Before I began classroom teaching, I was a diversity educator. I went into schools and talked about not being straight. Even then, I was worried that looking too dykey would work against me, because not all dykes are so readable. I could talk about discrimination, visibility and the importance of inclusivity. My personal experience was central and kids love a different teacher, a different topic, especially when it’s a bit taboo.
Fast forward to teaching my own kids. In many ways it was better. My own class, my own school. After about six months the kids forgot I didn’t really look like a girl and they knew me as their teacher. My gender was not confounding, but to me, my silence around it was. They knew, I knew. It was not spoken of. To them, I had a partner, but beyond that the silence was deafening. A lie of omission. This is nothing new – the coming out, the not coming out. I was out to staff and some students. It’s a glass closet, and what is also visible is your shame. I look butch, but I’m not willing to speak it.
So I left full time teaching and now I teach teachers. As with my old students, the teachers I work with know me as a professional and we work well together. The fodder for this blog is their students. They see me on random occasions, and they have no idea who I am or what I am doing there. So they take me on face value.