I wasn’t out to students in my first years as a high school ESL teacher. I thought my personal life, including the fact of my same-sex partner, should remain separate from my teaching persona. I couldn’t imagine how being my complete self at work could make me a better teacher. I only worried that my students, who might come from conservative cultural backgrounds, would feel uncomfortable knowing their teacher was gay.
While I stayed closeted, I saw that my students benefited from bringing their full selves to the classroom, from sharing stories of their journeys to the US to being open about their immigration statuses. But they were not as open about sexual orientation. The topic simmered beneath the surface of their chatter. Once, I overheard one of my students announce to her friends at lunch that she was bisexual. It was unclear whether she was speaking in earnest or making the announcement for shock value. Possibly she was exploring feelings of queerness and wanted to test the waters of her friends’ reactions while reserving the right to say, “Just kidding!” if it didn’t go well. Whatever the case, there was obvious curiosity from the group around this taboo topic. Episodes like this convinced me to come out. I knew I could offer an example of queerness not as deviant or scary, but as simply one aspect of a normal, successful, dare I say slightly boring adult.
Recent anti-LGBTQ legislation is telling me to go back into the closet. But I can’t. Without visible queer adults or places like GSAs for students to discuss sexuality and gender identity, questions like the ones my students had many years ago get labeled unacceptable and pushed down, where they fester into self-hate. Students who need to discover themselves and feel accepted are left psychologically isolated. And that is a very dangerous place to leave the adolescent mind.
It doesn’t take a whole campus of rainbows to make LGBTQ kids feel safe (although if anyone’s offering that, I’m not saying no). A handful of visible allies can make all the difference, sometimes in unexpected ways - One student who came out as gay was applying for asylum. I knew that any threats he faced or fear of returning to his home country because of being gay could bolster his asylum claim, so I asked him whether his lawyer knew. He told me his lawyer did not, but that he would share it. Having the space to be open at school can be lifesaving in multiple ways.
Being out is good for me, too. I no longer have to constantly edit what I say on Monday mornings to make it sound like I spent the weekend alone. Teaching is hard enough without wasting energy on hiding myself!
I am inspired by the LGBTQ activists I see speaking to state legislatures and school board meetings. Certain roles can only be performed by those with lived experience, but there are plenty of roles for allies, too. And we’re needed because activism is tiring. (I include myself as a cisgender ally to the trans community.) We can show up at the meetings or demonstrations where LGBTQ activists are leading the way, display ally symbols at our schools, and educate ourselves. I found a good place to further my own education was the list of challenged books! All Boys Aren’t Blue is my favorite so far.
Whether we talk about LGBTQ topics in the classroom or not, we are teaching kids about them. Our openness keeps kids healthy, while our silence promotes stigma. We make the choice.
Clayton is an ESL teacher at Cary High School in Wake County
