Blog Post #10
Reflection on “Queering Our Schools” by The Editors of Rethinking Schools
(Hi! This blog post uses the phrase “queer” in a reclaimed sense of the word. There is power in taking back what you have been called. Thanks!)
Admittedly, being queer in a public school sucks hardcore. As someone who grew up as one of maybe ten other queer students in a suburban small town with more farmland than critical thinking, being out in high school was one of the most frustrating, isolating, and annoying experiences of my life. I was outed as queer in 8th grade and immediately realized that school was no longer a fully safe space for me. For much of it, my sexuality went undiscussed. Most of the students around me either made no note of my identity or kept it to mildly polite microaggressions and weirdly personal questions about my relationships. In 10th grade, a boy I was tutoring asked me if “he could watch” me and my partner at the time. When I told my teacher, the boy was pulled from class, but still returned to our session the next week and continued to ogle at my girlfriend when she would shuttle me snacks after her class. I was never asked how I felt about the incident. In 11th grade, the boy who sat behind me in American History would kick my chair and whisper slurs when I walked by. He asked me once if I thought God would forgive me for kissing a girl. I told him I was late for class and then snuck off to find solace in the upstairs bathroom. The boy never got in trouble.
Throughout high school, queerness existed as both a taboo, not to be mentioned nor discussed within the classroom, and a spectacle. I can note far too many instances of blatant homophobia and hate within my school. There is something so incredibly dehumanizing about watching the other members of your community being attacked for no reason other than existing and doing nothing about it. As many times as I spoke out against the prejudice, there were twice as many times I bit my lip and kept my head down. When the only openly gay teacher was harrassed constantly by students and parents alike, I gave him a private smile and kept my head down. When the nonbinary student a grade below me became the target of seemingly unending bullying, I told them I liked their flag and kept my head down. When the girl next to me in AP Art grinned that “at least you're bisexual and not like, a full on lesbian,” I laughed it off and kept my head down. I knew nothing would be done.
During this time, I had one teacher who fought for me, my community, and my identity, no matter what. I won’t name him in the interest of privacy, but this educator is the reason I find myself pursuing a teaching degree today. In my opinion, this teacher is the pinnacle of pride, mentorship, and kindness. He taught me to be proud of myself and to speak out against hatred. He taught me how to write, how to craft my words into weapons, and face discrimination with the shield of education. He is the best teacher I’ve ever met. He is the point of this long, drawn-out anecdote. As I read this text, I reflect on this teacher's actions and recognize a key aspect of how we, as educators, can stand up for our queer students. We must, as Delpit reiterated in her own text, prepare our students for the real world. This text encourages us to include queer identities in our curriculum. I can certainly agree with this sentiment, but I do not believe it to be universal. While it is helpful to queer students to have our identities prevalent, it also places us further on display. In my own experience, being on display was something I was subjected to often. I think, as educators, we can support our queer students best by empowering them with the skills to stay unshaken of homophobia. Teach our queer students to write, to debate, to be proud of themselves, to enable them to make the decision to educate or ignore. Teach our queer students to be fully, 100% confident, and proud of their identity. Teach them to shine.
With this post, I’ve attached a video essay by Contrapoints on gender. Really interesting if you're curious about the spectrum of queer identities and also I am obsessed with everything Contra does. Check it out!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pTPuoGjQsI
To Share: The author of this text states that 82% of queer students have been verbally harassed on the basis of their sexuality. What does being queer mean to you? Have you ever faced discrimination, and how did it affect you? How were the queer students in your school treated?