I grew up in a town so religious that there was a law on the books saying that black people couldn't own property within the city limits (old-school Mormon influence, they've since lightened up on that, but our town never caught up), and I regularly heard tripe like 'it's the mark of Cain' and 'they can't help being born like that' and 'I'm gonna go cut me some n*ggers.' We had more churches than restaurants, and a 'megachurch' with it's own 'school' (that graduated kids who couldn't read and went on to a life of stealing stuff, holding up 7-11s, home invasions and welfare checks to support their own half-dozen illiterate, but surprisingly fecund, little bible-thumpers).
And yet, it never occured to me to hide my interest in D&D. I'd already been picked on for a decade because of the comic-book thing, so I was pretty comfortably ensconced in social outcast land. In fact, if I thought it would have kept them further away from me (and not gotten me drowned in a bathtub in an exorcism-gone-horribly-wrong), I would have marched down the halls goose-stepping and shouting Hail Satan.
Moving to new england (as soon as I was old enough to get out of that bible-belt speaking-in-tongues 'slain-in-the-spirit' snake-handling freakshow), I got randomly assigned to room with someone in college, and digging through my suitcase pushed aside a Monster Manual, and my random roommate said, 'Oh, you play D&D. Awesome. The guys at the Medieval Society are having a game tonight, wanna go?'
I realized then that I'd come home.
If anyone doesn't like that I play D&D (or read comic books, or watch cartoons with the kids), they can go screw. I never needed their uninformed judgemental opinions when I was a kid, I don't need 'em now that I'm a grown-up.