking for a venue that will be the right fit for us.”
I received a very prompt phone call from a school administrator overseeing the program. This person was friendly, professional, and very accommodating. He invited me up to the school, gave me a tour, and made a suggestion as to what he thought would be the best classroom for us to use.
I reserved the space for four weeks, as a trial run, with expressed intentions of renewing for a short-term recurrent use of 3 to 6 months, as per my initial email inquiry. At no point was there any word from school administration that we’d not be extended further use. In fact, this administrator seemed very amiable to our church using school facilities, and he voluntarily told me that his church had previously met, for a season, in one of the Walton County schools.
In addition, we received a follow up email from the principle, to make sure we were being accommodated:
“Brandon, this is Dr. Tibbetts, principal of South Walton High School. I think you have spoken with Mr. [Administrator], but if your questions have not been resolved, I am glad to get involved. Please call me at 850-622-5020 and let me know if a regular size classroom will accommodate you?”
Our first Sunday went off without a hitch. A stack of chairs awaited us, per our agreement. I was given a master key which opened the entrance, the classroom, and the restrooms. I was given a document in hand with clear instructions, as well as the administrator’s personal cell phone, in case of emergency. The entire process was worthy of commendation. At least, initially, it appeared the school really did want to foster a good working relationship with the community.
The following week, everything changed. I received an unexpected email, from a newly appointed administrator for the school-community relations program, informing me that the school had approved us for the remaining three Sundays, but also stating: “we will not be able to approve any dates past that for use of classrooms.”
In response to this inexplicable turn of events, I sent an email seeking explanation:
Hi Mr. [Administrator], It was great to meet you today. Thank you for your help. I'd like to ask you why the decision has been made to not approve us for future dates? It's my understanding, based on what I read on the school website, that the school facility is open for use by churches, and that for up to six month terms. Have we done something to offend? What's the issue? Could you advise me on who I might talk with to appeal for reconsideration?
In response (email), this newly appointed administrator assured us we’d done nothing wrong, stating:
“It was nice meeting you as well. I am including our Principal Dr. Tibbetts in this email as well. Let me start by saying no you did nothing to offend us. We came to the decision due to the COW's (computers on wheels) and clear touch panels in the rooms that are very fragile and very expensive. We thought it in the best interest of all parties involved to allow you to finish out your reservation through the month which would give you time to seek out another venue.”
So, the official reason given, by the SWHS administration and principle, for not allowing us to continue using school facilities, was, allegedly, over their concern that we might damage their “very fragile and very expensive” computers & touch screens in the classroom.
Obviously, this “reason” appears flimsy and disingenuous on its face, but I want to quickly innumerate five reasons why I believe this is, undoubtedly, a dubious excuse. I’ll let you, the reader, decide for yourself.
Firstly, South Walton HS’s community-relations program continues, two months later, to list “classrooms,” on their website, as being available for use by the community.
Secondly, the classroom which South Walton High School rented to us is an old boy’s locker room converted into a spare classroom which, according to one administrator, is not used regularly. It does not, in fact, contain the latest “very fragile and very expensive” computers. It has one older touch screen parked next to a podium that is so dilapidated it falls apart if you move it.
Thirdly, when I toured that spare classroom-locker room, during school hours, there were a dozen plus rambunctious teenage boys bustling in and out, completely 100% unsupervised. It strains credulity that South Walton’s administration was genuinely concerned that a church, comprised of 15 middled-aged adults, might wreck the place in one hour on Sunday. We’re Baptist. We don’t have that kind of energy.
Fourthly, the school required us to take out a million-dollar insurance policy. I’m quite sure everything in that old locker room could be bought brand spanking new for a tiny fraction of that.
Finally, when I called the principle to propose using a different space (such as the auditorium, or cafetorium) which did not contain “very fragile and very expensive” computers, I was declined, and given two more flimsy excuses for why—Dr. Tibbett told me we couldn’t use any spaces in the school because there had recently been a leak, and because the school was about to undergo a major construction project.
Naturally, one wonders how this school will manage to stay operational five days a week, for some 1,500 students and staff, in the face of a leak and a looming construction project so big that it precludes them from opening up one back entrance, to one spare classroom, on one off day per week, for one small church. In the four weeks I was there, I saw no evidence of a leak or a construction project.
[Retraction: I had a sixth point—Another church had called me with a related experience, but after publication of this post, they called me to retract.]
Welcome To Sonic
In response to being declined further use, I sent a very respectful email to the principle and program administrator requesting an opportunity to discuss the matter. When that email went unanswered, two weeks later, I sent a follow up email. When that email also went unanswered, a week later, I called the principle. She was immediately curt, and unprofessional on the phone. Despite our having never met, or spoken to each other, she addressed me simply by my first name, leaving off my title as pastor, and told me, tersely, “your days at the school are coming to an end.” She then proceeded with the aforementioned flimsy excuses.
As far as I’m concerned, her disrespect is water off a duck’s back, but my wife’s mouth was agape as she overheard on speaker phone—and more to the point, it was revealing. Twenty-five years ago, I was an honor-roll student in High School. I was never a troublemaker. In fact, it was not uncommon for teachers to leave me in charge of their classroom when they stepped out. As a student, I always strived to be a leader, and I always enjoyed mutual respect with teachers and administrators. It was strange to be back in a high school, as a pastor, no less, yet treated like a nuisance. In the following weeks, things went from bad to worse.
On our second Sunday, we arrived at the school to discover the restrooms were locked, and we had no master key, as before, to unlock them. Additionally, there were no chairs available, as per our agreement. We scoured the sprawling high school for chairs, before finally pulling benches out of the locker room.
On our third Sunday, the new key they gave me did not work, and we were locked out of the building. I had no emergency number to contact. Our church service was scheduled to start at 11a. In desperation, I emailed the administrator, from the parking lot, and he sent someone to open up the building at 11:15 am. We hustled to start our service by 11:30a. The guy who came to unlock the door for us was nice enough to unlock the restrooms, which again, were locked, despite the administrator’s assurance they’d be unlocked.
On our fourth, and final Sunday, we managed to get into the building, ok, only to find ourselves locked out of the classroom space, and once again, with the restrooms locked, and no chairs. Just like the week before, I sent a last minute email to the administrator, from the parking lot, and he sent someone up to the school around 11:15a.
Suffice to say, there was a night and day difference between the school’s professional and attentive manner in the first week, over against their discourteous and negligent manner moving forward. In short, we got “Chic-fil-A” service on the front end, and “Sonic Drive Thru” treatment thereafter. Clearly something had changed.
My personal read on this situation, which I cannot prove, is that the school administration must have received complaints about our church, which they deny, and once they deemed us a “menace,” they turned us away under false pretense—and on our way out, they simply didn’t care enough to honor their side of the agreement by providing basic things like building access, somewhere to sit, and some privacy to pee.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Walton County’s school-community relations program appears to be a façade aimed at appeasing tax-payers—a mere tokenism, to maintain a “pro-religious” guise in the community.
Use Your Library Voice
The following Sunday, our little church regrouped at the Coastal branch of the Walton County Library. According to the Library’s policy: The Library’s meeting room may be used by individual, civic, religious, or other organizations for private use…” for up to 3 successive months.
Two days after our Sunday service, I received an email from the library, which read:
“It has come to our attention that alcohol is being used in the meeting room at the Coastal Branch Library during your booking,…Unfortunately, we will no longer be able to issue reservation permits to use the room due to violation of our meeting room policy for the use of alcohol.”
Surely, this was all just a misunderstanding, so I sent an email response, hoping to resolve the matter:
“Thank you for your email notifying us of our violation and subsequent denial of future facility use. Yes, we used the wine for communion, per our religious practice & conviction. We were not drinking "socially" on the premises. We understand you have made a decision to deny future facility use based on your policy…and would simply ask whether or not you might consider granting us an exemption or exception on religious grounds? We'd be most grateful.”
Their response: Alcohol is not allowed in the facility regardless of purpose. We are unable to grant any exemptions to this policy.
There you have it. We were, effectively, kicked out of the library for taking communion during our worship service. Apparently, our constitutionally protected right to practice religion according to conviction is irrelevant in Walton County, Florida. Walton County libraries will gladly feed your children all the sexual grooming books they can stomach, (see here & here) but allowing a church to administer the sacrament of the gospel, during Sunday worship, is a bridge too far for this “conservative” county.
All Signs Point To Freeport
If these were all just isolated incidents, it would be plausible to dismiss them; perhaps chalk them up to some bumbling bureaucrats who made some bad calls, but, unfortunately, the pattern points to religious discrimination—and that’s all the more glaring when you consider the backstory, which takes us back to Freeport, Florida.
In April of 2021, I moved from Texas to Florida, to pastor Freeport First Baptist Church. Three months into my ministry, there was a concerted effort, by prominent leaders and citizens, to smear me and run me out of town.
I won’t recount all the details here, but the reason my preaching ministry was targeted, when other local pastors were not, is because I did not shy away from preaching the full counsel of God’s Word. On the contrary, my preaching confronted the sexual rebellion which some of Freeport’s most prominent people openly practice—most notably, a subversive feminism and a Halmark-styled homosexuality. I’ve chronicled all of that here, here, & here.
First Baptist Church remained under siege, from this pernicious group, for the duration of my ministry. Every time we’d start to rebound, another wave of gossip and slander would hit. Our numbers plummeted, and we could barely pay our bills.
This group did everything in their power to run me out of town. They even went so far as to have me banned from walking on Freeport’s Middle School track.
Making History
One day, in December of 2022, I was dutifully informed, by a parishioner, of yet another social media thread against me, this time for the scandalous crime of walking my dog around the middle school track. Like most of the town gossip, this was done behind my back, so I couldn’t see it—but reportedly, the thread was started by a Walton County School District personnel. (I wish I had a screenshot, but the dutiful parishoner was elderly, and did not have social media on the phone.) For context: I was living next door to the Freeport Middle School and track, and it was my daily habit to walk my dogs around the neighborhood, including, sometimes, on the track.
Days after this latest online gossip started up, I was out walking, minus my dogs, across the far back side of the middle school backfield, next to my house; which is an open, empty field behind the track, and nowhere remotely near anyone. (In fact, I would have been much, much closer to anyone at the school, if I had walked down the public sidewalk on the other side.) After a brisk pass across the empty back field, I decided to move my walk on over to the public side street, so as to avoid further controversy. As I was coming back around the corner, on the side street, I looked up, and saw two men, in the distance, flagging me down; one was the middle school campus security, and the other was a member of the sheriff’s department, in uniform.
They informed me, in no uncertain terms, that I was not permitted to set foot on school property, including during non-school hours, except for school sanctioned events. I was effectively banned from ever walking on or near the school track again.
To understand how petty and preposterous this is, keep in mind, Freeport is a small town, and like most small towns, the tax-paying community is accustomed to treating the school track like it’s a “community” track. In the year and a half that I lived next to the track, I saw community members daily using this track for non-sanctioned school events; including boys playing pick-up basketball, fathers training their kids in soccer, young adults jogging, neighbors walking, so forth.
Furthermore, I’ve seen, at least, a dozen different people walking their dogs around this same track, not to mention plenty of stray dogs. During town parades, I’ve seen horses, and horse poop, on the track. I’ve seen the Sherriff’s office training their K-9 unit on the adjacent school baseball field. Once, I even saw a rabbit set a new personal record on the hundred yard dash. And numerous times, I’ve seen an entire flock of chickens strutting their stuff across this very same sporting complex. Too my knowledge, I’m the only person, or creature, to ever be kicked off the middle school track in Freeport’s entire history. I guess I really ruffled some feathers.
To further demonstrate their rank hypocrisy in the matter—five days a week, Freeport Middle School used my front yard as parking for student pick-up, and not once did they ask me for permission. Every single week, I had students piling their backpacks on my front porch and playing basketball in my front yard, while they waited for parents. I never complained about sharing my yard, or picking up students’ trash, because I was glad to serve the community I lived in, even when the powers-that-be refused to treat me with the same decency in return.
I battled this kind of underhanded behavior for a year and a half, before I finally resigned my pastorate and started planting a new church. We began holding services under the city park pavilion, until the city roped off the pavilion. We just moved on over to the woods, and kept going. When I tried to promote our new church on local community boards, I was blocked and censored. We just kept going. Four or five months into our church plant, we jumped up to 30 in attendance, and then suddenly, without explanation, we lost half of those people, and they wouldn’t return a phone call. I’ll never know the reason they all left, but it’s not hard to suspect that someone whispered in their ear.
Unfortunately, the underhanded behavior and blacklisting have continued, low key, to this very day. While it may be coincidence, it’s worth noting that the two administrators most directly involved in our recent dismissals, from the library and from the high school, both reside in Freeport, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the town gossips got to them.
In Closing
I took a principled and public stand for Biblical sexuality and I was aggressively blacklisted as ‘the wrong kind of Christian’ for Walton County, Florida. There’s a palpable pressure, in these parts, to get with the “progressive” program. Consequently, the only kind of preachers tolerated, at least in Freeport, are squishy, watered-down preachers who give lip-service to the Bible, while turning a blind eye to blatant sexual sin.
I hope Bible-believing Christians in Walton County will wake up and realize that religious freedom and Christian conviction are slowly, but surely being eroded in this ostensibly ‘conservative’ county. We can’t afford to sit by for another decade while “progressives” softpedal the sexual revolution, and increasingly push Biblical Christianity to the margins. As the saying goes, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”
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