Day of Pink: A very early life lesson for my twins
My kids finally learned their parents face bias, laments Leslie Robertson.
I got virtually no sex-ed as a kid, and we certainly didn’t talk about alternative family structures, sexualities or gender identities . ... Maybe had my generation of parents had this type of education we could have built a less homophobic and transphobic society. Leslie Robertson
My four-year-old twins learned about something in their junior kindergarten class that makes me uncomfortable. On Wednesday, they learned about homophobia and transphobia.
They are too young, I’d thought at first. My discomfort with this was not based on conservative morality
— as perhaps it would be for some — but rather because my kids are queerspawn: the children of queer parents.
And I was worried about how they would feel to learn that we live in a society where same-sex couples — like their parents — could be mistreated because of who they are.
I’m nervous about them learning that gender non-confirming people, like one of their parents, could be victims of discrimination or harassment. Trans people are one of the most disadvantaged groups in society and routinely experience prejudice, discrimination, harassment, hatred and violence.
It scares me to think my kids could also be bullied because of who they are or what their family looks like.
Up until now, I wrapped myself in the comfort of thinking they did not yet have to consider that parents like theirs, who love them, feed them and cherish them, are the subject of mockery, of discrimination.
That some people consider us less than.
My kids have lots of friends with similarly nontraditional-looking families and they’ve been exposed to plenty of happy queer relationships; people like their parents and themselves surround them.
I wanted them to stay blissfully ignorant of this hatred for as long as possible.
But a friend of mine, who has been lobbying our school to include these lessons, pointed out that my kids, at four years old, are already learning the harsh realities of homophobia and transphobia.
I thought of how my son is increasingly shy about wearing dresses at school, something he likes doing because it is fun for him and because he never had to consider there was something wrong with playing dress-up in whatever way he liked.
I also see it in how my twins now only play house with a mommy and a daddy and sometimes insist that I’m their father and not their mother. It’s heartbreaking to see how hetero male-female stereotypes have already entered our home.
It was perhaps naïve of me to think that I could forever shield them from a culture that imposes harsh gender and relationship boxes.
Despite how much I wish I could protect them longer, it would be irresponsible of me as a parent to ignore reality. It is on us adults to give them the tools they need to understand their experiences in school and not cloak them in silence and shame.
Some schools chose to mark the Day of Pink — April 11 — by addressing antibullying more generally instead of zeroing it on the reason why it was founded in the first place. It started in Nova Scotia after two straight high school students saw a gay student wearing a pink shirt being bullied. Not only did they intervene but they also got their whole school to wear pink shirts to take a stand against homophobic and transphobic bullying.
The parents’ association spearheading our school’s participation in the Day of Pink, where my kids learned about transphobia and homophobia, has argued educators need to take this opportunity to address this head-on, as it was originally intended, instead of shying away from it.
And that’s important.
In the recent Progressive Conservative leadership race, Ontario’s sex-ed curriculum, which includes kids learning anatomy in kindergarten, about sexual consent, healthy relationships, intimate partner violence and yes, sexual orientation and gender identity, is once again a hotbutton issue.
The fact that we are even debating, again, whether it is appropriate to teach kids comprehensive sex-ed is indicative of how important these types of discussions are.
Destigmatizing these topics in our schools, from the start, promotes self-acceptance and self-confidence for queer and gender diverse kids.
Between four and 10 per cent of the Canadian population identifies as not heterosexual or cisgender; in any student body, a certain number of students already do or will someday identify as LGBTQ+.
This is without counting kids like mine — two of the tens of thousands of children living with LGBTQ+ parents in Ontario. By actively addressing homophobia and transphobia, we’re fostering a safer and more enriching learning environment for all students.
I got virtually no sex-ed as a kid, and we certainly didn’t talk about alternative family structures, sexualities or gender identities, let alone celebrate them. But maybe had my generation of parents had this type of education we could have built a less homophobic and transphobic society.
So, although I wish we lived in a world where we didn’t have to teach our kindergartners about this type of discrimination, they are already living it, and I’d rather that educators address those experiences openly and professionally, so that all kids receive the same lessons of openness and respect.