We as members of GLSEN’s National Student Council know that going back to school can be difficult; especially if you are LGBTQ+. These tips go out to the kids who worry about more than summer reading and first-day outfits. You deserve a school where you feel safe and respected; and we hope that these tips will make your school experience a little less complicated
You’ll meet new people even if you are returning to the same school. By providing an opportunity for teachers and students to share their pronouns, you demonstrate that you're not assuming anything about their identity or experience. It’s important to remember that the way you perceive someone does not dictate how they identify, what their pronouns are, or generally how they like to be referred to. It also opens up the opportunity for you to share yours as well!
Example 1: “Hi! My name is El and I use they, them, theirs pronouns. What about you?” Example 2: “This is my friend El, they are in my Theatre class.Despite negative stigma about being “in the closet”, your inability or fear of expressing yourself does not make you any less of a person who belongs in the LGBTQ+ community. Do it for yourself, and only if you are ready. If you decide to come out at school, consider your safety and the capacity of your support system. Amongst other things, you’ll want to think about who has power over you, where you feel most safe, and what resources you can supplement when having to educate others. We all deserve to live openly and personal safety is the most important thing on the list.
Remember that no matter what comes your way, your reaction/emotions are valid. School can throw a lot of things at you; from group projects and strict teachers to bullying or difficult breakups. It’s important to find positive coping mechanisms or outlets to release these emotions. This may take the form of listening to music, speaking to a therapist/trusted adult, or finding time in your schedule to do something you enjoy; like drawing or watching an episode of your favorite TV show. You can also follow us on Instagram and check out our cool affirmations and photos!
It can be difficult, but locating an adult that you trust can really improve your K-12 school experience. This could be anyone; a teacher, a school nurse or psychologist, a librarian, a coach, or even a janitor. Ensuring you have someone to talk to or rely on at school can be really helpful when trying to report harassment, seeking help for mental illness, or navigate other school processes. You don’t have to go through anything alone!
It is okay to still be figuring things out! Middle school and high school are a great time to experiment with your identity. Finding what is right for you may come in the form of changing up your self-expression, going by different pronouns, pursuing relationships with people of different genders, or finding a class/extracurricular you really enjoy. Allow yourself time and space to explore your identities, they can also change over time and that is totally OK!
If you are going back to school using a different name or pronoun, there are ways that you can prepare. You can change the information on your school records by reaching out to your school office or guidance counselor. Another option is to email your teachers before classes start and explain how you wish to be addressed throughout the school year. You can also ask them to call out only last names to give other students the opportunity to share the name they go by rather than what is automatically listed on the roster. A reminder: you must explicitly state how you wish to be referred to depending upon the audience (to avoid being outed.) For legal support visit GLSEN’s Know Your Rights Page.
If you are an LGBTQ+ student returning to your school, take the opportunity to share your knowledge with others. You could join/form your school’s GSA, put up posters encouraging acceptance, or perhaps even form a kind of “lunch bunch,” allowing other LGBTQ-identified students to meet others like them. Using your experience to help other LGBTQ+ folks navigate the challenges at school will not only make you feel good, but hopefully foster a culture of support.
It’s a great idea to connect with your Gender and Sexuality Alliance (GSA) advisor/leaders when entering a new school year (if you haven’t already.) As an LGBTQ-identified student, GSA can serve as an affirming place for you to experiment with your identity, change your expression, try out new names, or pronouns. If you don’t have a GSA check out this resource on how to start one and how to find new members.
This tip is especially significant for those of you who take gym class, choir, or play a wind instrument. If you’re someone who chooses to bind, ensure that you have a sports bra or looser fitting piece of clothing in case you need to change. If you are someone who tucks, you can plan ahead and bring a change of clothes like tights or tighter but not restricting undergarments. Remember: only bind or tuck with articles meant for that specific purpose and always follow the time guidelines provided by the supplier.
Many school districts have health professionals such as social workers, psychologists, and nurses already on staff. It’s a good idea to know how to contact them and where their offices are. For example: the nurse might have a non-gendered bathroom you can use, the social worker may be able to provide you or your family guidance on any given issue, and the psychologist could advise you on healthy coping skills. These folks are resources at your disposal so make sure you take advantage! Whatever you are going through, you don’t have to face it alone.
GLSEN and the National Student Council wishes students, teachers, and families all the best as they begin this school year. If you are looking for more information, check out GLSEN’s website! We focus on making schools more LGBTQ+ inclusive by providing resources to students and educators.
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I’ve been out as some form of not-heterosexual since I was 18. I’ve built my professional and personal life around affirming LGBTQ identity, finding joy in queer community and creating chosen family. In my adult life, my queerness has brought me closer to people with shared identities. It’s helped me connect with people who share my interests, my understanding of the world, my vision for family and future.
Except in one area: religion and spirituality
I was raised as a staunch Catholic in a small, conservative town off of Cape Cod in Massachusetts. I’ve been involved in some sort of social justice activism for the past decade, and I like to say that my activism was founded in the Catholic Church. Watching the priest interpret the readings into meaningful homilies every week was my inspiration for going into teaching, and resonates with me now when I give a keynote, training, or workshop: How will I take what I know, what resources we’ve read together, and help guide this conversation to benefit this group?
I also like to say, as with all of my past loves, that the Catholic Church lost a good one when they lost me. In my own coming out experiences, I quickly noticed a pattern. The people in my life who were more Catholic were having a much harder time accepting me than people who weren’t. Watching the realization of my queerness shove a wedge between me and people who I loved and depended on dearly, family who I’d known my entire life, was a really painful experience. I was hurt, and angry, and I turned that anger towards the Church. They were the ones telling my family and friends that there was something wrong with me. They were to blame.
I quickly went from being an altar server, eucharistic minister, lecturer, youth ministry leader, religious education teacher, and regular Sunday mass attendee to rejecting the entire institution of organized religion and everyone who still believed and followed in these traditions. I built myself new core principals, new community, new rituals and traditions. Pride became my holiday, Full moon ceremonies and reading new Chani horoscopes became my traditions.
It was easy to carry that anger and ride that division in my adult queer life, to fuel my disappointment and feelings of rejection as I learned more and more about institutional oppression. What I didn’t realize at the time, and what I am still wrestling with today, is all that I lost.
As a person of color and a first-generation American, I have roots in generational trauma and hardship that religion and belief have historically been used to address. As a queer person of color, I deserve every strategy and support available to my mental health that allows me to feel connected to a greater purpose and some type of higher power(s). As someone who was raised Catholic from a young age, my experiences and interpretation of the world and my presence in it in this lifetime have been irrevocably shaped, and I no longer see that as a hardship. It is a gift to be able to believe, and in my darkest, hardest, times, I have a tool that I can use to make it through.
As LGBTQ activists, educators, and advocates, we need to stop perpetuating the myth that there is an inherent division between LGBTQ people and religion/spirituality. Perpetuating this and highlighting disdain or stereotypes of religious people or people of faith only supports the message of the small percentage of people in this group who are driving anti-LGBTQ advocacy. There is work being done in every major organized religion to work on LGBTQ visibitliy, acceptance, and education. Yes, organized religions and the Catholic Church especially are institutions that are built on and reinforce white supremacy, patriarchy, and with it sexism, homophobia, and transphobia. So too, are our institutions of government, medicine, business, and education. Why then it is socially acceptable to participate in all of these systems, while fighting within them and advocating for change, except for religious institutions? What are we saying when we make that distinction between faith-based institutions and other institutions? Who are we benefiting and what are we losing?
As adult leaders in schools, I urge us to create supportive and affirming spaces where students can show up as their whole selves, including their religious background, regardless if they are also queer. LGBTQ youth need to know that they don’t need to throw away their community, their rituals, their families, and their belief systems in order to share realities about their sexuality or gender. This can be especially critical for queer youth of color who’s culture, family, and communities are often intrinsically and generationally linked to religion. Today my spirituality exists with a combination of beliefs that currently include astrology, tarot, Buddhist practices, connection to nature, understanding of the moon and its cycles, prayer and occasionally going to Church. If we want to serve queer youth, we need to give them the space to have their own spiritual journey, to develop and maintain the communities that they need, and stop giving them the messages that they have to lose their faith in order to gain acceptance.
Becca Mui, she/her, is the Education Manager at GLSEN. ]]>When I was four, before I had any idea what being gay was or what it meant, I walked up to my mom and asked her, “Mom, is it weird that I have a crush on Nick Jonas?” She told me without the slightest hesitation that there was nothing wrong with me liking a boy, and that my feelings were completely normal. I’m sure at the time she didn’t think much of that moment, but what she said has stuck with me for years.
Being an effeminate boy in the South with an aversion to contact sports set me apart from my classmates when I was little; I was bullied for years. However, even before I came out to my parents, I knew that no matter what happened to me at school or in the outside world, I would always be able to come home to my family. I knew that they would love me regardless of who I was, all because of that one reassuring comment my mom said to me when I was four.
While I was working on this blog, I talked to a man whose coming out experience was disastrous, and I asked him what he wishes his mother had done differently when he came out to her. He said:
“I wish she had listened. I never expected my mom to be a fan of the LGBTQ+ community; I just wanted her to be a fan of me, and she let me down. I wish she had heard me out instead of turning it into a situation about my weight and telling me that being trans was an escape from my issues. It was and still is hard for me to deal with because my mom is my best friend, and that will end if I’m her son and not her daughter.”
Parent(s) and guardian(s), listen to your children when they come out to you, and be open to what they say. Chances are, they will be going through things and experiencing feelings and situations that you will not be able to relate to, and that’s difficult to accept. Heterosexual cisgender parents will not be able to completely understand their LGBTQ+ child, but if they really listen to what their child says, they can help their child feel safer and more comfortable, and that comfort means the world to LGBTQ+ kids like me.
I also talked to an accepting mother with LGBTQ+ children, and I asked her what she would say to someone whose child had just come out to them. What she told me was:
“When your child comes out to you, it’s going to be a big change for you. The road that you see for your child will become more difficult, and that can be a painful thing to be aware of. You will be introduced to a whole new world and a new life that is going to take some getting used to, and you may have to learn some unfamiliar terminology for your child. Be patient with yourself. Your child may also start exploring what works for them and who they want to be, or how they want to present themselves. You have to be patient with them, too. But above all, accept your child, and always love them. Never stop loving them, and never forget to tell them how much you love them.”
To the parents and guardians of LGBTQ+ kids,
Your child wants you to love them. That can be as simple as telling them that you love them, using the pronouns and name that they have chosen, defending them against unkind comments or rude family members, letting them express themselves, and having their back at school. You can’t control every aspect of your child’s life, but you do have power over what your home atmosphere is like, so make it one that your child wants to be in. You know that the world can be a cruel place, and it is even crueler towards the LGBTQ+ community. Make your home a place where your child doesn’t have to feel bogged down by life’s chaos, but can instead feel at peace, loved, and welcome. You are your child’s first teacher, and you have an important opportunity to teach your child acceptance and compassion. Raise your kids in a home of love, and the world will be better for it.
Sincerely,
an LGBTQ+ kid.
What can your GSA do to provide a space for students who can’t come out at home?
What would you say to a friend who wants to come out to their parents, but is worried about the response?
Dear Educators,
In 2016 after ten years of being an elementary school classroom teacher I made the switch to be GLSEN’s Education Manager. I’ve been in the unique position for the past three years to be responsible for tracking, working with, supporting, and listening to supportive educators, many of whom identify as LGBTQ and all who do this work from a deeply personal and strongly-held conviction that the respect and affirmation that LGBTQ people deserve does not end when they walk into a school building. I’ve been floored, time and time again, by your strength, your determination, your willingness to continue doing the critical work of increasing LGBTQ visibility in schools.
GLSEN research shows that LGBTQ teachers are more likely to engage in LGBTQ-Supportive practices such as “supporting students 1:1” and “displaying signs of support” like rainbow flags or safe space stickers. Over the years GLSEN has collected and shared messages and stories of out LGBTQ educators:
4 Ways You can Support Black, Queer, Trans & GNC Educators Today
Teaching Early Childhood Education as an Out Nonbinary Educator
Follow Their Lead: How Schools can help Trans Educators Thrive
When I Came Out as a Trans Principal, This Was My School's Response
Advice on Making Trans-Inclusive Schools, from My Queer School Counselor
While coming out day is often centered on our first realizations of LGBTQ identity, our internal considerations and the beginning of sharing our true selves with those closest and most trusted around us, out LGBTQ educators know a longer journey. We know we have the responsibility of considering our coworking relationships, our administrators’ views, school and state policies, along with the bonds with our students and their families. There are several stages to being able to bring your whole self to work as an adult in schools, and I don’t take any part of that journey for granted. Wherever you are, by being in schools and being there for your students, you are making a difference.
In Solidarity,
Becca
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As a black muslim woman, I’ve had people who claim to be allies but all they really wanted was to save me from something or somehow be my hero. It’s really easy to go from wanting to be in solidarity with marginalized and oppressed groups to wanting to be the savior, especially when we use the word ally as an identity. This made me realize that I might be this type of ally to people in other communities that I am not apart of.
So what is the right way to being in solidarity with marginalized groups without taking over their voice and space? I talked to some of my peers to see how they are an ally to themselves first and then how they are in allyship with other people in the LGBTQ+ community. Here are three steps that I came up with after talking to them that you can take to be in solidarity and show your support.
Being in allyship with yourself can come in many different forms and for Nia, it is taking it one step at a time. Knowing that there is a community of people who have similar experiences as her is reassuring. Being in a community, learning from others that hold the same identities as you and learning more about yourself is an act of allyship. Although having allies who are not part of the community alongside you is helpful at times, it is not a need. What is a need is learning how to be an ally to yourself and empowered within your identities.
Even within spaces that hold the same identities it’s important to listen and learn. As a black girl, when I’m in spaces created for people of color, I remind myself that even though we have similar experiences, we also have different ones. Recognizing and respecting those differences make the space safe for everyone. So when I’m in a space created for people in my community and other communities that I’m not a part of, I do my best to show the same respect I want in when I’m in spaces created for me. The most helpful way for me to do this is by reminding myself that just because I don’t see it, I don’t hear it, or it does not happen to me does not mean it does not happen at all.
Being an ally is a responsibility. As an ally, you are responsible for educating yourself, doing your research and listening to diverse voices.
Our individual experiences and different identities are interconnected in order to make us who we are. Lily works in allyship with the LGBTQ+ community by educating herself and really understanding the issues that matter to the community. She uses her shared experiences she has with people in the community to connect and further educate herself on experiences they might have that differ from hers.
As a person of color, what Lila needs from her allies is support, so she strives to be supportive of other marginalized groups in return. She recognizes that different allies provide different types of support and together they can make a difference.
There is no one way to be an ally. Allyship can be about taking action and speaking up, but it can also be about simply showing up. The important thing is knowing when to be vocal and loud about your support and when to step back and make space for people you are standing in solidarity with. When in spaces created for marginalized groups you are not apart of, you can be an ally by not taking any leadership positions and still be supportive. Be present physically to take action without taking away the space and voices of marginalized people. This is a good time to pass the mic.
It is important to be aware that an ally is not another word for hero. When I’m in spaces created for my community, I expect allies who show up to be ok with assisting in the background and let the people in that community lead. As an ally to other communities I have the same expectations for myself. My job is to educate myself, listen to the experiences and needs of the people I’m standing in solidarity with, and be supportive in ways that actually help them. This can be as simple as showing up to an event geared towards people in the LGBTQ+ community and helping to pass out pamphlets or just to listen and learn.
An example of moving through all three steps is through school club collaborations. A great way to do this is school clubs collaborating to organize events and bringing the different identities of people together in one place. Having clubs like the Black Student Union and Gender and Sexuality Alliance clubs in school is important in order to create a safe space and community for people who identify with those groups. Bringing both groups together can be important for those communities to come together because our different identities intersect. Also to acknowledge students that identify in both communities that need your allyship.
What are ways that you’ve seen the three steps the author laid out take place in your school environment?
What are the steps that you are going to take personally to be in solidarity with those that don’t hold the same identities as you?
What are action steps that your GSA can create solidarity with other clubs in your school?
I’m writing today from a place of frustration and aggravation. I am writing because I am exhausted by having bisexual people be disregarded, ignored, and redefined. I believe we can do better to support and care for our bisexual community.
I was at a training recently coordinated by a national organization for educators about creating LGBTQIA+ inclusive school environments. While most of the training was helpful, the organizers shared definitions of terminology for use with elementary students. Among those was this definition of bisexual: People who love people of two genders.
A simple and correct definition of bisexual is: People who love people of more than one gender. This definition aligns with community definitions from organizations including the Bisexual Resource Center, Bisexual Organizing Project, and BiNet USA. Why does the definition matter? My experience has been that there have been attempts to more narrowly define bisexual people.
Why did the incorrect definition make me so upset? I’ve been self-identifying as bisexual for over twenty years. I recognize my gender as genderqueer. The number of genders I acknowledge and have loved has never been something I’ve needed to restrict to any particular number for myself nor for acceptance in the bisexual community. The idea of there being a number of genders or a limit to my capacity to love within those genders is as nonsensical to me as proposing that there’s some number limit possible for how many or what kinds of cupcakes I might want to eat. Hearing and seeing that definition of bisexual left me feeling like my story, my community, and my life was being erased. I was very hurt that this incorrect and harmful definition clearly written without bisexual community input was being transmitted to elementary schools across the country.
It’s important to point out that there is nothing wrong with the pansexual identity or the definition of pansexual given at the training: People who love people of any gender. I radically support individuals making and choosing their own terms. I also recognize that the decision to self-identify as bisexual or pansexual is deeply personal, can be fluid, and may also be informed by a person’s race, class, gender, age, or where they live. This applies similarly to any of the other more than fifty identity labels that may be used by people who love others of more than one gender. I use the word bi+ for this big umbrella that includes bisexual, polysexual, omnisexual, and many more.
It’s also critical to acknowledge the commonalities of experience among bi+ people, using whatever personal identities fit them best. This matters in making policies and programs that support the needs of bi+ people. We need a larger understanding of who is in the bi+ community in order to effectively advocate for bi+ people.
According to MAP’s 2016 report on Bisexual people, Bi+ folks experience more erasure and invisibility than straight and homosexual peers. They are less likely to be “out.” Bi+ people in the MAP study, on average, reported poorer outcomes than those who are gay or lesbian. Of particular note, for example, is the very high rate of sexual violence experienced by bi+ girls and women. Bi+ community leaders point to bi+ erasure and harmful myths about bisexual people as contributing greatly to these poor outcomes.
To move forward, I urge accepting the many different labels that LGBTQIA+ individuals identify with regardless of how similar their definitions may sound. The purpose of these identities is, I believe, to create ever more possibilities for understanding ourselves and others. I urge community definitions and listening to those who identify with those terms. Let bisexual be defined by the bi+ community for our community!
Clark Hoelscher, Ph.D., they/them is an educator and community leader in St. Paul, Minnesota and a member of GLSEN’s Educator Advisory Committee.
Resources:
https://biresource.org/bisexuality-101/
https://www.glsen.org/supporting-bisexual-students
http://www.lgbtmap.org/invisible-majority-release
https://www.hrc.org/youth-report/supporting-and-caring-for-our-bisexual-youth#.VCWJTkt31g1
https://www.hrc.org/resources/resource-guide-to-coming-out-as-bisexual
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(Image Description: World Pride, June 26, 2019 in New York City at Barclays. Performance by Sara Ramirez and Sondra Woodruff. From left to right, the bi+ leaders and their accomplices on the stage were:
Monica Roberts, TransGriot and Black trans legend | Kylar W. Broadus Esq., Trans People of Color Coalition | Michón Neal, creator of the term: “noetisexual” | Ashton | P. Woods, Black Lives Matter: Houston | Ana Andrea Molina, Trans Latina icon, OLTT | Bamby Salcedo, TransLatina Coalition | Clark Hoelscher, GLSEN National Advisory Council | Ron Suresha, Bi Bear Icon | Juba Kalamka, St. James Infirmary | Mire Regulus, wife of Andrea Jenkins, artist/advocate | Andrea Jenkins, 1st Black trans city councilwoman and poet | Luigi Ferrer, Bi Latinx HIV educator | Alex-Quan Pham, Vietnamese trans activist | Chase Strangio, Trans Non-binary lawyer at ACLU | Faith Cheltenham, BiNet USA, co-founder of #biweek | Axel Keating, InterACT board member | Shakya Cherry Donaldson, Black SGLBTQIA+ accomplice | Carmen Neely, Harlem Pride President | Mohamed Q. Amin, Caribbean Equality Project | Felicia Teter, Yakama Nation | YahNé Baker, Black SGLBTQIA+ accomplice | Trish Bendix, Iconic Lesbian Writer | Mike Szymanski, Bisexual writer and activist | Lynnette McFadzen, Bisexual demisexual elder | Efrain Gonzalez, LGBT movement photographer | R.J. Aguilar, Bi Latinx internet icon)
I had the amazing honor of joining leaders from across the wide spectrum of gender and sexual orientation diversity of LGBTQIA+ people on stage in New York City with Sarah Ramirez this past June to kick-off the Stonewall 50th Anniversary and World Pride. Solidarity was the word for the night as the ever fantastic Billy Porter, Ciara, Todrick Hall, and Cyndi Lauper sang and danced their hearts out!
On the stage, as I looked to my right and left while singing Over the Rainbow, I saw leaders working with our community for equal rights and protections for LGBTQIA+ people. I heard about their efforts around housing, legal immigration status, safe working conditions, health care, and medical rights attending to the urgent needs of our Black, Brown, Asian, and Indigenous siblings.
My personal identities under the big umbrellas are bisexual and gender queer. These feel as right to me as my preference for dark chocolate or mint flavored ice cream. I acknowledge fully that they are connected to the entirety of who I am as a white person who grew up middle working class in Texas in the 1980s. Those identities have helped me understand myself, share about myself, and find myself ever more connected meaningfully to others.
At World Pride and in most other places, I am rarely in rooms full of people who share all of my personal and cultural identities, so mostly I’m showing up as an ally in solidarity with my siblings. And I am grateful for a really, really big gender and sexual orientation diversity umbrella because I want everyone to be able to huddle under and stay dry.
Up on the stage, under an enormous Philadelphia "More Color More Pride" flag, I concluded that the most fundamental thing I can do in my active allyship is to offer complete and radical acceptance of the identities chosen and shared with me by those around me. I am beyond 100% committed to this effort. I believe this practice alone is healing, transformative, and possibly even life saving.
Here’s how this looks for me in practice.
To summarize, words matter. They have power. The words we use to call and label ourselves are especially powerful as LGBTQIA+ people. Please, please join me in creating ever more inclusivity, connection, and joy!
Clark Hoelscher, Ph.D., they/them is an educator and community leader in St. Paul, Minnesota and a member of GLSEN’s Educator Advisory Committee. ]]>
(Image Description: World Pride, June 26, 2019 in New York City at Barclays. Performance by Sara Ramirez and Sondra Woodruff. From left to right, the bi+ leaders and their accomplices on the stage were:
Monica Roberts, TransGriot and Black trans legend | Kylar W. Broadus Esq., Trans People of Color Coalition | Michón Neal, creator of the term: “noetisexual” | Ashton | P. Woods, Black Lives Matter: Houston | Ana Andrea Molina, Trans Latina icon, OLTT | Bamby Salcedo, TransLatina Coalition | Clark Hoelscher, GLSEN National Advisory Council | Ron Suresha, Bi Bear Icon | Juba Kalamka, St. James Infirmary | Mire Regulus, wife of Andrea Jenkins, artist/advocate | Andrea Jenkins, 1st Black trans city councilwoman and poet | Luigi Ferrer, Bi Latinx HIV educator | Alex-Quan Pham, Vietnamese trans activist | Chase Strangio, Trans Non-binary lawyer at ACLU | Faith Cheltenham, BiNet USA, co-founder of #biweek | Axel Keating, InterACT board member | Shakya Cherry Donaldson, Black SGLBTQIA+ accomplice | Carmen Neely, Harlem Pride President | Mohamed Q. Amin, Caribbean Equality Project | Felicia Teter, Yakama Nation | YahNé Baker, Black SGLBTQIA+ accomplice | Trish Bendix, Iconic Lesbian Writer | Mike Szymanski, Bisexual writer and activist | Lynnette McFadzen, Bisexual demisexual elder | Efrain Gonzalez, LGBT movement photographer | R.J. Aguilar, Bi Latinx internet icon)
I had the amazing honor of joining leaders from across the wide spectrum of gender and sexual orientation diversity of LGBTQIA+ people on stage in New York City with Sarah Ramirez this past June to kick-off the Stonewall 50th Anniversary and World Pride. Solidarity was the word for the night as the ever fantastic Billy Porter, Ciara, Todrick Hall, and Cyndi Lauper sang and danced their hearts out!
On the stage, as I looked to my right and left while singing Over the Rainbow, I saw leaders working with our community for equal rights and protections for LGBTQIA+ people. I heard about their efforts around housing, legal immigration status, safe working conditions, health care, and medical rights attending to the urgent needs of our Black, Brown, Asian, and Indigenous siblings.
My personal identities under the big umbrellas are bisexual and gender queer. These feel as right to me as my preference for dark chocolate or mint flavored ice cream. I acknowledge fully that they are connected to the entirety of who I am as a white person who grew up middle working class in Texas in the 1980s. Those identities have helped me understand myself, share about myself, and find myself ever more connected meaningfully to others.
At World Pride and in most other places, I am rarely in rooms full of people who share all of my personal and cultural identities, so mostly I’m showing up as an ally in solidarity with my siblings. And I am grateful for a really, really big gender and sexual orientation diversity umbrella because I want everyone to be able to huddle under and stay dry.
Up on the stage, under an enormous Philadelphia "More Color More Pride" flag, I concluded that the most fundamental thing I can do in my active allyship is to offer complete and radical acceptance of the identities chosen and shared with me by those around me. I am beyond 100% committed to this effort. I believe this practice alone is healing, transformative, and possibly even life saving.
Here’s how this looks for me in practice.
New Friend: I identify as an intersex, gender fluid, dyke
Clark: Awesome! Fab! Thanks for sharing. Would you like to tell me more about what those identities mean to you? Is there anything I can offer to support you around those identities?
To summarize, words matter. They have power. The words we use to call and label ourselves are especially powerful as LGBTQIA+ people. Please, please join me in creating ever more inclusivity, connection, and joy!
Clark Hoelscher, Ph.D., they/them is an educator and community leader in St. Paul, Minnesota and a member of GLSEN’s Educator Advisory Committee. ]]>
**Trigger warnings: name-calling, bullying, transphobia, and homophobia
Hi, my name is Avery, I am 11 years old and I’d like to share my story with you about my experience in my school. A friend and classmate of mine who is a boy was being silly and joking about wearing a pink tutu somewhere. My teacher reacted quickly by talking to my class about how it is wrong to be transgender or gay. She said people like that are mentally ill and they don't know how sick they are. She said we need to pray for them. She also said it was like having depression, something that can change and should be fixed. I sat there at my desk thinking, did she really just say that? I tried to hold back my tears. After a bit, but what felt like forever, I got up to use the restroom. I felt like everyone was staring at me because I was starting to cry. Once I got there I locked myself in the stall and started crying. I repeatedly told myself there is nothing wrong with me. While I was in there I was trying to stay quiet so the people walking in and out wouldn't hear me. I finally got up to wash my face and my teacher pulled me aside. She said something like "Why are you so upset? You should already know how morally wrong it is to be trans or gay and that it will lead you to hell." I was so afraid and not sure what to say back to her. Right after that was our school’s talent show. I was already late, so I went to sit with the rest of my class. Everyone was asking where I was and why I looked so upset. I just told them all I didn't want to talk about it. As I sat there I watched my teacher and the principal whispering to each other as they glanced back at me, so I knew they were talking about me. That made me feel really uncomfortable. I wanted to leave school early, but I was too anxious and scared to speak to the teacher to ask to call my mom.
When my mom picked me up at the end of the day I burst into tears as soon as we left the parking lot. I was so upset and scared by the time I got home I was throwing up. I have never been that afraid in my life. That was the worst day I can remember. I was so scared I was going to hell and that I was a very bad person.
The next day we went to the Capitol building in Topeka for Equality Day. I got to meet Laura Kelly and hear about the non-discrimination executive order (which states that schools do not discriminate on the basis of race, color, ancestry, national origin, religion, sex, disability, age, veteran status, or any other legally protected classification) she signed and that started to make me feel a little better. I also got introduced to the GLSEN Kansas Chapter who ended up helping me get out of this very bad situation.
As soon as we got home, I realized I had school the next day and I started shaking and throwing up again. My mom also told me that she’d do whatever she could to make me feel safe. As soon as she said that I felt so much better and didn’t throw up anymore. I am lucky to have my mom who stayed by my side through the whole thing. My mom was able to sign a lease to a new house in the Wichita Public School district and enrolled me in a new school so I never have to step foot in that school again. I love my new school and teacher! I am so much happier now that I feel safe and welcomed being who I really am and not having to hide it. I feel lucky to have the support that many others don't have. I don't know what I would have done without them.
As I’m headed back to school, I want to tell other students that they deserve to hear that they are perfect the way they are. They deserve a parent or guardian who will advocate for them when they are told they are a monster for being who they are in schools. They deserve people like GLSEN Kansas to help. They deserve a soccer team like mine that showed up to support me while I spoke to the district. They deserve schools that advocate for their happiness, safety, and being welcomed for who they are. They deserve policies to be put in place to make sure that this doesn’t happen to other students like it happened to me
I hope sharing my story helps with all the kids who are unable to share theirs.
As GLSEN launches our back to school program to support educators across the country, we know we can’t do so without addressing some recent events and tragedies affecting us all. Our students, like us, bring the world with them into our classrooms. The mass shootings in El Paso, Texas, and Dayton, Ohio, two more in a seemingly continuous timeline of gun violence, along with the Mississippi ICE raids, are likely to be on the minds of your students and their families, your colleagues, and administrators. The task of creating a welcoming and inclusive environment for all students can feel more challenging than ever, but that only makes this work more all the more crucial. While integrated school communities can collect social anxiety, they can also be a tremendous force in working together to heal.
As educators and advocates, you can set some supports in motion to create a supportive and affirming back to school culture that addresses and acknowledges these recent events.
Meet with your administrators to see if there is consistent messaging around these issues from the school. Can a letter be sent to families, or will this be addressed at Back to School or Curriculum night?
As the school year begins and you check in with your students, let the administrators know if this is coming up consistently, and what effect it is having on learning. Consider if an assembly or specific hours for students to meet in groups to discuss what’s coming up for them would be useful.
Meet with your school’s health providers (i.e. social workers, counselors, physiologists, nurses, etc.) to find what resources and supports they can offer to your students.
Connect with your school’s GSA to ensure that LGBTQ youth of color and LGBTQ undocumented youth have a supportive space. Consider having a joint meeting with other clubs who focus on safety, diversity, or immigration.
Teach or share these lessons addressing gun violence in schools:
Read and share these tools for addressing ICE raids: AFT ImmigratioN Resources, Responding to the Mississippi ICE Raid by Teaching Tolerance and What Families and Educators Need to Know About ICE Raids. Review the resources and videos at UndocuQueer to see if you can use them to begin or continue these discussions with students.
Connect with other educators and outside organizations in your community addressing gun violence and immigration, and see if they have resources, events, or speakers that could be integrated into your school’s response.
Join GLSEN’s Educator Forum on Facebook to connect with a network of K-12 educators across the country who are focused on setting up inclusive and supportive classroom environments.
Remember that educators don't have to be experts in any of these areas in order to be an invaluable support to students and the school community. Providing opportunities to listen and taking even small actions can make a tremendous impact.
]]>I was in walking to my Sunday School class after church the morning of June 12, 2016. Still out in the hallway, my friend Jill tapped my shoulder and asked if I’d seen the news. “There was a shooting at a gay club in Orlando. Over a dozen have been killed.” During the next hour I watched outlet after outlet publish updates. Eventually that initial dozen became the forty-nine. We would learn that most of the victims were Latinx. We would learn most of them were young. We would learn their names; we would learn about their families of origin and their families of choice. And, for many LGBTQ Christians, we would learn that our pastors, thought-leaders, and fellow believers struggled to understand how their theology was linked to the massacre.
I attended four different vigils in Atlanta the week following the tragedy. Three of these were at churches. The largest of them somehow made it through the entire hour and a half service without once mentioning the homophobia, prejudice, and implicit biases that would lead to an act of targeted violence. The liturgy instead addressed gun violence and domestic terrorism. The bishop who preached the service made sure to mention how he had spent plenty of nights out in D.C. with gay friends at gay clubs because “even a straight guy like him can appreciate good music when he hears it” and went on to declare how their upstanding, “ancient and progressive” tradition has proudly supported and affirmed LGBTQ persons since 2004 to which end I couldn’t help but think, “then why are we still dying?”
What the bishop didn’t say was that what happened at Pulse was a most explicit and violent display of anti-LGBTQ ideology, and it was far from the only time or the only way our bodies have been harmed. What he didn’t say was that there is a clear link between non-affirming religious belief and emotionally and spiritually devastating practice. What he didn’t say was that one of the reasons LGBTQ people, both Christian and not, find themselves routinely at clubs for sanctuary is because of all the ways we’ve been marginalized and or held at an arms-length by conservative and neo-liberal faith communities alike.
Almost a year after Pulse, the LGBTQ Christian organization I work for partnered with a large, moderate to conservative Evangelical church in Orlando for a community dialogue event. The goals were to humanize various theological views on sexuality and gender, to model civil discourse, and to legitimize Christian disagreement on that matter, which is the first and farthest step many conservatives often take in positively shifting their beliefs. During the event, we screened Love the Sinner, directed by Jessica Devaney and Geeta Gandbhir. It is a film that uses a first-person approach to exploring the relationship between non-affirming beliefs and the violence the LGBTQ community faces in general.
I sat in the dark sanctuary preparing to moderate the conversation among three pastors and I wept silently. I wept for the 49 and their families. I wept for the tens of thousands of LGBTQ people still riding out the residual effects of being connected to a targeted hate crime. I wept for the compounding ways in which our ethnicities and genders regularly intensify our proximity to danger. I wept for all the queer friends and family I have who have endured and or still live in spiritually traumatizing spaces. I wept for all the Tyler’s, the Daniel’s, and the Dee’s who spent their lives among Christian communities that saw no harm in teaching their congregations to “love the sinner and hate the sin.” I wept for myself. I wept for all the years that I believed how I give and receive love to be irredeemably broken. I wept for the chasm between the intention of non-affirming belief and its systematically devastating impact. Love the Sinner, with precision and clarity, grounded for me the idea that the personal is political, is theological. What we believe God believes about anyone has tremendous bearing on their bodies and souls and if we, as people of faith, are not actively interrogating our belief systems, we are complicit. “Progressive” or not, despite what that bishop at the vigil I attended seemed to think, I do believe that the blood is on our hands and we must do something about it.
Whether you’re in a classroom teaching or learning, a Church leader or other community member, we have to recognize the connection between religious teaching (or silence) and the violence the LGBTQ community experiences. Whether you’re a person of faith or not, being able to point students of religious background toward affirming teachings within those traditions can save lives and create a safer, more inclusive society at large.
I’ve used these three points to ground me in talking to students:
all faith traditions are rooted in love
everyone deserves love and respect
as a community, regardless of spirituality, we have a responsibility to care for each other
For free streaming of the 15-minute documentary, Love the Sinner, and its educational resources, email educators@glsen.org.
-Myles.
Myles Markham is the Programs & Organizing Coordinator for The Reformation Project, a seminary student, and is based in Atlanta, Georgia.
]]>I was in walking to my Sunday School class after church the morning of June 12, 2016. Still out in the hallway, my friend Jill tapped my shoulder and asked if I’d seen the news. “There was a shooting at a gay club in Orlando. Over a dozen have been killed.” During the next hour I watched outlet after outlet publish updates. Eventually that initial dozen became the forty-nine. We would learn that most of the victims were Latinx. We would learn most of them were young. We would learn their names; we would learn about their families of origin and their families of choice. And, for many LGBTQ Christians, we would learn that our pastors, thought-leaders, and fellow believers struggled to understand how their theology was linked to the massacre.
I attended four different vigils in Atlanta the week following the tragedy. Three of these were at churches. The largest of them somehow made it through the entire hour and a half service without once mentioning the homophobia, prejudice, and implicit biases that would lead to an act of targeted violence. The liturgy instead addressed gun violence and domestic terrorism. The bishop who preached the service made sure to mention how he had spent plenty of nights out in D.C. with gay friends at gay clubs because “even a straight guy like him can appreciate good music when he hears it” and went on to declare how their upstanding, “ancient and progressive” tradition has proudly supported and affirmed LGBTQ persons since 2004 to which end I couldn’t help but think, “then why are we still dying?”
What the bishop didn’t say was that what happened at Pulse was a most explicit and violent display of anti-LGBTQ ideology, and it was far from the only time or the only way our bodies have been harmed. What he didn’t say was that there is a clear link between non-affirming religious belief and emotionally and spiritually devastating practice. What he didn’t say was that one of the reasons LGBTQ people, both Christian and not, find themselves routinely at clubs for sanctuary is because of all the ways we’ve been marginalized and or held at an arms-length by conservative and neo-liberal faith communities alike.
Almost a year after Pulse, the LGBTQ Christian organization I work for partnered with a large, moderate to conservative Evangelical church in Orlando for a community dialogue event. The goals were to humanize various theological views on sexuality and gender, to model civil discourse, and to legitimize Christian disagreement on that matter, which is the first and farthest step many conservatives often take in positively shifting their beliefs. During the event, we screened Love the Sinner, directed by Jessica Devaney and Geeta Gandbhir. It is a film that uses a first-person approach to exploring the relationship between non-affirming beliefs and the violence the LGBTQ community faces in general.
I sat in the dark sanctuary preparing to moderate the conversation among three pastors and I wept silently. I wept for the 49 and their families. I wept for the tens of thousands of LGBTQ people still riding out the residual effects of being connected to a targeted hate crime. I wept for the compounding ways in which our ethnicities and genders regularly intensify our proximity to danger. I wept for all the queer friends and family I have who have endured and or still live in spiritually traumatizing spaces. I wept for all the Tyler’s, the Daniel’s, and the Dee’s who spent their lives among Christian communities that saw no harm in teaching their congregations to “love the sinner and hate the sin.” I wept for myself. I wept for all the years that I believed how I give and receive love to be irredeemably broken. I wept for the chasm between the intention of non-affirming belief and its systematically devastating impact. Love the Sinner, with precision and clarity, grounded for me the idea that the personal is political, is theological. What we believe God believes about anyone has tremendous bearing on their bodies and souls and if we, as people of faith, are not actively interrogating our belief systems, we are complicit. “Progressive” or not, despite what that bishop at the vigil I attended seemed to think, I do believe that the blood is on our hands and we must do something about it.
Whether you’re in a classroom teaching or learning, a Church leader or other community member, we have to recognize the connection between religious teaching (or silence) and the violence the LGBTQ community experiences. Whether you’re a person of faith or not, being able to point students of religious background toward affirming teachings within those traditions can save lives and create a safer, more inclusive society at large.
I’ve used these three points to ground me in talking to students:
all faith traditions are rooted in love
everyone deserves love and respect
as a community, regardless of spirituality, we have a responsibility to care for each other
For free streaming of the 15-minute documentary, Love the Sinner, and its educational resources, email educators@glsen.org.
-Myles.
Myles Markham is the Programs & Organizing Coordinator for The Reformation Project, a seminary student, and is based in Atlanta, Georgia.
]]>Coming out isn’t an easy thing to do, especially to the medical clinic you’ve been going to all your life, or the health care center at your school. Even though I came out almost three years ago, I still get called by my birth name and misgendered. Over those past three years I have changed my name preference in my charts, verbally explained how I identify, and made sure my diagnosis and pronouns are clear in my chart.
For school-based social workers, counselors, and psychologists, or really any adult in school, using a student’s chosen pronouns is so beneficial. If you are unsure whether someone is female, male, or nonconforming, it is a lot better to politely ask what pronouns they identify with than assume and risk being incorrect. From personal experience, getting misgendered in front of others makes me want to disappear. It makes me feel like less of the human I am and more of a different person that I don’t identify with. This isn’t the same for everyone though, and I can’t be the voice for the whole trans community, but truly believe that being referred to in a way that makes you feel the most comfortable should be a basic human right. It may not be easy to use everyone’s correct pronouns, but it isn’t hard to try.
There was a doctor I saw at the time I came out as transgender, he was not the most accepting doctor I’ve come across. He told me that my transition was an obsession and told my mom the same. This didn’t help me whatsoever; it just belittled me and made me feel bad for trying to find myself. After seeing him a few different times, I realized that I needed to find a doctor who better suited my needs.
Recently, all of my healthcare providers have been exceeding my expectations. The providers I’ve most recently seen have been kind, accepting, and have been able to give me the care I need without making me uncomfortable. They are able to do this by using my pronouns and name, talking to me as if I am just a boy, being respectful, and building trust.
Even though I’ve recently had good providers, a medical assistant I’ve seen didn’t make me feel the best. They did their job and acted nice enough, but outside of the door referred to me as my birth name to others and misgendered me several times. It was very unprofessional and disrespectful to me and made me very distrustful of that person. Caregiving professionals should be more sensitive to others feelings, whether or not they are in the same room. They should be more aware that the patient may be able to hear them.
All the people who provide medical and mental health support should be educated on how to treat trans youth. They can go to www.glsen.org/trans to watch videos, read blogs, and find tools like GLSEN’s Pronoun Resource. Then they can begin to treat every patient with equality and respect.
-Student Blogger, Age 16, Eugene, Oregon
Find more information on School-Based Mental Health Providers in our latest report, “Supporting Safe and Healthy Schools for LGBTQ Students.”
]]>Poetry to me is the freedom of expression, snapshots of experiences, and a boost of encouragement.
When the verbal use of words didn’t work for me, I found my passion for writing to tell my stories. It didn’t matter if it was excitement, bitterness, or pain because storytelling through poetry, and even poetic performances brought light for others to better understand me. They also helped me to better understand my own self.
The most beautiful thing about poetry is that anyone can utilize it. Whether you are physically writing on paper or vocalizing, no one is doing it wrong. I find myself striving for in the area of art. To articulate one's emotions better, creative writing is a tool and a gift to share with others; a tool that can unite young folks, adults, and communities. The power of words and wisdom that come from each other cannot go unheard. You cannot silence one’s gift of art, as it is the arts that speaks the loudest, because of the demonstrated ability to allow an audience to feel and empathize with someone else, that perhaps one couldn’t before.
Back then, I would’ve said I found myself, but I didn’t. I just began to expose myself and being able to explore my own identities is then when I found my passion for poetry.
Many people find it shocking when I tell them I love to read and write poetry, but I tend to hate reading most books. It is poetry that grabs my eyes, because poetry is rather different from most texts because it allows self-reflection and freedom to gather and intake from the work written by the author. There is usually not a direct guide, but leeway for interpretation, unlike many novels, and other styles of reading.
Poetry does not have to look only one way. In fact, my poetry started from a couple words to a couple lines, to a couple bars. As an author, a poet, and musician, I know that poetry is for everyone, and can be used to highlight and amplify the voices of folks that can’t find their outlet. Poetry has how I feel in my true element when I am reading and writing--something I incorporate into my daily routine. It allows us to connect with others and our own inner self. This is it, make writing affirmative.
For those who are able- try to write something every day, even if it is something short and sweet.
Next time you find yourself waiting between school and sports practice, or while you have some downtime during lunch - try writing for a bit. Instead of going on social media, take out a pen and start writing for a couple of minutes, or pull up notes on your phone if that is accessible. A good way to ground yourself and take a breather is to describe everything in your surroundings (e.g What can you See? Hear? Touch? Taste? Smell?)
One could have lines of poetry, and the other could have half-complete thoughts, my advice to both authors: Don’t stop writing. Beautiful words are often released when there are no set of rules, when you find your own rhythm, and especially when you think you have the least to say or write. In spaces like classrooms, or study halls this is a good tool and way to utilize what’s enjoyable to do some creative thinking and reflection. Whether it’s a coping skill, or a breather, this helps me decompress from my stressors in my environment. Grounding yourself by writing is always peaceful.
]]>
I listened… the sound slowly crept into my ear, triggered my reaction, and confusion started to consume my mind. “What’s your name?” the teacher questioned. My heart raced as I tried to search the blankness of my memories and whispered, “My name is Sovandarid Prom.” I was ten when my family and I immigrated from Cambodia – an underprivileged country in Southeast Asia – to the United States with dreams of new life and fresh opportunities. Upon arriving, I met a society that was rooted in more racial bias than I was prepared to confront.
In America today, immigrants are constantly detained and deprived of their basic rights. We live in a society where people’s survival and existence is criminalized. The criminalization of immigrants in this country has contributed to a surge in anti-immigrant views and bias. Over the past several years, I have been constantly reminded through the eyes of the government and the media that I am not welcomed here; that I need to go back to my country, and that even if I learned English, I will never be accepted. This type of bias and hostility towards immigrants in our society has filtered down into our school systems resulting in greater discipline for immigrant students, an increase in dropout rates and incarceration, and lower educational outcomes. The issue of immigrant rights are sewed into the fabric of this country and we can’t turn a blind eye to this issue any longer.
As a queer immigrant coming from a traditional Asian family, home was never a place for me to fully express my queer identity. As a child, I thought school would provide some of the safety and freedom that I did not have at home, but I later found out that wasn’t the case. In school, I listened to classmates make dehumanizing comments about immigrants and queer folks far too often. Xenophobia and queerphobia were ingrained into the minds of these students as they joked about invasions, crimes, deportation, trans identity, and so much more. The nastiness of comments from my peers about immigrants and queer people catapulted me into an isolating darkness of self-doubt and self-hatred, yet educators did little to nothing to aid the struggles of students like myself who held these multiple marginalized identities.
Racial and queer biases in our society have been integrated into the environment of many schools across the country, as it normalizes the aggression in which young people interact with their peers from different countries and cultures. According to the GLSEN 2017 National School Climate, 87% of LGBTQ students experienced harassment and assault based on their personal characteristics, including their race and ethnicity. We need to realize that our society will improve only when we breakdown the boundaries that are stacked among people of different races in schools. Boundaries create rejections that lead to the lack of opportunities for the growth of relationships and diversity. Let’s build relationships and solidarity, NOT walls and boundaries within our schools!
One of the best ways to support queer immigrant students is to build a more relationship-centered school; meaning, educators must promote a sense of belonging and diversity in classrooms. Fostering an environment of connectedness plays a huge role in students feeling respected, accepted, and supported by teachers and peers. Simple practices such as identity activities can dismantle individuals’ feelings of isolation and helps build conversations about commonalities in classrooms. GLSEN’s Identity Flowers are a great tool in increasing familiarity with differences; which ultimately, can alter perspectives, facilitate acceptance and diminish the misconceptions and prejudices that fuel discrimination.
In addition, by simply creating policies that enable students to properly address students of a different identity, we can tackle issues like name calling. Having a proper layout of what words are okay to use will allow for a more efficient and inclusive learning space. By doing so, it will provide the appropriate outlets to encourage students’ voices and action in celebrating diversity. Immigrant students deserve to feel a sense of safety and community in school, and GLSEN’s resource for anti-slur policy can be the first step in helping to make this a reality.
Together, our differences can make a strong and beautiful community. Even in the face of intolerance, discrimination, and violence, we must not forget to spread the words about the importance of inclusion and diversity and to respond to hatred with love and a celebration of our differences.
Darid is a member of GLSEN's National Student Council.
]]>For No Name-Calling Week 2019, we encouraged students and educators across the country to create artwork using the theme of #KindessInAction in K-12 schools, because artwork has the power to change school climates for the better.
How does this submission show #KindnessInAction in schools? This drawing shows love for all.
How does this submission show #KindnessInAction in schools? Our submission is a compelling series of Posters, which are a call-to-action and awareness building on behalf of No Name-Calling Week. It highlights the school's support of the initiative and showcases the school's various activities throughout the week.
How does this submission show #KindnessInAction in schools? My submission shows the support of women and human rights as a whole. We are all individuals of power and sacrifice. We are the future and the strongest people in the world.
Jessica Chiriboga - 2018-2019 National Student Council Member
Love. Love. Love. Love must be the thud that drives LGBTQIA+ asylum seekers with each step forward.
While my newsfeed’s coverage of the migrant caravan has largely featured reports of gross xenophobia and rhetoric, November 17 brought a heart-warming, yet sobering story to light. In the city of Tijuana, Mexico, just two hours from my hometown, seven LGBTQIA+ couples who journeyed miles upon miles from Central America for the mere right to love freely were wed. This mass-wedding was beautiful, a hopeful juxtaposition in the wake of bigotry.
Yet the wave of pride and joy that swelled up inside my chest was soon replaced with a deep irrevocable sense of grief. The grief that engulfed me stemmed from the bleak reality that so many LGBTQIA+ people face around the world. These seven couples do not only face some of the highest levels of violence, extortion, poverty, corruption, drug trafficking, and gang violence, but also must contend with rampant homophobia, transphobia, and biphobia that seeks to erase their identities.
It’s altogether disconcerting, and even that word disconcerting is an understatement. People across this world fight for their mere right to live, their mere right to exist. As much as I have fallen in love with the earth, this is a moment where my heart runs over with disgust. As a student in a progressive southern California school, it seems unfathomable to me that a transgender student wouldn’t be allowed to use the restroom of their choosing. But yet, I am aware that in other states and other countries this is, unfortunately, a daily reality.
73 of the countries in our world criminalize homosexuality; in eight of these countries, homosexuality is punishable by death.
Since the 1979 Iranian Revolution, 5,000 LGBTQIA+ persons have been executed in Iran.
In 2017, the brutal abduction and torturing of around 100 male residents in Chechnya (Russia) because of their perceived sexual orientation came to light.
In 2018, conversion therapy in unlicensed clinics, where victims were subject to atrocities ranging from rape to beatings, were exposed across Ecuador.
It’s important to note that because I am primarily exposed to American media, these stories were not ‘uncovered’ by Western media for several months and years, even with the cries of local activists and coverage by local organizations/media.
This reality rips my heart out. It grips my beating organ in its iron-clad hands and refuses to release its grasp. It is an all too familiar reminder that I have so much more work to do in my own activism.
In the bubble of my Southern California school, I’ve witnessed a great deal of ignorance, intended or unintended, displayed by my fellow out LGBTQIA+ peers.
Why does it matter that I learn about our history? Why does LGBTQIA+ activism matter if we can marry already? Why does it matter, students in California can already use the restroom of their choosing? Why does it matter what the world faces?
As silly as it sounds, I hear these questions all too often. These questions are rooted in a lack of LGBTQIA+ historical education, the privilege of wealth, a liberal locale, greater access to certain opportunities, and of being out and having a voice but not using it.
People often refuse to involve themselves in politics and activism when the issues don’t affect them directly. For some in my area, the ‘liberal’ bubble and the legalization of gay marriage is the end of the journey. Sure, they are not completely immune to discrimination, but the likelihood of damage done is insignificant enough that they can still educate or fight for others.
What I hope to communicate is that even when issues don’t directly affect us, we need to recognize our role in this community. This community is a beautiful one, drawn together by struggle and a common goal. It’s a community that has relied on coming together in trying times, regardless of sexual orientation and gender identity, to achieve equality for all members of the community.
Unity has been lost over the last few years in my particular area, perhaps because the urgency is no longer there. Perhaps because my generation is unaware of what it was like to exist merely a decade ago.
Like with all things, we call all do our part to help remedy this lack of awareness…
Research the state of LGBTQIA+ rights in your state, country, and the world.
How does your area differ from others?
Recognize the needs of your community.
Is there a particular sexual orientation or gender identity at your school or in your community that seems to be facing stigma and discrimination?
Reflect on the issue.
What seems to be rooted in this discrimination? (i.e. misogyny, cultural values, etc.)
Respond to this issue.
Holding an educational meeting with your GSA and then come up with a plan of action to address the issue (i.e. educating staff on use of pronouns)
Create posters to educate school campus
Hold a protest or talk on your school campus
Make an announcement, video, or story in the newspaper to appear on campus to spread the word about your issue
Meet with administration, school board, or non-profit to coordinate your efforts
I hope the migrant caravan and their beautiful story of marriage is a reminder that our siblings spread across the earth. We all stand together, country by country, state by state, town by town. Over miles of countryside and ocean, from the depths of the sea to the highest peak, we are united by love, whether that be a love for justice, for a partner, or for our community.
We must not forget our siblings. We must not forget to educate ourselves to advance our activism. We must not forget all the work we still have to do. We must not forget our goal.
Love must be the single unifier that brings us together in search of a safer, more beautiful earth. Love must be the answer.
Jessica is a member of GLSEN's National Student Council
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Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Breathe. Racket up. Extend through the serve. Follow through.
I repeat those words in my head like a mantra as sweat rolls down my forehead. It’s a hot summer morning in 2017, the type of day where the sun beats down incessantly on the green and blue court. Days like this always make me jokingly reconsider why I’m out on the court, why I’m running after a small green ball with a netted circle on a stick.
My coach snaps me out of my inner monologue, asking me what corner of the box I decided to aim at. It provides direction, he says, to have a position or corner in mind before I start my backswing.
“Down the service line”, I answer. That’s a lie. But certainly not as big of a lie that I felt I lived everyday.
You see, often on those summer days we spoke of social issues and general news, freely and uninhibited, unleashing our opinions, our disappointments, and our hopes. I was always quite comfortable speaking with my coach due to his open mind and good heart, but whenever our discussions approached my community, my mouth shut close.
“The LGBTQIA+ community,” he would start, “is facing ... and it’s a disgrace that they have to face that everyday”. “Yes”, I’d respond, “I wish that community didn’t have to face that. It’s unfortunate.”
During that summer, never once did I refer to that community in the first person. My community remained in the shadows of third person, an entity removed from our dialogue because of my fear and deep sense of shame.
There was always uncertainty then around disclosing a part of me. Actually, that’s not completely true. When meeting new people I was unabashedly clear about my identity. If they didn’t agree with who I am then they just left or didn’t pursue a friendship. Fine with me, I thought, spares me the effort.
It was the people I deeply cared about, the people I truly loved and respected, that I had hesitancy around. It was my coach, the man who has helped me through so much, that I feared would judge me (even though deep down a seed of hope knew he wouldn’t).
Yet, for me, and so many LGBTQIA+ students, that fear of rejection lingers and stings, regardless of how supportive that person may or may not be. This exists because for me and so many of my sisters in the sports community, there is a warranted fear of homophobia, but beyond that sexism, racism, transphobia, ableism, xenophobia, and islamophobia. We fear being cast out by our teammates, belittled by our coaches, kicked off our sports teams, and not being seen the same way. As athletes who truly love and value the game, this scares us more than anything. Our lives are so intertwined with the game, the match, and the journey, that anything that could jeopardize that frightens us.
During the summer of 2018, I missed a Saturday pre-season practice for L.A. Pride. I told my coach, and he asked some questions and compared it to how he remembered it years ago. Even then, I doubted myself. Did he know I was gay? What if I was just an ally supporting the community? Did he care? Would this change everything?
Our next private lesson rolled around, and he told me about a new documentary he had watched, Alone in the Game, about LGBTQ athletes in the professional, collegiate, and Olympic levels.
My heart swelled in that moment. I knew he knew. But instead of dread, I felt nothing but welcome. I felt nothing but supported.
Thank you coach, thank you. You’ll never know how much that day meant to me. You’ll never know how much each email with the latest LGBTQIA+ news means to me. You’ll never know how much you mean to me Coach.
For more resources, check out…
GLSEN’s Sports Project, Changing the Game
GLSEN Massachusetts’ Sample Sports Presentation
And GLSEN’s research brief on The Experiences of LGBT Students in School Athletics
Jessica is a part of GLSEN's 2018-2019 National Student Council.
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School-based mental health providers – counselors, psychologists, and social workers – can often be some of the first adults that young people connect with regarding their LGBTQ identity. In fact, in the 2017 National School Climate Survey over half of LGBTQ students reported that they would feel most comfortable talking with school based mental health professionals about LGBTQ issues. Unfortunately, a recent study shows that 76% of school mental health professionals received little to no preparation on working with LGBTQ youth (Supporting Safe and Healthy Schools). These providers can adopt some of the following best practices to best serve their students:
Advocate with other teachers and administrators
LGBTQ students need to know that there is at least one adult who is supportive of them. This is, very importantly, a “show don’t tell” version of allyship. What this means is that it is not enough to simply say we are supportive of LGBTQ students, we need to show it through our actions. I recognize that because of different environments, locations, and administrations, we as mental health counselors might not have as much of a voice in our school system to be able to do some of these more public actions. However, take a look at this list and see if there are a few that you might be able to do, or alter to be able to fit within the bounds of your particular school. Here are several suggestions of public actions that you can take to show your support of the community.
a. Have pronoun buttons available in an obvious location in your office. Also, wear your own pronoun button if you’d like!
b. Display LGBTQ-affirming materials and signs while you work with youth. This can be done with books, safe space stickers, or posters to promote an inclusive space, or with notebooks or lanyards if you travel between spaces or schools.
c. Advocate for time and/or funding for your school to be able to have a GSA (Gender & Sexuality Alliance or Gay-Straight Alliance) group.
d. If a teacher or administrator is using bigoted language (whether in front of students or not), respectfully but firmly let them know that the language they are using is inappropriate.
e. If an adult or student in the school is using the wrong name or pronouns of a transgender student who is out publicly, correct them. Don’t make a big deal of it, as that can draw uncomfortable attention to the student. Instead, simply say the correct name or pronoun and then let the person continue speaking.
f. Find out from your school regarding their policies regarding bathroom use, and advocate strongly that your students can use the bathroom that matches their identity, or at the very least, for them to be able to use the gender-neutral staff bathroom. Refer to and share GLSEN’s Trans Model Policy for support.
Explore LGBTQ-Community Resources
Take some time to do research in your own area regarding therapists and clinics that are LGBTQ-friendly, and compile a list of referrals for students who are looking for therapy outside of school. Granted, depending on where you are, those resources may be slim, but there are multiple vetted online support groups as well as national helplines for young people to be able to get support outside of school.
This need for referrals holds particularly true if you only have time to meet with students infrequently, or for short periods of time. Forgive yourself if you can’t be “The Person” that this student goes to for support regarding their LGBTQ identity. There are so many hats that a school mental health provider has to wear, and it is an honorable thing to recognize your limits. You can still have a positive impact, even if your primary role is connecting that student to an outside provider and being a safe space in the school environment for the time that you are able to give them.
Be transparent with your students about what you can (or cannot) hold confidential
It is crucial when working with LGBTQ youth that we are forthcoming regarding what our obligations are regarding confidentiality. Every school is different regarding what is expected of their counselors in regard to sharing what a student has shared, be it with teachers, interns, administrators, or the student’s family members. In addition, it is important to be aware of how note-taking may happen after you see a student and of who might have legal access to those notes.
Personally, unless safety is a concern in any way, I believe thoroughly that it is our ethical duty as counselors not to share any information about a student’s sexual orientation, gender identity, or curiosity and exploration of gender expression, unless the student is ready to come out and wants some help with having those conversations. It is so important for young people to have a safe space, and have access to adults who value their privacy and respect their need to take their time with self-discovery. Remember that public school students have a right to privacy. If this confidentiality is not possible due to the particular expectations in your school, you need to make that clear to any student who might want to share personal information with you regarding anything along the LGBTQ spectrum.
As LGBTQ youth are more likely to experience mental health concerns regarding suicide (YRBS 2017, Trevor Project), be very transparent with your students that you will have to break confidentiality if you are concerned about their safety either due to potential self-harm or harm from someone else. Depending on the situation, even with this necessary break of confidentiality, you may be able to keep the person’s LGBTQ identity out of the conversation if the student wants to keep that part of their identity private for the time being.
Follow their lead with their coming out path
When we’re working in a school setting, we often have dual relationships with students. We see them privately in our offices, but we may also interact with them in other settings, such as in a group session, in mediation, in an Individualized Education Program (IEP) meeting, or even in classrooms. This can make it feel tricky to know how to keep confidentiality for a client while also respecting what they may have shared with you about their identity.
For example, let’s say a student comes out to you as being a transgender girl. Ask her how she would like for you to address her in public settings. It’s possible that she may, for now, ask you to continue to use her legal name or “deadname” and he/him pronouns in public, as she does not yet want others to know. You are not being disrespectful to then follow her wishes. When you are meeting with her alone, use her chosen name and her female pronouns. Furthermore, offer to help her facilitate conversations with her parents and/or the administration should she decide she is ready to come out publicly. Share GLSEN’s Coming Out Guide to help the student consider different aspects of this ongoing process.
There are myriad factors that play into a young person’s decision to come out or not, and potentially a student may feel that due to their individual circumstances it may not be safe for them to be out. All you can do is hold space for them, and allow them to safely explore their thoughts and feelings about their gender or sexual identity with you, without the pressure of feeling obligated to have to take everything to the next step of coming out.
Remember that we will never be experts
One of the most important things I’ve learned as a therapist is that the moment we think we are an expert in something is the moment that we stop learning. Regardless of whether we may have decades of experience as a counselor, or if we are out and proud regarding our own gender identity and sexual orientation (I myself am as queer as a tea cozy!), that does not make us experts on a particular student’s experience. We have to do our own continuing education (on our own) to learn how the language is changing, and we have to do it enthusiastically. We have to allow our students to correct us, and not become defensive if we have made assumptions that are challenged.
More than anything, we have to hold an open, honest space where we allow each individual student to teach us about their specific experience. Just because I have worked with countless queer and trans teenagers does not mean that I automatically understand every emotion, hardship, or desire of a person walking through my door. What makes someone truly a professional is confidence in the acceptance of being wrong, and a genuine willingness to learn. You are here, reading this, which means that you already are on a solid path toward being the person that an LGBTQ student may need. In fact, you probably already are.
Kit McCann, LMFT, she/her, is a queer/gender therapist in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
]]>On January 25, 2019, for the first time, the CDC released data on health behaviors and experiences of transgender youth from the Youth Risk Behavior Surveillance System (YRBSS). Data collected by 19 CDC-funded sites (10 states, 9 large urban school districts) included a single-item question to measure the proportion of high-school youth who identify as transgender in the 2017 Youth Risk Behavior Survey (YRBS). Population-based data (including YRBS) are critical to address disparities that exist between transgender and cisgender youth.
Knowing which questions to ask and how to ask them in order to get high-quality data can be a challenging task. That is why we have been working to try and get it right – developing, testing, and piloting questions. We work closely with partner organizations and research colleagues to identify the most accurate and effective ways to accurately represent in surveys students who identify as transgender. A variety of governmental and non-governmental partners, including GLSEN and CDC, have been working to share data and find the most effective way forward.
Data from the 2017 state and local YRBS indicate that transgender students are more likely to experience violence victimization, substance use, suicide risk, and sexual risk, and would benefit from increased support. This spring, 22 states and large urban school districts will assess transgender identity for the next cycle of YRBS data. In addition to increasing surveillance, programmatic efforts to create safer learning environments and ensure access to culturally competent care are important steps to improving the health of the nation’s transgender youth.
Joseph G. Kosciw, PhD, GLSEN’s Chief Research & Strategy Officer; Michelle M. Johns, MPH, PhD, Health Scientist, Research Application and Evaluation Branch, CDC’s Division of Adolescent School Health (DASH); J. Michael Underwood, PhD, Chief, School-Based Surveillance Branch, CDC’s Division of Adolescent School Health (DASH)
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Before I socially transitioned as Gender Non-Conforming (GNC), my transness held little consideration in my advocacy work. I made parts of myself invisible out of self-hate. I grew up Black, queer, and transgender in the South. In my town, hate and underrepresentation of my sexuality and gender expression caused me to avoid parts of myself. As a trans educator, I have experienced isolation to its fullest extent. From this, I am imbued with a sense of responsibility to center dialogue in my school community on queer and trans experiences that have remained hidden because of social stigma and hatred.
My experience as a GNC or trans educator is one of constant discrimination in schools. Trans and GNC educators are often treated with skepticism, made invisible in curriculum and instruction, given little to no space for programming or extracurricular engagements, and pushed out of school communities because of discrimination from faculty or the student body. Based on my experiences, when schools attempt to include transgender identities in curricula, we are often tokenized and these methods are inconsistently reinforced. These issues are deeply-rooted, intentional, and institutionalized. They are also microcosms of the larger social stigma of transgender identities in American society.
Too often, the focus of discussion around transgender and GNC discrimination in schools is the use of pronouns and gender inclusive restrooms. This limited focus does not consider the holistic impact of transgender identities in and beyond the school environment. In my experience, so many individuals in schools focus on how to appropriately pronounce my honorific, “Mx.,” or feel the need to announce that they are “getting used to my pronouns.” These comments, devoid of intention, signify that people assume that my desire for inclusivity can be achieved through their correct pronunciation of my honorific. I also have a desire for more support from school leaders around my ability to self-define.
Rather than “getting used to” trans and GNC individuals, support them authentically. Ask them if they feel safe in your community. Ask them if community members are displaying attitudes of acceptance. While bathroom use and pronouns are important issues, recognizing one’s existence and validating their belonging sends a powerful message about that transgender person’s right to fully access the school space. Transgender individuals are humans. We are not single stance issues to choose a side on in political discourse or an uncomfortable object around which you must wrap your mind. For those who are willing to recognize the fullness of transgender and GNC community members’ humanity in a school environment, I would suggest that you all attempt some of these steps:
Try watching videos and reading blogs at www.glsen.org/trans.
Find GSA resources at glsen.org/gsa.
Check out GLSEN’s LGBTQ history resources and Unheard Voices curriculum.
Learn more with GLSEN’s Gender Terminology Visual and Pronoun Resource.
Consistent efforts toward transgender inclusion are challenging and should be treated with diligence. Remember, your school is working with a human population and not with objects of fascination. All humans deserve adequate attention and validation. Indifference toward or ignorance of the discrimination against transgender lives bolsters the power of hate and perpetuates the current system. We need all individuals to be stakeholders in our liberation.
In Solidarity,
Mx. Marvin D. Shelton Jr., M.S.Ed., Middle School English Teacher, Riverdale Country School, Pronouns: They, Them, Their
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In preparation for GLSEN's No Name-Calling Week, we asked GLSEN's National Student Council to tell us the labels and identities that they hold and want to be called. Self-identification can be empowering, and it can be hurtful when people use labels that don't match the ones we choose ourselves.
These students are making a statement against name-calling and bullying by encouraging people not to use slurs or stereotypes, but to call their peers by the names that they identify with and give others permission to use.
Want to share how you identify? You can put #KindnessInAction and join the conversation by posting your own sign with the names YOU want to be called. Make sure to use #KindnessInAction and tag @glsen on Twitter and Instagram!
To get involved with No Name-Calling Week, and to get free streaming of LGBTQ-inclusive classroom documentaries, register here!
Make your own sign and be sure to register for No Name-Calling Week!
]]>I have been a secondary science educator for fourteen years. I have loved teaching science – piquing students’ interest in the world and in scientific possibilities, and encouraging them to pursue science careers. After all, science solves the world’s problems. I was named ESL Teacher of the Year, twice nominated for my campus’ Teacher of the Year, and held numerous leadership positions at multiple campuses in multiple districts. In spite of this, anti-LGBTQ discrimination has led me to resign, ending my teaching career mid-contract.
In the fall of 2017, shortly after school started, I was approached by a student and asked to sponsor a GSA. I was ecstatic at the opportunity. My two sisters and I identify as LGBTQ and we have religious parents who learned to love and accept us. As an out educator of 11 years, married to my wife for 9 years, and mother to 3, I was excited to offer a safe space for students to feel open to express their true selves.
In late February, however, I was called to the office of an administrator on my campus and was asked about a conversation that had occurred in my classroom. During a genetics lesson I overheard a gay slur. Anyone who has spent any amount of time around teenagers is familiar with the rampant use of negative LGBTQ terminology - in 2015, 92% of Texas students reported hearing “that’s so gay” in the classroom and 86% reported hearing other homophobic remarks (GLSEN 2015 Texas State Snapshot). In this instance, as always, I intervened to challenge the conversation with my typical, “not appropriate” and “it is offensive.” I believe it’s our role as educators to tell students that anti-LGBTQ comments should offend anyone; homophobic or transphobic comments, along with racist, sexist, ableist comments and any comments targeting a marginalized group of people, should have no place in our institutions, as they keep our classrooms from being safe and welcoming for all students.
The administrators informed me that the brief conversation I had with students was not an acceptable use of academic time and that I should focus on teaching the TEKS, Texas’s guiding K-12 subject required curriculum. I was the campus GSA sponsor; if I did not correct this type of language, who would? I highlighted the worrisome statistics from LGBTQ students - nearly 9 in 10 were harassed or assaulted at school (GLSEN 2015). All adults in schools should know that ignoring comments like the ones I heard only encourages the anti-LGBTQ behavior and can increase the isolation felt by so many. Unfortunately, however, school officials did not agree and I was formally reprimanded. A letter was entered into my personal file and it was expected that I not get in “an extended dialogue about those things” and “that these conversations not be allowed in [the] classroom”. Reprimand letters become part of a teacher’s employment record, can be used as documentation to support a firing, and travels with the teacher, even to other schools or other districts.
Although I was a teacher in a suburb of the fourth largest city in the United States – one whose most recent mayor was openly gay— and, most recently working in the third largest school district in Texas, the anti-LGBTQ climate left its mark on me. Texas is one of 34 states that does not prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation, gender identity or expression in public schools. Beyond that, Texas is one of the seven states with “No Promo Homo” laws that are designed to restrict instruction and limit school expressions of support for LGBTQ people or issues. The law in the Health and Safety Code, Sec. 85.007. requires that teaching materials “state…homosexual conduct is not an acceptable lifestyle and is a criminal offense” (now deemed unconstitutional by the ruling in Lawrence v. Texas).
Although my last school district has a stated policy to protect for LGBTQ students – including “offensive jokes, name-calling, slurs,” the reality is that educators are expected to remain quiet about LGBTQ issues. If the current administration continues to be welcoming towards divisive, derogatory commentary, if the Department of Education refuses to protect all students, if school districts refuse to follow through with written policy, it is the students who will suffer.
The research concludes that “No Promo Homo” states like Texas can create more hostile school environments – with less LGBTQ resources or supportive educators. Our role as educators is to guide and protect students to become productive members of society; we do this for all students, not just those like ourselves - especially the most vulnerable.
Administrators in any state need to be supporting their faculty in creating learning environments where all students can succeed. That’s why GLSEN created this guide for Administrators and School Leaders. It is time for school boards, school administrators, and all educators to fully embrace LGBTQ students and staff, not just as policy – but to really fight for their rights to feel welcome, safe, and protected.
Shannon Flores, Educator and GSA Advisor, TX
]]>If you work in a school, it is vital that you provide an affirming and supportive environment for the LGBTQ youth who attend your school. Your LGBTQ students experience unique vulnerabilities and risks that their peers do not. According to a recent report by Chapin Hall at The University of Chicago, Missed Opportunities: LGBTQ Youth Homelessness in America, LGBTQ youth aged 18-25 are more than two times at increased risk of experiencing homelessness than compared to non-LGBTQ youth. The report also found that LGBTQ youth experience much higher rates of assault while being homeless than non-LGBTQ youth as well.
Due to the realities of homelessness and the limited access to affirming youth services, these youth need extra support. The risk does not stop after high school either. LGBTQ youth are at high risk of not finishing high school and that will put them at high risk of homelessness after high school— 34% of LGBTQ youth have less than a high school diploma, compared to 11% of the general population (Chapin Hall). An earlier report by Chapin Hall, Missed Opportunities: Youth Homelessness in America, showed that youth with less than a high school diploma or GED were more than four times (346%) at increased risk of being homeless than compared to youth who completed high school.
You can help support the LGBTQ students who are experiencing homelessness or are at risk of homelessness in your school so that they feel affirmed in your community and have an adult ally. Here are some ways you can support your students.
1. Trans and Gender Nonconforming (TGNC) youth may not be able to afford the items, treatments or legal services needed to present as the gender they identify as. This should not stop school staff from affirming their gender and allowing them to use facilities or participate in events that affirm their gender identity. Allow youth to self-identify, express themselves how they choose, and allow for that to change and evolve on their personal timeline.
2. Survival sex unfortunately is a real reality for some youth experiencing homelessness, in order to survive and get their needs met. 27% of LGBTQ and especially TGNC youth have traded sex for money, food, places to stay, compared to 9% of non-LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness (Chapin Hall). If you are supporting a student who has engaged in survival sex, use a harm reduction approach. They are getting a need met to survive, do not shame or blame them. Listen to them and help them connect to resources for food, shelter, gender affirming medical care/clothing or what else they need. If you meet them with shame, blame or punishment; they will still need to survive and they will not find the school environment safe for them anymore.
3. Students may have a hard time focusing in class, check in with them and ask them when the last time they ate or had water was. If they are showing up they want to be there, support them in being able to be present.
4. Like number 3, check in to see if they have slept the night before. As we all know this will definitely affect someone’s mood and attention. If a student falls asleep in class, do not jump right to consequences. Instead, have a conversation with them, ask them how you or the school could create a plan to support their ability to learn.
5. LGBTQ youth who experience high rejection from their families are more than 3 times as likely to use illegal drugs, compared to LGBTQ youth who experience little to no rejection by their families (Family Acceptance Project). This risk is something school staff deal with across all student identities but when it comes to youth experiencing homelessness it is important to have an understanding as to why this group uses more substances, and may be using them to cope with trauma and the stress of homelessness. Of course, keep your space safe for all students but it is proven to have better results and less dropout rates if the approach is harm reduction and is supportive instead of just punitive.
6. Hygiene can be an issue with homeless youth. This is due to a few factors; they may not have access to a change of clothes/laundry, or they may need support on life skills. They may not be showering as a response to trauma or they may be experiencing symptoms of depression, anxiety, psychosis or other serious mental health issues. These factors may cause the youth to be bullied in school so be aware of how they are interacting with their peers, and how it affects their mental health. School staff can support them by providing them with toiletries, and clean clothes or resources for those items. Assisting them with extra access to locker room showers is also very useful and will help them feel like themselves. Connect students to the school social worker if it becomes an ongoing issue to explore with the student where the behavior is coming from.
7. Homelessness is chaotic. This makes it really difficult for youth to be able to show up on time and regularly to school, work, or appointments. LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness have limited to no access to public transportation or cars, especially in suburban or rural areas. Work with students on making up assignments and assistance with travel.
8. The traumas of homelessness, family rejection and abuse can make people feel hopeless. It is a horrible reality that LGBTQ youth who experience high levels of rejection from their families are more than 8 times as likely to have attempted suicide than compared to LGBTQ youth who experience little to no rejection by their families (Family Acceptance Project). It is so vital that youth are connected to the school social worker or counselor and has school staff that they trust and affirm them. Make sure your staff are trained on how to assess for suicide. When youth are affirmed for who they are and have their basic needs met that risk is greatly diminished.
9. LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness have experienced immense amounts of trauma. Violence and homelessness is interconnected. Violence makes people at risk for homelessness, and homelessness makes people at risk for violence. You can support youth by using a trauma-informed approach to managing the space and supporting young people. When youth “act out”, are hyper-vigilant, or have quick reactions of self-defense, take a step back and support the student by understanding where that reaction came from in order to figure out the plan to support them, instead of only punitive measures. Often the reaction is a trauma response that would need support from the school counselor or social worker.
10. Last but not least, it is crucial to have social workers on staff who have real understanding of LGBTQ youth, gender and sexuality. They do not need to identify with the community themselves but it is so very important that they understand and affirm the youth. The risks are too high, and LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness need extra support and if the staff do not understand and empathize with them, they will not go to them for support. The repercussions of that are too high. Youth are consistently doing the work to be their best selves, and we must do the work to show up and affirm them.
Nadia Swanson, LMSW, is the Coordinator of Training and Advocacy for the Ali Forney Center. This blog is part of a GLSEN partnership with the Ali Forney Center to learn more about what school-based resources and actions can be done to support LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness.
]]>It can be difficult attending school as an LGBTQ youth. We are constantly being teased for the way we dress, and who we are attracted to. There are many ways educators can make the classroom environment a safer space for youth including homeless queer youth. Queer homeless youth go through a lot -- from feeling or being abandoned, to feeling like they do not belong. This puts homeless youth at a disadvantage when it comes to having access to support and resources. As an educator for all youth, which includes homeless queer youth, there’s an obligation to also provide resources around homelessness to help empower and uplift youth.
Growing up as a queer person attending a New York City public school in Harlem, I was bullied and teased for the way I was dressed. I wore mostly baggy clothes and did not dress the way folks thought a “girl” or a “woman” should. Thinking back in that experience during my formative years, the one thing I needed to help me through that, was the support and care of my teachers and other staff in my school. I wanted to feel welcomed and protected by educators who knew what it was like to be me, or who at least educated themselves on queer issues. I looked for support and guidance and it was nowhere to be found. There were no classes that talked about issues affecting me, and no posters or flags representing me or other LGBTQ folks. Teachers should always intervene when LGBTQ homeless youth are being bullied for either their identity or if their clothes are not “right,” because they can’t afford new ones.
One of the most important ways, and the first start to creating a safer environment for queer youth in the classroom, is educating yourself. Educators have a duty to continue educating themselves so that they can effectively teach the youth. You can start your research on the internet. Learn inclusive and compassionate language to spark conversation in class, how to help diffuse situations, and ways to teach your students by example what it looks like to be kind. Educators should be the first ally for youth and through both education and modeling, can help other students in the classroom who may or may not be queer, become allies as well.
Restorative justice is another way in which educators can foster compassion for youth who may be “acting out” through trauma. So when you realize that a youth is acting out through various traumas they are facing, then you will know how to properly view the situation instead of it being a character flaw of the student, you can start to address the situation at the root.
Teaching all students about the accomplishment of other queer folks can help queer or questioning students see themselves as folks who can also (if they wanted to) change the world. Representation in the classroom and history matters. While also teaching youth about the extraordinary things queer folks have done, remember to also remind them that not doing extraordinary things, or not having a desire to do extraordinary things, is okay. Your validity as a queer person is not rooted in how you can change the world. It’s valid because you are valid, no matter what you choose to do.
Lastly, it will be a difficult process to make your classrooms a safer space for homeless queer youth. It will take a series of mistakes to learn and unlearn all of the things we were taught about queerness, queer youth, and homelessness. But doing this hard work as an educator is the least one can do to foster an inclusive community with restorative justice and compassion for all.
Sleeping Swan is an Ali Forney Client Liaison. This blog is part of a GLSEN partnership with the Ali Forney Center to learn more about what school-based resources and actions can be done to support LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness.
]]>By the time you’re reading this, I will be about two months into my third year teaching elementary special education. Which also means I’m about two months into my third year of answering questions from children about my gender identity.
I would like say to I’ve heard it all at this point, but I am constantly surprised by the questions my students have about my gender.
I love that my students never simply ask if I’m a boy or a girl. Instead, my students ask me why I wear makeup when I also usually wear men’s clothing. They ask me why I wear earrings when I also often have a beard. When not discussing my appearance, my use of gender neutral pronouns is the subject of many of their questions. Their complex questions show an innate curiosity in what they do not understand, and this presents me with an incredible teaching opportunity.
Instead of getting upset with their questions, I remind myself that this is exactly why I chose to teach elementary special education. I am the first non-binary person most of them have ever met, and many people have kept them from learning about the LGBTQ+ community at all because they do not believe it is developmentally appropriate. This gives me a very important job: I get to be the one to introduce them to an identity that I am so proud to have. I get to —in a way that is both age and developmentally appropriate— have conversations with my students about my reality.
The best part is that my students already understand difference. My students know that they are different and they know what that means. They understand that people treat them differently based on things about them that they can’t change. Instead of letting their identities as kids with disabilities be a reason that I cannot talk about my LGBTQ+ identities, I make sure that it is a reason that they will be the best ones to understand what I am going through. We are able to talk about a common goal: wanting respect from everyone despite being different.
Admittedly, I could never have done this alone. I have some incredible coworkers by my side who have made all of this possible. They have made space for me to exist in my truest and most authentic self by always using my pronouns correctly, making space for me to talk about my identities, and allowing me to answer questions from the students honestly. On the first day I met the students, every single one of the people on my team introduced themselves with their pronouns so that I would not feel singled out when I shared mine. These parts of being out at work have been incredible.
Don’t get me wrong, it is not always easy to be out at work. Wearing makeup, men’s clothing, and earrings when I haven’t shaved definitely makes some of the students in the school turn their heads. I have heard students whispering to one another when I walk by. There are staff members who have questions that I can see on their faces when I sit down for lunch in the lounge. People often default to using he/him pronouns for me, even though I wear a pin on my work lanyard that says they/them.
I’ve been asked many times if the extra work of being out as non-binary at work is worth it. I pass pretty well as a cis man, and I’ve been told by many people that it would be easier to just tell my students I’m one of the guys. My answer to whether or not it is worth it to be out as non-binary is a resounding YES. It is a privilege to be able to help raise the next generation with an understanding of non-binary identities. It is a privilege to spend every day teaching young people that asking questions about things they don’t understand is the only way to learn. It is a privilege to raise the next generation with the knowledge that gender is a social construct, that the gender binary is limiting, and that they can express their gender in any way they choose to.
Most of all, it is a privilege to know that someday I might have a non-binary student who will get to say that they had a teacher who helped them feel seen in their identities, which is something that I, and so many other non-binary folks, never got to have.
Dylan Kapit is a 4th/5th-grade special educator who is currently working at The Quad Preparatory school in Manhattan, and is a member of GLSEN's Educator Advisory Committee. For more information, blogs by trans educators, and resources on gender identity go to www.glsen.org/trans.
]]>It's a typical Wednesday afternoon on the playground, but in the minds of my 5-year-old students it’s a zombie obstacle course, an Olympic monkey bar competition, or a restorative circle of tears and reconciliation. One such 5-year-old, so distracted by my presence, takes a break in their play to ask, "Are you a boy or a girl?" I promptly answer, "Both and sometimes neither." To this they look at me with a delicate grin and animated bob of their head. Responding with “Okay, me too sometimes,” as they zombie walk away. As a non-binary trans educator, this is a daily occurrence, a daily “coming out,” a daily playful teaching moment in between literacy and personal space lessons, and an ongoing conversation.
This child’s response is not exclusive to this school nor to my experiences as a teacher. I have heard it echoed by numerous queer, GNC and trans educators. I have experienced this in public and private schools, with mixed responses from co-workers and administration. The ease of this experience can be attributed to three factors: 1) the openness and comfort with which preschool-age and kindergarten-age children engage in conversations about gender, 2) the trans-affirming public school where I work and 3) the privilege I have to be out in my workplace. The latter factors are not mutually exclusive but the first always stands. Children in preschool and early elementary grades are not limited by commitments to prejudice and bias-- they want to learn the languages of identity, they want to hear queer stories, they want to know all the possibilities.
When I first developed the self-awareness and vocabulary to appreciate my trans identity, I would never have imagined I would feel so at ease teaching 5-year-old children gender-neutral pronouns, let alone be out at work. Early in my career I realized that my professional and personal identities are inseparable. Avoiding the endless questions from students about my gender and expression was not only causing me excessive anxiety, but also giving them a dishonest representation of the world, relationships and who can be a teacher. It wasn’t until five years into my career as an educator that I requested support from my school to be out as nonbinary and transgender. While this wasn’t always greeted with love and understanding from the adults in my workplace, hearing four and five-year-old students respond with “That’s cool!” “Me too!” and “I want to be called ‘she’ now” are well worth the tears and frustration caused by transphobia in the workplace.
“Are you a boy or a girl?” “Why you got hair on your legs?” “You like flowers and pink too?” “You sound like a boy.” “Do you like Elsa?” “You’re both, so do you get to use both bathrooms?” I started seeing these endless questions and comments directed at my gender identity as invitations to teaching moments. These preschoolers weren’t baiting me; they simply wanted the information on gender from the only reliable source they knew. No need for long lectures, hours of workshops, or a shift of categories and biases. In early childhood education all it takes is honesty, relatable language, consistency, hugs, and some stickers for good measure.
Every school year, for the past five years, I have had to come out and explain to a new group of very young children and their parents, how to use they/them pronouns, that clothing and toys have no gender, and that their own unique gender(s) live(s) in their hearts. Every school year of my career I have had gender non-conforming and/or trans children in my classroom. These children are why I continue to work with preschool and kindergarten students and to push for gender-expansive curriculum in early childhood education. So how, exactly, do we discuss gender with children who are often pre-literate, and sometimes pre-verbal? We tap into their sense of imagination, admirable emotional sincerity, and their love of dramatic expression.
More specifically, in my classrooms I have incorporated the following starter mottoes, values and mini-lessons. While these tools are presented with early childhood children in mind, I have also used them in professional development settings with adults:
Openly discuss gender identity and pronouns from the start
Gender lives in your heart and communicates with your brain
- "Someone might feel like a boy in their heart, a girl in their heart, both or neither”
Pronouns help us talk about another person with respect
- Place your hand on your heart and repeat these pronouns (e.g. she has her hand on her heart, they have their hand on their heart…etc.) What feels warm in your heart? Which pronoun(s) feel like respect to you right now?
GLSEN’s pronoun stickers and pins
- When someone sees this symbol they can read it and know how to talk about you (pre-literate: blue=They/Them, Green=She/Her, Yellow= He/Him, Pink=ask the person)
I encourage educators to repurpose these tools, role play gender-based conflicts from your classroom, recognize your students’ hard work and curiosity, and continue to revisit meaningful gender discussions and activities throughout the year. And of course: books, books, books! Try reading the children’s favorite books, this time with different pronouns. Whether you are an administrator, parent, or teacher these small changes in language and approach to gender conversations will mean the world to very young children. Give them a chance to show how inquisitive, accepting, and considerate they are, and give them, and trans teachers, a chance to be.
Syd Shannon, M.A., has been working in Bay Area and NYC schools for over 10 years and is currently the Kindergarten Director at Children’s After school Arts (CASA) (photo credit: @lou.bank)
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A GSA is a student-led club focusing on LGBTQ identity, support, and advocacy. For LGBTQ students, GSAs can provide a safe and affirming space, encourage leadership opportunities, and promote avenues for creating positive institutional change. In fact, 91.0% of LGBTQ students involved in a GSA advocated for social or political issues, compared to just 74.7% of LGBTQ youth not involved in a GSA (GLSEN 2017).
Adult advisors can be critical to a GSA's success in many ways. These 10 Actions for Advisors can help you provide the best possible support to your club, whether your GSA is just beginning, or in need of a fresh start:
By registering your GSA, your club will receive monthly updates, access to new resources, invitations to youth summits around the country, free swag and more! Registering your club, old or new, is the best way to keep in touch with GLSEN and make sure you're always getting up to date information. Register your GSA today!
2. Do your Research
As the adult advisor, it’s helpful to have an understanding of your school’s policies and what LGBTQ-supportive policies look like. Research the laws in your state, rights for LGBTQ students, and places to send students with more questions, such as www.glsen.org/knowyourrights and LGBTQ community centers in the area.
Also, take this time to reflect and consider your own LGBTQ advocacy. People are called into this work for a variety of reasons: being LGBTQ-identified, having a loved one who is LGBTQ, being a strong social justice advocate, or just being the type of educator or administrator who students trust. Consider what feels right for you to share at different times if you are asked about your role as GSA advisor.
GSAs function best when students are in charge of the group’s goals, focus, and events. In many cases, a student or a group of students are the driving force for the creation of the GSA. If you are starting a GSA as an educator, consider connecting with students who might be interested and getting their input. While your role as an adult ally to youth leaders is critically important, it’s important to consider how you are following their lead, listening to their desires for the group, and focusing on their interests, while also supporting them in thinking through what support they might need in order to execute their goals.
We use the term “GSA” to refer to all LGBTQ-themed clubs. While the term was originally coined as “Gay-Straight Alliance”, many people now use the term "Gender-Sexuality Alliance" to be more inclusive and reflective of the community and purpose of the group. Your students may want the club to be called GSA, or they may want to create their own name. Whether it’s “Equity Club,” “Rainbow Alliance,” “Geography Club,” or an acronym that works for your school, the name should be determined by the students, and the group should be open to changing and shifting over time.
GSAs can be community-focused, centering students with LGBTQ identities who want to connect with each other and supportive allies; organizing-focused, centering students committed to creating more LGBTQ-inclusive supports, celebrations, policies, and practices; or both, depending on the meeting, participants, or year. How the GSA comes together and what the students want to use their club time for is up to the students, but it’s important that they (and you) understand these different models and options. Shifting between community and organizing can help sustain a group’s longevity and impact in a school.
Once you have a core group of student leaders, some basic goals and focus, it’s important to advertise your GSA to recruit more members. You can host an event like a movie night or guest speaker, have a “bring a friend” meeting, or ask if you can put up posters or a table in the lobby to let people know that your club exists and more are welcome to join! See more Tips for Finding More GSA Members on our website.
Having ground rules for the group is a really important step in ensuring that the GSA functions as a safe, more intentional space for LGBTQ youth. These rules and guidelines can help young people to navigate discussing their identities and help them listen to each other more authentically. These rules, along with established roles within the GSA, will help the group to function more independently and to delegate the responsibilities of the group clearly to individual students. It’s important to consider the multiple identities your students bring into the group, including race, ability, income/access, religion, etc., and to ensure that students with multiple marginalized identities are prioritized. Your role is to help young people when conflicts arise, and to remind the group, when necessary, about the established ground rules that they created.
Using planning tools such as GLSEN’s school year calendar can provide a GSA with options for discussion topics or event planning throughout the year. GLSEN supports three main days of action throughout the year: Ally Week (September), No Name-Calling Week (January) and The Day of Silence (April), providing free merchandise, resources, and ways to connect to GSAs across the country over social media. You can find more activity ideas at www.glsen.org/gsa.
Additionally, try to plan a meeting time that works for your students, does not conflict with other identity-based group meeting times, and is consistent. Having regularly scheduled weekly meetings rather than meeting bi monthly can create a significant difference in attendance.
While young people can be tremendous advocates for their needs, your role as a GSA advisor is to ensure that they are not doing this alone. You can be a valuable advocate for your students by acting as a liaison to administrators, families, and other colleagues. Use your leverage as an adult and someone with access to the faculty meetings to help others know what the group is doing and how they can be supported, and, whenever possible, to arrange for students to enter these spaces to speak for themselves. In the event that your club experiences pushback, your role in addressing the situation, advocating for the students, and holding space for them is essential.
Young people are the experts of their own identities and what they need, regardless of how fluid and shifting those identities and needs may be. Each LGBTQ youth and LGBTQ advocate has their own story and experience. GSA clubs are student-led so it is crucial to empower students to do the work and assist where you're needed. GSA advisors have access to a special space where LGBTQ students and allies can come together to be themselves.
Many educators worry that they don’t know “enough” about LGBTQ identity to be a GSA advisor. Remember that you don’t have to be an expert at gender and sexual identity to be a respectful and affirming advisor. Be prepared with resources for topics that are outside of your expertise so that as students are exploring themselves, you have the ability to outsource their continued support while being realistic about your capacity. Be sure that you respect that space by modeling pronouns, affirming any and all identities shared with you, and being open and receptive to continually learning new things.
Becca Mui, M. Ed, is GLSEN’s Education Manager. Email educators@glsen.org for more information, resources, and support.
]]>As teachers, finding ways to incorporate LGBTQ revolutionaries into your lesson plans is one way to ensure that you are validating the life of the queer or questioning teens in your classroom. By doing this you are giving an accurate representation of how many different identities have influenced and continue to influence the world. You can emphasize where LGBTQ people are showing up in the media, social justice movements, and in the government, just to name a few. Representation is needed to ensure that your youth are feeling safer and visible. Homeless queer youth are even more at risk of feeling invisible because narratives do not include the lens of homelessness and shelter insecurity.
Education is the only way to ensure that youth are receiving valuable lessons of acceptance, inclusion, and visibility. There are dozens of LGBTQ+ icons you can include in your lessons, like Audre Lorde, a black lesbian feminist Poet, James Baldwin, a black gay writer and civil rights activist, Sylvia Rivera, a trans Latina who, alongside Marsha P. Johnson, a black trans woman, was a pioneer in our trans and queer rights’ revolution, and Desmond the Amazing, one of the youngest contemporary drag queens. Also, include contemporary young queer activists experiencing homelessness in your work.
Share these stories to give the youth a foundation, so they can build self-esteem, affirmation, and love. Also, make sure your students are aware of resources available to homeless queer youth without outing their status. This access to resources can empower them, and also help with those who may feel uncomfortable speaking about their homelessness.
Learning curriculum that centers their identities or learning that different identities exist can help all students to build understanding and acceptance. This can also provide a learning environment of growth, compassion, healing, and love. Never forget the power of folks being able to see themselves as people who are part of a community, part of humanity. This is how we start the healing process. Whether your individual students will influence the world has a lot to do with whether they can even conceptualize the idea of change or mold a world they want to see without even seeing themselves represented as change makers or agents for change. And as a caretaker of the youth and their brains for 8 hours a day 5 days a week, you can make the most direct impact for them. You can teach them, open their eyes, and influence their growth. For many homeless queer youth, school can be a safe haven from the trauma they are experiencing while navigating through homelessness and to have a safer space. Be loving, inclusive, non-judgmental, and affirming through policies and lessons; these changes can improve the life of that youth significantly.
Abena Bria Bello is an Ali Forney Client Liaison. This blog is part of a GLSEN partnership with the Ali Forney Center. Visit their website to learn more about what school-based resources and actions can be done to support LGBTQ youth experiencing homelessness.
]]>Yesterday we learned of the administration’s newest tactic to once again ignore the struggles and existence of transgender people, particularly transgender youth. A leaked memo from the Department of Health and Human Services revealed new efforts to conflate gender with sex and define it purely as a “biological, immutable condition determined by genitalia at birth.” Establishing this new legal definition of sex is intended to formally redefine Title IX — the civil rights guidance that establishes protections from gender-based discrimination in education. After stripping the Obama-era guidance that specifically named gender identity as a protected category, this new move would effectively erase the experiences of transgender, non-binary, and intersex people — people whose identities, expressions, and bodies cannot be confined to the binary.
Exactly one week ago new statistics were released from the GLSEN 2017 National School Climate Survey revealing just how harrowing of a time it is to be transgender in schools. In addition to seeing general progress for LGBTQ students plateau or, worse, reverse, we also witnessed an increase in gender-based discrimination and bullying. Over 8 in 10 transgender students reported being bullied or harassed because of their gender identity and/or expression. Further, nearly half of transgender and gender nonconforming youth were precluded from using school facilities (like bathrooms and locker rooms) that matched their gender, in addition to using their chosen name and pronouns in school. It is important to remember that this data assesses school climate from over a year ago, prior to an onslaught of anti-LGBTQ bills proposed across the country and, of course, this new memo to eliminate non-binary identities out of law.
Despite the many challenges facing transgender and gender nonconforming youth in schools, it is critical that we also remember that they are, and always have been, extremely resilient in the face of adversity. In addition to learning about heightened discrimination, we also learned that 4 in 5 LGBTQ youth have been politically engaged and active this past year, and GSAs (Gender-Sexuality Alliances) led by incredible LGBTQ student leaders can now be found in more than half of schools. This picture offers us just a tiny sliver of the work many trans youth are doing in their local communities to speak up, raise awareness, and make a difference, and we know they are making huge strides, particularly among people their age.
Last night I stood alongside hundreds of transgender, non-binary, and intersex young adults in the heart of New York City to protest this new federally-sanctioned tactic of erasure. Despite my own sadness, fear, and outrage, I was reminded, standing in a sea of strong, empowered queer young people, that we are not doing this alone. We must remember that this memo comes at a time of heightened activism and resistance in every corner of the country to an administration that has targeted countless marginalized peoples, and the need for them to try and erase our existence only signals our fortitude.
We want you to know that you are not alone. Staff at GLSEN and the dozens of other national LGBTQ+ organizations across the country are working around the clock to ensure that trans youths’ voices are heard, and will not be silenced. We ask that you take care of yourselves and your students, and do not hesitate to reach out to us for direct support at educators@glsen.org or students@glsen.org.
For those ready to take action or looking for actions to share with peers, we suggest the following (amended from a list by Chase Strangio of the ACLU):
GLSEN has a series of gender educational resources housed on both glsen.org/trans and glsen.org/safeschools
Integrate lesson plans like Learning Empowerment and Self-Identification for middle and high school students, and Identity Flowers and That’s A (Gender) Stereotype! for elementary students
Study educator guides and brochures on how to support trans, non-binary, and intersex students, such as “What We Wish Our Teachers Knew” by interACT and “Pronouns: A Resource for Educators”