In my personal life, I consider myself out and proud to everyone I know, including colleagues. So why is it that I have never felt comfortable enough to be open and honest about who I love to the young people I have taught? 

Having taught across a range of institutions, from a secondary school in Manchester to primary schools in London, plus teaching English in Spain, I have frequently batted away questions from pupils about whether or not I have a boyfriend, who I live with or if I am married.

Although some may argue that this is not the business of the children I teach, I still feel an overwhelming mix of emotions when I invariably give them vague answers or awkward jokey replies about how they shouldn’t ask their teacher such questions.

On occasions, these moments have left lingering feelings of shame and disappointment that I am not brave enough to tackle these topics with children whom I know respect and look up to me. 

LGBT+: The legacy of Section 28

One time in the playground, when I was working as a teaching assistant, an 11-year-old student jokingly commented that a popular boy band were “all gay”, as if it was a negative thing. I asked him why he thought this, challenging him on these opinions and telling him that “I have gay friends and they are just normal people”. 

Although I forget my exact wording in this moment, the feeling of shame that I had not properly used this as an opportunity to be honest with him about myself, and instead defaulted to comments about “people I know”, still lingers in my memory. 

The feeling that by staying silent I am not doing enough to help personally contribute to LGBT+ education is one that will come back to me often over my years teaching. I know I am not alone in this discomfort - and this is where the after-effects of Section 28 continue to be felt by teachers like me. 

Although progress has certainly been made since Section 28 was repealed, and LGBT+ organisations like Just Like Us are working hard to champion equality in schools, a more concerted, proactive approach to teaching equality needs to be taken. Merely getting rid of something does nothing substantial to change the status quo. 

Of course, we all know that Section 28 forced many teachers not just into the closet but actively made them too scared to be themselves. However, what many people probably do not realise is that in 2021 - years after it was repealed - the echo of Section 28 can still be felt in schools. And LGBT+ teachers still feel afraid as a result.

Fear of backlash

Children who may be LGBT+ or are part of LGBT+ families need to know that school is a safe place for them. According to independent research carried out this year by the LGBT+ charity Just Like Us, LGBT+ children are twice as likely as other children to worry daily about their mental health. 

I feel strongly that this needs to be tackled at primary level, so that we normalise LGBT+ families and individuals and foster values of respect and equality from a young age. 

Fears around the “sexualisation” of children are hugely misplaced, and we must work to dispel these myths and provide simple, transparent access to what will be taught to children. Inclusive education in primary schools is simply about acknowledging and celebrating that different types of families exist. It would mean being honest about being a lesbian mum if I became a parent one day, for example - much like straight teachers might mention their children without much of a thought.

Let’s give children some credit: if they can understand on a non-sexual level that mums and dads fall in love, then they are completely capable of understanding that two adults, regardless of sex, can also fall in love. 

Nevertheless, many teachers still shy away from including concepts of sexual orientation and gender in their curriculum, because they’re (understandably) concerned about framing it in the right way. I feel all schools must provide staff with support on effectively broaching these topics and what kind of language they can use to feel confident in these discussions. 

Little by little, I am trying to be more open in small ways - such as casually making reference to my girlfriend to parents I feel confident with, or feeling bolder about holding hands with her when I’m in an area where pupils and parents might see me. 

We all have a duty to show children who may be LGBT+ or have LGBT+ families that it’s OK to be themselves and that their school is a safe place for them to learn.

Ultimately, I don’t come out to pupils because of fear of backlash from parents. As much as I feel appreciated and accepted at my school, it will take a more proactive effort to ensure that teachers know directly that if they choose to come out, they will be supported and backed up by the school. I’m looking into plans to take part in School Diversity Week, run by charity Just Like Us, and to just be more honest with my pupils about who I am.

I believe that we should promote teaching values of kindness, respect and tolerance to all people, and that children have an inalienable right to be themselves. 

Charlie Davies is a Year 3 primary teacher in East London