I had been very comfortably out of the closet for quite a few years with family and friends and was, by the time I gained QTS, in a long term relationship with my now husband (16 years this month and counting!). Throughout my degree and PGCE it was a non-issue. But back in 2004 when I gained my first job, a bit of a conundrum seemed to present itself when I was asked a simple question by someone I loved and trusted. “Are you going to tell them you’re gay?”

It sort of hadn’t crossed my mind. “Just don’t mention it to the children and if they ask, tell them it’s private.” Back then, times were a bit different.

It was before the advent of pre-watershed, positive LGBT visibility and many people’s experience of a gay person was limited to the flamboyant and often crass examples of popular comedians, whose acts were generally a parody of gayness. It kind of made sense to me back then, because I definitely wouldn’t be able to be totally open so it was best not to mention it at all. "In fact, I just wouldn’t tell anyone at your school. It’s no one’s business but your own anyway...”

That conversation totally changed my experience of the first four years of my teaching career. I remained closeted and protected my "secret" with ninja-like precision. I would fabricate my weekend’s activities, to make them seem "straight". I would pretend I’d been out to the pub with mates, or to see a film, or at a family birthday or something. The hardest thing of all was feeling on edge when my husband and I were out in public. At that point in my life and career, I would insist that he immediately walk away if we bumped into someone I knew through work. I‘d literally push him away in the supermarket and scan the aisle ahead like I was on an SAS mission, when in fact I was just out to pick up a pint of milk and a Sunday paper.

'I was closeted for four years'

It was my original intention to not come out straight away when I joined my first school, but once I had got to know my colleagues and they had got to know me a little, I would then tell them I was gay. But, as anyone who’s been in this position would likely agree, the longer the lie perpetuated, the harder and harder it became to be open and truthful. I was closeted for four years.

My lifelong ambition to be a teacher was turning out to be a damaging reality. I loved the children and all the bits in the classroom, but I conducted myself so carefully and self-consciously, that I knew wholeheartedly I wasn’t the best teacher I could be, because only about 60 per cent of myself was in the room.

It was in about February of 2008 that I came out to my most trusted colleagues. Why? Because I was getting hitched! I think the reality of it was that I simply couldn’t hold it in any more. It took courage, and was actually fuelled by four or five glasses of wine, if memory serves me right. To this day, I’m grateful to my colleagues for their immediate support. Several seemed genuinely surprised. I think my efforts to fabricate my "straight" persona were fairly convincing, but their surprise quickly subsided into support and acceptance. Others were less easily fooled and were almost euphoric that I’d finally done it. “I was beginning to think you were just a sad, lonely cat-person who didn’t have any friends or social life,” said one colleague. Quite a few of them came to our wedding reception that summer and celebrated with me as a whole person, rather than half a colleague.

In 2010, after six years in the classroom, I was promoted to my deputy headship in a new school. I had decided long before that I would be "out" from the beginning and I made a concerted effort to nonchalantly mention my husband to our growing team, as everyone else that was partnered did. It was seamless. I truly felt that the comfort and ease of discussions in the staff room and classroom with my colleagues made me happier and that, of course, made me a better teacher and school leader.

While many parents of the school knew I was gay, I never addressed it with them directly. I stopped myself from the nonchalant mentions about my weekend with them, largely because I was still under the belief that my lifestyle wasn’t understandable or translatable to children. Adults, yes, children, no. It just wasn’t the done thing...It might confuse them, or – in the eyes of the growing minority – negatively affect them some way.

Coming out to everyone (including the kids) 

When I assumed my headship I took the decision to be out to everyone and it was the best decision I ever made – not just for the positive impact on my own experience. I mentioned my private life to colleagues, parents and children no more or no less than a heterosexual person in my position would. The children were positively nonplussed about it. To begin with, I used to watch for a reaction on their faces that rarely, if ever, came.

For those with conservative (outdated!) views, who hold the stance of “I don’t have to tell everyone about being straight, so why should you tell everyone you’re gay,” I would challenge you to keep a tally of how many times in a single day that your words and actions promote your lifestyle choices, unintentionally: the little photo of your children on your desk, the mention of the lovely meal you had with your spouse during idle conversation in the staff room, the wedding ring on your finger. Can you imagine censoring all of that, very consciously, every minute of every working day? It isn’t right. Being open at work is not political – it’s a vital expression of the diversity of humanity that our children absolutely need to be reflected within their inner circle.

I could not be more proud, thankful and committed to that school. It was a family, in every sense of the word and it quickly became a safe, inclusive and loving venue for all of us: staff, pupil, parent, community.

Don't be ashamed to be you

Right now, there will be a child in your class or school who is gay, or bi, or trans or whatever else they are. And, like the young-me, they will take their cues from your words, your actions, your authenticity. They deserve to know that their own truth has value, wholly and unapologetically. I cherish the thought that children in my school saw me as a successful, happy and passionate headteacher, who worked hard, cared about them, cracked a joke, upheld the rules and – was married to a man. And that was just that. No one thing precluded the other. I love that they were included, in some small way, during my journey to becoming a parent through adoption. When I was absent for adoption leave, they knew why. They were excited for me and so, so kind when my little boy came home to us. The cards and words of love and support from the whole school community was a real moment in my life that I’ll remember forever. And a moment that everyone, straight or otherwise, has the right to experience.

Education of diversity in a non-tokenistic manner is the responsibility of every educator, whatever your own beliefs or persuasions. We must never forget that, as much as the lessons we teach, who we are and how we authentically take the mantle of the educator has the power to influence young lives in ways we may not yet appreciate. So, don’t be afraid or ashamed to be you in the classroom. Laugh, cry, be kind, be present, focus on the children. Be professional but be human. You are wonderfully you, and that, friends, is enough.

John Newton is a previous headteacher and now education consultant. This blog was orginally posted here. John tweets at @JNEdu5.