I came out in the last couple of years of secondary school, first to my close friends, then to a specific trusted teacher, eventually to my mother. What I want to share is how that went, the positives, the negatives, the timeline of events from when I first admitted to myself what I was feeling to the day I gave up on higher education because of the way I was being treated.
I am 33 years old, so this happened – relatively speaking – a long time ago. 2004-2006 was a weird time for trans rights. It was a weird time for queer rights in general we didn’t have marriage equality, we barely just got the gender act that allows Gender Recognition Certificates (GRCs) (don’t get me started on those), we didn’t have the 2010 equality act to slam down on the desk whenever we were mistreated. But at the time I didn’t worry about any of that. Because I didn’t have any representation. I had no idea what I was feeling, no idea who to talk to about it, and no idea that it was normal for about 1-10% (gender and sexuality combined) of the human population (at minimum) to be like me.
I thought my friends were supportive but in hindsight they were doing the bare minimum of “ignoring the problem and not using slurs” that a lot of cis people do. Including asking for permission to use my deadname because it was “easier”. But the person who was supportive was the Drama teacher in secondary school.
She introduced me to the ideas that I hold onto, to this day. She didn’t use the terminology that we use now but she is the first person who taught me that despite what “the cistem” (my term for system) says, transition isn’t one path with one end goal, it’s a journey you make as you go along. You choose where to start, where to go, what to do, and no matter what anyone says, you are valid. She taught me that I don’t have to let anyone else define me. Not just with her words but with the way she was as a person. She never dressed like anyone else, she never spoke like anyone else, she never once prioritized strict adherence to official doctrine over what was best for her students. She used to let me leave whatever class I was in and come hide in her department even while other teachers complained about it, which was incredibly beneficial to my undiagnosed autism and my mental health issues resulting from trauma and gender dysphoria. It is, without a doubt, directly because of her that I was able to start fighting for my transition in the face of people who outright told me I wasn’t trans.
It is because of her that I stooole borrowed my parents credit card and bought a bunch of feminine clothes that I might dramatically reveal my true nature at prom. Which dropped a bunch of dominoes from the moment I placed the order. Because of that decision I was forced to come out to my mother – which, after she stopped being so cis about everything (grieving for no reason, worrying for no reason, struggling with really simple things like pronouns for no reason) – actually ended up for the best, as she is very supportive of my transition.
I consider prom a success, but it did lead to several revelations.
- Firstly: Teachers aren’t better than anyone else. I was already challenging authority before this but, hearing the geography teacher was going around telling other students that I shouldn’t be dressed like this and it was unnatural really was the last pin in the final balloon for that whole thing.
- Secondly: Cis people don’t get it. They never will. The best ally isn’t someone who gets it, it’s someone who listens and signal boosts our voices.
- Thirdly: Being yourself in the face of normalcy is the truest freedom one can experience.
But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows after that. Coming out didn’t magically change the world, or myself. After the big thrill I still had to work on who I was and fight a cistem that is actively trying to kill us, let’s not mince words. Whether it’s for who we love, or who we are, this world is not kind to us. There are very important changes that need to be made to help us in the face of this adversity.
When I went to college I was denied access to the bathrooms I needed, had my attendance marked as absent even when it wasn’t so that I couldn’t get the money I was owed, had teachers refuse to use my chosen name because it’s “not your real name” despite letting other students go by any nickname they wanted, and, eventually, had my grades marked down (despite the fact that I was teaching several of my classmates who couldn’t follow along with the apathetic “read the textbook and shut up” teaching model of a couple of the lecturers) for no discernible reason. The discrimination I faced led to me dropping out of college and to this day my highest level of official education stands at GCSE, regardless of how much I’ve learned from other sources. This could have been avoided with proper support from the institutions I was attending.
If I were to send a message to schools and the staff therein it would be to put aside your petty, personal feelings, educate yourselves on the science – not the politics, not whatever the government wants you to say, but the science that they’re ignoring – and support your queer students.
We are not going anywhere. We will never go anywhere. You cannot get rid of us because more of us are born every generation, from you. If you want a productive, healthy, and happy society, your only choice is to accept and support your minority students. This starts with something as simple as learning as much as you can about gender and sexuality. Don’t assume you know, anything at all. Even most of us don’t know everything about our community. Listen, learn, and give your students a safe space to explore themselves. And if any teachers are found to be discriminating against queer students it is vital that they be punished even more harshly than students who are bullying others. A teacher abusing their queer students sets a precedent for everyone else that it is OK to behave like that. It sends the message that you are not only blind to, but approving of, that discrimination. This goes for all teacher-on-student abuse but I was asked for my experience as a queer person, specifically.
Other important changes include respecting a students name and pronouns, having an officially supported queer association, not separating classes by assigned gender for no reason, having gender neutral options for bathrooms, changing rooms, and uniforms, as well as allowing any gender to wear any uniform they like.
Never telling a student they are not something they open up to you about. You can suggest that they explore other things, but do not deny them their burgeoning identity. Even when we don’t understand ourselves we objectively understand ourselves better than anyone else, because we are ourselves
And never tell a students parents what is told to you in confidence. N E V E R. It doesn’t matter how you personally feel or what anyone else tells you is best for them – you do not know their home life. There are more abusers in the world than anyone likes to admit. If you tell a parent what a student has told you in confidence, you could lead not only to their emotional, physical, or sexual abuse, but to their deaths. And if you are genuinely comfortable with that fact, you should not be any level of staff in charge of a child’s safety.
To my fellow queers of all different flavours:
No matter how well educated they are the cis and/or het people around you will never truly understand you, it’s not important for them to truly understand you, it is only important for them to trust that you know yourself and offer you help in figuring out what you want to do with yourself and about the world around you.
You need to find people who will understand you. That will necessarily be people like you. Whether you find them online or in person – though in person is generally better if you can manage it – it is vital that you learn from our experiences and our shared history, not just what you are told by the people who are reciting (often outdated or incorrect to begin with) textbook definitions of what it means to be who we are.
I would like to tell you that the world is getting easier for us but I can’t. I can’t tell you that the fight is over, or even nearing its end.
You will face unnecessary adversity in this life – it will never be easy to be what society considers “deviant”. I stand by the fact that it is better to be free than to conform even in the face of this.
When we embrace who we are we are truly free in a way those who choose to blindly stumble through life will never experience. It is a powerful feeling and, in my personal opinion as an old-ish, woman-ish-adjacent, non-binary creatura, it is far superior to the fake love that comes from pretending to be something you’re not.
If people will only love a lie, they do not love you, and they do not deserve you. Any safety that comes from hiding is offset by the pain of living that lie. We are strongest when we stand proud and stand together. Always remember: The first Pride was a riot.
Oh and, officially I do not condone nor recommend theft of any calibre, petty or grand. We all make mistakes and I am very lucky that the consequences I suffered were a forced outing that went well, and not a prison sentence.
Unofficially do what you want I’m not your momma.