Teachers in Christian schools care deeply about students’ well-being and growth in discipleship to Jesus. When faced with tough questions about sexuality and gender, we want to do what’s right, what will help students flourish, but the path to that end isn’t always clear or easy. In this piece, I offer some thoughts on the terrain, sparked by the experiences of three LGBT+ students. Here’s the first:
It’s hard to put myself back in the shoes of my 18-year-old self: timid, self-conscious, and scared of myself. It’s more than weird to revisit this space: it’s unpleasant. High school had been rough. The worst part wasn’t the total lack of understanding, the lack of caring, the comparisons to pedophiles, the suggestions of total depravity, the insinuation that the death penalty might be appropriate. I think the worst part is that no one has ever said sorry for circling “true” on a question for our senior Bible class exam: Do homosexuals go to hell? I was 17 and the only one in my class to circle “false” (Post-Baptist Baptist).
These are the words of a young gay man reflecting on his Christian school career. Although many Christian schools are making good progress in caring for sexual minority students, this alum’s experience is, unfortunately, still echoed in the lives of many students. While the Bible teacher may have intended to teach a clear biblical sexual ethic in this quiz, what was actually taught—and reinforced by the social milieu—was shame, secrecy, and exclusion. The teacher was not alert to the presence and vulnerability of LGBT+ students or to the pastoral and pedagogical sensitivity required by the topic.
Such experiences bred self-hatred in this particular student as he internalized the homophobic attitudes around him. He relates how six years later, after graduating from a Christian college, “I figured out that I like who I am. That I wasn’t the problem. . . . Finding out that you actually like who you are after years of hating yourself is the greatest gift.” Imagine the difference if this teacher, instead of communicating that students were going to hell for attractions they didn’t choose and couldn’t change, had quietly chosen to display a poster discouraging homophobic slurs? (The one I have in my office is from http://alisonrowan.com/buy-a-dictionary)
Community
One of the best practices for improving school climate for LGBT+ youth is to establish a group where sexual and gender minority students can support and encourage each other under the oversight of a trusted staff member. The school-wide awareness and visibility afforded by such a group can significantly decrease bullying and harassment. In a national study, the presence of a Gay Straight Alliance was related to greater feelings of safety for the general student body, with an even greater improvement in safety for LGBTQ students (Greytak et al.). Given that anti-LGBT hostility from peers is often expressed in religious terms, Christian high schools face a particular burden—and challenge—to create such groups. Far from being a sell-out to progressive sexual mores, such a move is a way to promote the safety, success, and mental health of LGBT+ students by fostering community and connection with supportive staff. At its most basic, it is a suicide-prevention measure. More positively stated, a student group can be a forum for exploring students’ questions and identity development within a Christian context. It also provides an avenue for the school to access the concerns and needs of this student population.
School Climate
A student group by itself, however, may have limited effect unless accompanied by school-wide efforts. One female student who identifies as queer writes,
In the first few weeks of high school, there were a lot of announcements for clubs. One was the GSA (Gay Straight Alliance). I never went, but based on club photos (which every club took), it wasn’t very well attended. During those first few weeks, I was at a cafeteria table with some people from my youth group, and two of the guys started loudly talking about going to the GSA meeting “just to get in the way.” These were big, muscular guys, and they wanted to go to the GSA meeting to intimidate people. While I went to a public school, it was in a small town that was something of a conservative Christian enclave (the Christian club at our school was huge, and it often met publicly in a hallway rather than a classroom). When these guys started sharing their idea, a lot of the other youth group members thought it was funny or perhaps even fun. I don’t know if they ever went through with it, but I know that many others in the cafeteria heard the threats.
The GSA at this school likely provided a valuable space for students courageous enough to attend. But to others it represented a target for harassment. How might the school in this instance have dealt with the climate of hostility toward the GSA? Policy and education need to go hand in hand. A school’s anti-harassment policy should name sexual orientation and gender as protected categories, and educating students proactively in this area will encourage students to report harassing behavior.
The cafeteria incident also exposes the shadow of toxic masculinity that fuels much of the homophobia we see today. In Man Enough: How Jesus Redefines Manhood, Nate Pyle challenges Christians to recognize that our culture’s glorification of machismo is a far cry from the biblical example seen in the father of the prodigal son and supremely in the suffering of Jesus Christ. In our schools, boys’ athleticism, competitiveness, and success must be consciously and repeatedly decoupled from violence, aggression, and the demeaning of people or activities deemed too “feminine.” As Paul writes to Titus, “Remind the people . . . to be ready to do whatever is good, to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and always to be gentle toward everyone” (Titus 3:1–2). These virtues are for all believers, regardless of gender.
“I’m a Normal Person”
Some of the toughest questions in Christian schools today concern transgender students. Teachers and administrators may worry about students’ safety and social interactions, the use of a new name or pronouns, restroom and locker room accommodations, angry parents, bad press, or even the possibility of a lawsuit. A transgender student may have many of the same concerns, though lawsuits and school reputation are unlikely to be high on their list. Rather than reiterate the advice given on this topic in a previous CEJ issue (see VanderWal-Gritter), I invite you to listen with me to the reflections of one particular transgender student currently attending a Christian college.
In my own friend group, my peer group, there are two people who say some pretty homophobic, transphobic stuff—and I just don’t care enough to call it out, because it’s just exhausting.
I think it’s a different type of exhaustion, like before [coming out] . . . it was exhausting to constantly be hiding, but I’m not worried about how people are receiving it because it’s just all in my brain, rumbling around there, so it’s just exhausting to hold it in and that showed itself in various patterns, but I could cope with it. But now [being out] it’s exhausting because, as far as I know, I’m the most active and out trans person on campus. . . . I think it’s a little frustrating for me being the only binary trans person and not really having a community of people who kinda “get” that narrative.
The best responses have been the ones that are just like, “Ok, cool,” and then just go on our merry way and don’t try to overwhelmingly . . . have pity or sympathy or anything, because it’s just like, that doesn’t help. I’m a normal person, just drink your stupid cup of coffee with me.
Isolation and weariness stand out in this account: being the only one, peers who don’t understand, and exchanging the exhaustion of the closet (with its hiding and mental stress) for the exhaustion of being a known minority of one. Yet alongside the stress, we hear resilience in the face of significant challenges, and we see a student who wants to be treated as a human person, not as an occasion for fear or pity. Teachers can play an important role in encouraging resilience in gender-atypical students, who may well face difficulties in later life with employment, housing, and in church communities (James et al., 18). Knowing that God loves and is for our students is the greatest source of courage and hope we can offer.
As we listen to stories like the three shared above, it’s important to remember that they don’t represent the experience of all lesbian, gay, queer, or transgender students. LGBT+ students are as varied and diverse as any other group. But these reports hopefully remind us to prioritize listening to the students who are navigating such issues daily.
The Wider Community
In addition to listening to students, how does a school communicate with parents, donors, and trustees about LGBT+ matters? Silence may feel like the safest default, but it inevitably leaves both school and parents scrambling unprepared when a serious student need arises. Ideally, a school would initiate ongoing dialogue with parents and other constituents, modeling thoughtful Christian engagement. Resources such as The Colossian Way (a supported small-group experience helping Christians explore LGBT+ questions in a way that builds up love for God and neighbor) or the film Through My Eyes (featuring the stories of gay Christian youth) can help foster a more informed and less fearful approach to LGBT+ students among school staff, parents, and other stakeholders. Parents who are unsupportive of their child’s identification as LGBT+ may need help to appreciate the risks children in such situations face, including depression, self-harm, running away or being ejected from home, and suicidal behavior. Parents who are supportive, on the other hand, may want the school to make changes the community is not ready to accept. These are delicate situations requiring prayer, respect, and collaboration. Having a small team of administrators and staff who are knowledgeable about LGBT+ student needs—including the teacher supporting the school’s LGBT+ student group—offers the opportunity to pool wisdom, share the load, and consider the needs of all parties.
Christian Imagination
Schools that operate within the historic Christian teaching on marriage need not give up that framework, but they will need to hold it graciously. An important aspect of a gracious posture is attending to the wider imaginative frame. When the teaching gets tough, it’s all too easy to react out of our own anxieties (whether prompted by allegiances on the right or left) and imagine ourselves within a narrative of war, disaster, rebellion, or bigotry. Such metaphors promote division rather than shalom. Can we instead train our Christian imaginations to acknowledge the complex combination of love, pain, wisdom, and conflict inherent in the domain of human sex and gender? Jenell Paris offers one such re-imagining:
When we treat the sex/gender domain as something vulnerable true, valuable, and living, we ask questions other than the binary questions. . . . We ask questions like those we’d ask about a baby we love. How are we holding it? How are we carrying it? Is it maturing and doing alright? When we hear it cry, we respond with the vigilance of a mother, discerning the need of the moment, mobilizing for right response. We expect to do this constantly for the foreseeable future, and see it as honorable, dignifying, loving work. (33)
We are reminded of the virtues required to nurture people and conversations well for the long term. We are reminded of the deeply personal, human, and communal implications of conflicts over sex and gender, and that love is patient and kind. We are also reminded that there are no easy boundaries of “us” versus “them.” As Paris explains, “This conflict is our baby. We are the baby. We are the ones who carry it” (57).
For LGBT+ students who may be experiencing shame because of a Bible quiz, fear of cafeteria bullies, or exhaustion at being the only one with their particular experience, the kind and patient response of just one teacher can make a vital difference. And the kind, patient, and proactive engagement of the school has the potential to teach many a “more excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31 NKJV).
Works Cited
“The Colossian Way Experience.” http://colossianforum.org/the-colossian-way-experience.
Greytak, E. A., et al. From Teasing to Torment: School Climate Revisited. GLSEN, 2016, https://www.glsen.org/sites/default/files/TeasingtoTorment%202015%20FINAL%20PDF%5B1%5D_0.pdf.
James, S. E., et al. “The Report of the 2015 U.S. Transgender Survey.” National Center for Transgender Equality, 2016, http://www.transequality.org/sites/default/files/docs/usts/USTS%20Full%20Report%20-%20FINAL%201.6.17.pdf.
Paris, Jenell. The Good News about Conflict: Transforming Religious Struggle over Sexuality. Wipf & Stock, 2016.
Post-Baptist Baptist, The. “Until Each One is Free.” Blog post. April 14, 2017. https://thepostbaptistbaptist.com/2017/04/14/update/.
Pyle, Nate. Man Enough: How Jesus Redefines Manhood. Zondervan, 2015.
“Through My Eyes: True Stories of Young Gay Christians.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QImNx1JA3BI.
VanderWal-Gritter, Wendy. “Navigating Transgender Journeys.” Christian Educators Journal 55, no. 3 (2016): 13–16.
Julia Smith serves as Sexuality Series director and works to support LGBT+ students at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan.