A few years ago, the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Alliance at a private Boston-area university asked me to give a presentation on LGBT history at one of its weekly meetings. During my introductory remarks, in passing, I used the term "Stonewall," at which point a young man raised his hand and asked me, "What is a 'Stonewall?'"
I explained that the Stonewall Inn is a small bar located on Christopher Street in Greenwich Village in New York City where, in the early morning hours of June 28, 1969, during a routine police raid, patrons fought back. This event, I continued, is generally credited with igniting the modern movement for LGBT liberation and equality.
The young man thanked me and stated that he is a first-year college student, and although he is gay, he had never heard about Stonewall or anything else associated with LGBT history while in high school. As he said this, I thought to myself that though we have made progress over the years, conditions remain very difficult for LGBT and questioning youth today, because school is still not a very "queer" place to be.
In my own high school years during the 1960s, LGBT topics rarely surfaced, and then only in a negative context. Once my health education teacher talked about the technique of electro-shock treatment for "homosexuals" to alter their sexual desires. In senior English class, the teacher stated that "even though Andre Gide was a homosexual, he was a good author in spite of it." These references (within the overarching Heterosexual Studies curriculum at my high school) forced me to hide deeper into myself, thereby further damaging my self-esteem and identity.
I consider, therefore, the half-truths, the misinformation, the deletions, the omissions, the distortions, and the overall censorship of LGBT history, literature and culture in the schools as a form of violence.
I am seeing increasingly an emphasis within the schools on issues related to bullying and harassment prevention. Current prevention strategies include investigation of issues of abuse and unequal power relationships, issues of school climate and school culture, and how these issues within the larger society are reproduced in the schools, among other concerns. Often missing from these strategies, however, are multicultural curricular infusion. Unfortunately, still today educators require courage to counter opposing forces, for example, the current attacks on Ethnic Studies programs currently underway in states like Arizona.
Throughout the United States, under the battle cry of "preserving traditional American family values," conservative and theocratic forces are attempting to prevent multicultural curricula being instituted in the schools. On the elementary school level related to LGBT issues, they are targeting books like And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell, a lovely true story about two male penguins in the New York City Central Park Zoo raising a baby penguin; also, King and King, by Linda de Haan, about a king meeting his mate, another king. Not so long ago, the Right went after Daddy's Roommate, written and illustrated by Michael Willhoite, about a young boy who spends time with his father and father's life partner, Frank, following the parents' divorce, and Gloria Goes to Gay Pride by Lesléa Newman, with illustrations by Russell Crocker, a portrait of young Gloria who lives with her two mommies: Mama Rose, a mechanic, and Mama Grace, a nurse.
For LGBT violence- and suicide-prevention strategies to have any chance of success, in addition to the establishment and maintenance of campus "Gay/Straight Alliance" groups, ongoing staff development, written and enforced anti-discrimination policies, and support services, schools must incorporate and embed into the curriculum across the academic disciplines and at every level of the educational process multicultural perspectives, including LGBT, age-appropriately from pre-school through university graduate-level programs and courses, from the social sciences and humanities, through the natural sciences. LGBT experiences stand as integral strands in the overall multicultural rainbow, and everyone has a right to information that clarifies and explains our stories.
For LGBT and questioning young people, this information can underscore the fact that their feelings and desires are in no way unique, and that others like themselves lead happy and productive lives. This in turn can spare them years of needless alienation, denial and suffering. For heterosexual students, this can provide the basis for appreciation of human diversity and help to interrupt the chain of bullying and harassment toward LGBTQ people, for in truth, very few real-life families resemble the mythical Brady Bunch, the Andersons in Father Knows Best, or the Huxtables of The Cosby Show.
No matter how loudly organizers on the political and theocratic Right protest that this is merely a "bedroom issue," we know that the bedroom is but one of the many places where we write our stories. Therefore, while each October (National LGBT History Month) is a good time to begin the classroom discussions, I ask that our full stories be told throughout the year. For what is true in AIDS education holds true for our history as well: "Silence = Death."