School book bans and anti-trans policies teach children the wrong lessons about acceptance
California has always been a focal point for the development and growth of the queer community, since San Francisco hosted the first Pride in 1970, all the way to West Hollywood being the capital of queer nightlife today.
So why are we now seeing the most vulnerable members of the queer community, children and young adults, targeted with vitriolic policies aimed at erasing them?
Many would agree that the question on the mere existence of queer people is no longer debatable. In 2015, same-sex marriage was legalized, and in 2020, LGBTQ+ status was declared a protected class within Title VII anti-discrimination laws. The fight for queer liberation seemed to be closing with a pleasant resolution, as many liberties and civil rights were becoming accomplished after more than 50 years of activism.
With a world safer for queer individuals to identify themselves, be accepted and participate in the same social structures as everyone else, it was the natural conclusion that more and more children and young adults would come out of the closet and embrace their identities.
I was one of those children. In my freshman year of high school, I made it a huge deal to tell everyone that I was gay. Everyone already knew, and any adult that knew me when I was 5 years old probably could have guessed it. That I had something different to tell people was an accomplishment for me, though, as I was able to explain why my voice sounded different, why I walked with more pep in my step, why I never was into sports or had any guy friends.
It was nearly stereotypical how gay I was, and I loved it. Eventually, as the first person in my school to come out, others followed suit, and the campus-wide conversation on being queer eventually became not caring what other people thought.
It was such a gift to be queer at the school I went to.
But that was five years ago. Five years ago, people didn’t bat an eye when a kid came out, but one particular poll made people realize they should: In February 2022, Gallup reported that 21% of Gen Z adults identified as LGBTQ+, compared to 10.5% in 2017.
That number terrified parents. The idea that children — the most innocent, most vulnerable, and most impressionable cohort of our society — were joining the most crude, most sexualized and most obnoxious cohort was cause for concern for many parents who followed a more conservative lifestyle.
Predictably, they mobilized.
School boards became breeding grounds for homophobic and transphobic policies once again. As we’ve seen in California, Temecula Valley Unified and Chino Valley Unified have emboldened homophobia to take root with attempts to ban books and parental notification policies, impressing upon children and teachers the idea that LGBTQ+ identities — as fragile as they are among children — should be silenced.
That message terrifies me. It tells children that the way their friends and classmates live is wrong. To remove the visibility of queer people and culture is to remove their normalcy from society. Children who are not allowed to view us as normal will never do so without proper role models to teach them acceptance.
The bigger threat from these policies becomes clearer when you think about the queer children in these schools. I remember in third grade being called gay in a pejorative way when I had no clue what it meant.
My third-grade teacher sat everyone down and explained how that hurts everyone, and how it isn’t our job to see people as different just for the sake of it. That conversation was essential to making sure I was safe in that classroom.
Those conversations will be eliminated if the campaign to erase our visibility continues.
Imagine the pain the queer community feels when our children are told they can’t exist as their full selves.