Many believe blasphemy laws are ancient relics—left behind with superstition and ignorance. Civilized people no longer fear offending gods, they say, because we’ve outgrown that kind of thinking.
But is that really true?
My name is Matthew Mastronardi, and in 2025, I was fired from my job as a public high school Spanish teacher—not for violating policy, not for harming students, but for committing modern-day blasphemy.
My crime? I read aloud from To Kill a Mockingbird—including every word, exactly as it was written.
It was April 17, 2025. In the middle of 6th period, I paced around the class as my pupils worked on an assignment. I overheard a side conversation which would change my life for the next several months. Two girls were discussing the novel they are currently assigned to read in their English class: To Kill a Mockingbird.
They were talking about how they were instructed to “skip over the N-word.” I was surprised and calmly expressed disagreement that they shouldn’t have to do that. I told them that I believed it undermined the historical context and didn’t show respect for authorial intent. After all, the author chose historically accurate language to describe the time she was writing about and to skip over words distances the reader from the message.
This began a somewhat candid discussion, but valuable nonetheless, about whether or not the word in question ought to be skipped. I saw it as a teachable moment. I wanted to teach students that they have the right to engage with literature honestly and they certainly shouldn’t have to worry about being called a racist for doing so.
I told the kids that a person should never use that word in a discriminatory manner, but reading verbatim from a classic book is a very different thing. A sane society ought to be able to see the difference between the two uses. This was a lesson that I believed transcended Spanish and was a worthy endeavor to spend a few minutes discussing to help my students learn to think critically.
That is when things got interesting.
A girl asked me very straightforwardly, “Mr. Mastronardi, if you were reading the book would you read the word?” I answered plainly, “Yes, if I were reading the book, I would read every word.”
A boy instantly handed the book to me and challenged me to read from the book aloud. I knew I passed the point of no return. I could either meet real student curiosity and display conviction or be a coward and affirm what most teenagers think about adults – that they are all talk. At that moment, I knew this wasn’t just a lesson about literature. It was a test of integrity.
The entire class was off their phones, looking at me. I had their undivided attention (a rarity these days, I must say). I took the book and calmly read a few sentences, one which included the word nigger.
I returned the book to the student and proceeded to explain the difference between context and intent. Many students appreciated the lesson and some were just shocked and thought what I did was funny. I imagine they were excited to take something juicy back to their friend group to talk about. Unknown to me at the time, I was being recorded on video. That video since made its rounds around the school and up to the administration.
A few days went by, and nothing happened. But little did I know that I had offended a god. Like an avalanche, I received the wages of my crime.
I received a verbal warning from the principal which stated I behaved unprofessionally and in an uncivil manner with students. I thought this may be the end of it, but it continued. Two days later, the Human Resources director requested a meeting with me, and I was given the ultimatum to either voluntarily resign or I would face the non-renewal of my contract.
I refused to voluntarily resign. After that the superintendent served me papers of non-renewal. The reasons specified were vague and provided no details: parent concerns, poor judgment and concerns that it is not in the best interest of the district to continue my employment.
Prior to this, I had never had a single disciplinary action, there is no record of parental complaints, and I have passed every teaching evaluation. But I committed sacrilege, and that was enough to get rid of me.
I am in the process of fighting this, because what’s at stake is bigger than just one word. It’s about our ability to speak the truth in education. This story has been covered by national outlets such as the New York Post, Washington Times, Daily Mail and the Post Millennial. People are waking up however. People are losing confidence in free speech and their ability to speak the truth. We cannot take free speech for granted.
God has given us the right to speak, share ideas, and most importantly, speak the truth. Obviously this comes with great responsibility to exercise this right in a God-honoring way. Jesus in Matthew 12 states that we will give an account for every careless word we speak. Words are like tools, and they ought to be used for their intended purpose and because of the sharpness of many words, it’s good they remain tucked away for rare use.
Blasphemy has not been abandoned in the year 2025, it’s simply been secularized. To say that a word is unutterable, no matter what the context is proof enough. But we are called to freedom, we are called to speak the truth, and we are called to build others up with the truth.
Does the truth matter more than our discomfort? Does our ability to speak the truth weaken when secular blasphemy laws prevent us from doing so? Are we slowly creating a sanitized version of history where nobody has to think or feel too much discomfort? The truth has to come before comfort–or we’ll lose both.
Blasphemy laws haven’t vanished—they’ve just changed names. And if we don’t speak the truth now, future generations may forget what truth even sounded like.
Matthew Mastronardi, lives in Spokane, WA. He is a husband and father of three. He hosts a podcast called The Great Reassessment. Follow him on X @RealMastro21
