The Latest from VEA

In a political era marked by moves to ban books and restrict what’s taught and discussed in classrooms, one Virginia teacher shares his journey to bring his authentic self to his work and to his students.

By Joseph Todd Emerson

I didn’t have any gay role models when I was coming of age in what was then rural York County. I suspected some of my teachers were also same-sex attracted but would never dare to bring up the subject in conversations with my classmates, with the teachers personally, or even with my liberal-minded parents. The various pieces of fiction and nonfiction I was assigned to read or were available in my school’s libraries were completely void of my desired relationships.

If those seeking to limit access to such books believed it was because such reading material could cause a person to “become” gay, the opposite is certainly not true: reading the acceptable tomes and essays certainly didn’t make me heterosexual. Television programming was even worse. In fact, the only mention of anything having to do with the gay community was the horrific association of being homosexual with an immediate and lonely death from either disease, rejection, or brutal assault. Movies were somewhat better, but even then, propagated trope stereotypes of effete men who were either the subject of sadistic jokes or were seen as the unsexualized “third wheel” in heteronormative relationships. At least the music of that age saw the emergence of gender-benders such as Boy George, George Michael, and David Bowie, providing some semblance of hopeful optimism.

And yet, there I was, a new adult growing into manhood, ready to take on the world and the wonderful challenges of teaching social studies with the knowledge that I had to sacrifice a meaningful part of my life if I wanted to heed my calling as a Virginia public school teacher.

Three decades later, society’s opinions about the LGBT community have quantitatively changed for the better. I can eventually get married, and my future husband can be added to my school division’s health insurance plan and receive the survivor benefits afforded by Virginia Retirement System. Elections matter. They mattered then, when a pro-education, pro-educator majority changed the state Code, and they mattered this fall when Virginians cast ballots for all 140 members of our House and Senate. This election was about more than just whether LGBT teachers can openly and authentically serve in the classroom. It was also about protecting the ability of LGBT classroom professionals with an inherently unique perspective to best serve and mentor sexual-minority students.

Fortunately, in a development many didn’t see coming, legislators with more progressive philosophies made great gains in our General Assembly, hopefully heralding better times ahead for LGBT students and educators and for those who don’t fear the truth being told in our classrooms.

When I had the honor of serving on the Executive Board of the VEA Fund for Children and Public Education, my colleagues and I were consistently reminded that “every education decision is first a political decision.” Sadly, we are seeing this adage play out badly in states such as Florida, Texas, and Tennessee. And here in Virginia, our current administration has been working to extend its misconstrued anti-Critical Race Theory policy to harming Virginia’s LGBT student population under the guise of a focus-group, bumper-sticker approach to public policy framed under the misleading slogan of “Parents Rights.”

Governor Glenn Youngkin’s nod to graywash and bleach the rainbow is permitting local school boards to initiate policies and procedures requiring teachers to use pronouns which don’t comport with students’ cognition, restrict access to bathrooms, and censor the acquisition of learning materials. I can assure our esteemed governor, any member of any school board, concerned citizen, or worried parent who supports such authoritarian measures that when I was coming of age as a closeted teenager, my fear of using the bathroom, or changing in the locker room, or attempting to tape an ankle as my high school’s student trainer did not come from another gay, lesbian, or gender-bending classmate. Rather, my profound safety concerns arose from hypersexual straight peers and teammates who I feared would beat the pulp out of me, and those teachers and administrators who turned a blind eye when I was sexually assaulted during a hazing incident in an effort to promote “team-building.”

Today, across the Commonwealth, local school boards are debating which pieces of age-appropriate literature should be “restricted” or “removed.” As a trained historian, I cannot help but see parallels between arguments these locally elected officials are using to justify their positions with those utilized across Germany in the 1930s. Moreover, I cannot help but wonder if they would agree that my nephews’ parents also have the right to ensure their sons are given equal opportunities to read a diverse set of literature from multiple perspectives, promote their own curiosities, question the strictures and limitations of their community, and challenge the need to revitalize our democratic institutions. “Parents Rights” goes both ways, and it is time for pro-education parents to stand up to adult bullies and say that censorship is not an American value. In a national effort to protect college-level curriculum for AP students from such locally inspired censorship, The College Board indicated it would not revise, edit, or conduct a curriculum audit of the AP Psychology course to accommodate Florida’s “Don’t Say Gay” law.

Thankfully, the culture has changed for the better since my adolescence. More and more, students have access to quality literature with a greater representation of their lives and their loves. And, to be honest, I actually have a tinge of jealousy when I think about the wonderfully diverse television programming and literature young people today are able to access that did not exist when I was a teenager. Shows such as “Young Royals,” the adaptation of Alice Oseman’s Heartstopper graphic novels, and the upcoming film adaptation of “Red, White, and Royal Blue” are wonderful examples of strides made in progressive offerings by popular streaming services.

Every teacher knows the power the written word has on the human mind. We can expand our students’ consciousness and foster positive mentoring relationships with just the right word. Case in point, this past school year, a self-identified, initially closeted bisexual student of mine purchased a copy of Boyfriend Material, by Alexis Hall, because he saw me reading it during my lunch break. His purchase of that specific novel and the themes of finding love and living an authentic life sparked a series of meaningful conversations about a sense of worthiness and safe and proper methods of finding happiness, which have continued beyond his recent graduation. What prompted the emergence of these series of profound, meaningful, and sometimes daily conversations? Was it the Progress Pride flag hanging in my classroom? Was it my hand-drawn caricature of Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg and his husband sharing a sweet kiss? No. It was a book. And not just any book–a novel about two men who learn to grow into love and care deeply and passionately about each other. Isn’t that what we want for all children, irrespective of their sexual orientation?

Like many of us, ensuring that each student is properly affirmed has been a hallmark of my personal educational practice since I started teaching in 1991. However, the additional layer of having such sacred conversations and providing a safe harbor could not have taken place had the forward-thinking members of a pro-education, pro-teacher majority in our state legislature a few years ago not seen fit to change the law, thus allowing many of us to reveal a tiny shimmer of our full selves in our professional life.

Politicians often quip that we should “vote for our hopes and not our fears.” Well, I simultaneously do both when I step into the ballot box these days. In statewide, local school board and other elections, I vote for candidates who believe that access to diverse literature provides hope, opportunity, and validation. And I vote against candidates who believe the Floridication of Virginia is a proper political path. In doing so, I vote for a positive future for my nephews, and all sexual-minority youth who need us as their teachers, coaches, and mentors to be a positive, open, and life-affirming presence in their lives.

May it always be so.

Joseph Emerson, Ed.D., a member of the Newport News Education Association, teaches social studies at Denbigh High School.