so, I came out to a class of 11th graders today
Things I didn’t intend to do when I woke up: the above.
Long story short, a discussion of homosexuality in The Perks of Being a Wallflower (the teacher’s agenda was essentially: “I am going to get the If-You-Are-A-Homophobe-I-Will-Educate-Your-Sorry-Ass conversation out of the way so we can discuss the book like rational people, I will not tolerate any of that shit in this classroom.”) Frau S is a BAMF ally, who knew?
The conversation, mostly respectful (some of the kids just plain weren’t paying attention but, eh, it was 5th hour on a Friday and I expect nothing less) and, well, here’s how it went.
Frau S: I so often hear people use “gay” as an insult, I really hope I won’t hear it in this classroom. Do people who say that ever think about what gay or lesbian pupils think when they hear it?
Student W: Yes, and maybe the teachers, too. Maybe they can also be hurt by this. In the book Brad is very scared to say he is gay, but maybe adults are, too.
Frau S: Yes, exactly. It affects teachers as well.
Emily’s internal monologue: hahahaha yes ooooooooh fuck.
Student R: But, why does a teacher not say they are gay? Maybe if the student knows they are not alone, they will also say it.
Emily’s internal monologue: Shit hell damn and tits, I hate passing. I hate it. Why can’t this be as obvious and inconsequential as my hair colour. It’s been, like, nearly 6 years, why has this shit not gotten significantly easier? Eff.
Student S: I agree with R. When you know somebody who has the same situation it can be easier.
Emily’s internal monologue: Aw hell, valid point. Ok, fuck it. Just, at this point, just no. Aaaaaaaaaaaand go!
Emily: Yeah, I agree with S. But to answer R’s question, sometimes it has nothing to do with their job. Like me, for example. The fact that I am bisexual has nothing to do with English. Well, it does today. So, uh, if you guys know of anybody who needs to talk about this kind of thing and doesn’t want to go to a parent or somebody much older, you know where to find me?
Great thing about being queer: I will always have great stories if there is ever a lull in conversation (sometimes multiple ones. I hate that I can’t just, like, wear this shit on my forehead or something). This one wasn’t as good as the time I came out to a Spanish professor in a homework assignment. Do you know how hard it is to write a gender neutral love letter in Spanish?
