Queering Our Schools

My immediate question when embarking on, “Queering Our Schools,” a chapter in the social justice-based collection Rethinking Sexism, Gender, and Sexuality” was: When was this published? Answer: January 2016, mere months after the Supreme Court’s landmark Obergefell v. Hodges case that legalized same-sex marriage, a cause for which I had consistently fought for in Rhode Island since 2004. (We legalized it legislatively in 2013.)

When I was advocating for marriage equality, I didn’t have much interest in entering the institution of marriage, but I knew a lot of people who were desperate for the legal protections. Now that I am 1.5 years into a same-sex marriage with two young children, I am immensely grateful to possess all of the rights and responsibilities marriage confers. It’s frightening to think how arbitrarily marriage equality came about – a five-four Supreme Court decision that would be unthinkable in 2025. And now my wife and I are each pursuing costly second-parent adoption of the child we didn’t give birth to. Marriage equality was not the be-all and end-all of LGBTQ+ civil rights, as many believed at the time. The backlash has hit the transgender community the hardest.

The Rethinking editors note that “the ‘traditional’ mom-dad-and-kids family is a minority – not a majority – experience, so many children and their families are affected by what are often oppressive school customs” (p.25) It’s a great point, likening the struggle for acceptance of children of same-sex parents to children raised by other family member, guardians, or a single parent. When we accommodate one group of people, we often make things better for other groups of people. (Think ADA regulations for wheelchairs paving the way for stroller-pushing parents.) Why should any child grow up believing their family is somehow less than?

The editors ask: “How can we create classrooms and schools where each child, parent, and staff member’s unique, beautiful self is appreciated and nurtured?” (p. 23) This reminded me of an NPR interview with a teacher that I heard just a few days ago. A gay student asked to speak with the teacher after class, at which point he explained his discomfort with a heteronormative joke she had made in class. The teacher had been riding high, feeling like the lesson had gone swimmingly. Her confidence plunged at learning she had made this student feel "othered." She apologized, and he went on to explain that it was only because she had created such a safe environment that he was comfortable telling her about this minor infraction. He went on to say that every other classroom overtly projected heteronormativity, and that her classroom was a respite. This of course encouraged the teacher, and her attitude was that she could always try harder to be inclusive of everyone.” I thought how lovely that was, and yet I imagined how other teachers might be discouraged by this feedback and give up. And I truly empathize with that sentiment. (I have certainly “stepped in it” myself.) As the editors point out: “When you invite kids to talk openly and ask questions about gender and sexuality, you have to be ready for whatever happens. It’s trickier than geometry.” (p. 23)

The RI Department of Education’s “Guidance for RI Schools on Transgender and Gender Nonconforming Students” issued in 2016 helps teachers navigate the tricky and rapidly changing landscape of gender identity among their students. The guidance aims “to create the conditions to provide a safe and supportive environment at school.”

I have read this document before and appreciate its thoroughness and conviction to protect the equal rights of trans students in the classroom. RIDE justifies the guidance by citing the various studies showing negative health outcomes for trans students. To me, one of the most compelling arguments for trans rights is the fact RIDE cites (from Advocates for Youth, 2016) estimating that “one in 2,000 babies is born with the biological characteristics of both sexes or of neither sex entirely.” This is especially compelling if you believe God doesn’t make mistakes.

Sadly, many people’s experience is so far removed from the trans experience that rather than try to wrap their head around it, or even just tolerate it, they would rather trans people conform and pretend to not exist. What will happen if the federal government demands that RIDE retract this guidance? Who is prepared to stick up for the trans youth who will be hung out to dry? I hope that RIDE’s rules are here to stay. It’s the best chance these kids have to get an education and pursue their dreams. Earlier today, local organization The Womxn Project reported that the Chariho School District voted to uphold RIDE's guidance, saying "Through personal stories, expert medical input, and legal arguments, the community made it clear: the RIDE policy protecting trans students and Title IX rules must stay." In response, the committee paused its effort to strip these protections—for now." If you know a trans or LGBTQ+ youth in need of support, please refer them to Youth Pride, Inc., a wonderful local nonprofit.

The “Rethinking…” editors argue that “the cornerstone of nurturing classrooms and schools is community” (p.24), and that sounds spot on to me. With curiosity, intention, and humility, teachers and youth workers can build that community.