Chelsea, who asked that their last name not be published, is a 14-year-old Black, queer seventh grader who hasn’t yet decided if, when or how to come out to their family. Now, with a new bill that’s moving through the Florida legislature, they fear that educators at their Broward County middle school will have to make that decision for them.
The Parental Rights in Education bill, commonly dubbed the “Don’t Say Gay” bill, would prohibit schools from “encouraging classroom discussion about sexual orientation or gender identity in primary grade levels” and require administrators and educators to notify parents of any expressed change in a student’s “mental, emotional, or physical well-being.”
As a result, students are worried that schools would be obligated to tell parents if their child is questioning their sexuality or identity. In many cases, a supportive school community is a young person’s only refuge from an adversely harmful home environment. Kids that identify as LGBTQ may refrain from coming out to their parents for a number of reasons, including fears of being rejected, abused or even kicked out of their homes.
“If a child self harms or attempts to commit suicide, a counselor has to tell the parents about it,” Chelsea said. “To have that same reaction when a kid just tells you they’re queer, it really sets the narrative.”
Republican Sen. Dennis Baxley first filed SB 1834 in January. It later received initial approval by a 6-3 majority in the Florida Senate Education Committee Feb. 8, with only Democratic members casting dissenting votes.
Some of the discussion had to do with the particulars of the bill’s text as senators questioned phrases they deemed to be too vague. For instance, critics are concerned that the reference to “primary grade levels” can extend to middle and high school, when human growth and development become increasingly relevant, while others are confused whether the bill would eliminate the possibility for associated guidance and group counseling, such as that which is offered through a school’s gay-straight alliance (GSA).
Limiting what’s taught in the classroom
In any case, students and allies are afraid of the repercussions that come with removing LGBTQ history from a curriculum.
Echo, a Black 17-year-old gender-nonconforming Miami-Dade high school student who asked that their legal name not be used, remembers learning about anti-sodomy laws and the 1969 Stonewall riots, which helped spark the LGBTQ rights movement throughout the nation. They said students were shocked in class that day, never having heard about either topic.
“It’s just like, so much about the queer community is not known to people, and school is supposed to be a place where you learn – not where your teacher holds your hand throughout history [lessons] just so that you don’t feel bad,” Echo said.
Chelsea believes that learning about pertinent history encourages straight and cisgender kids to sympathize with and treat LGBTQ peers fairly. Still, to them, publicly discussing these matters is more than a tool to combat ignorance; it also serves as an opportunity for queer youth to observe the dispositions of those around them and proceed with caution.
“Even if the lessons aren’t informing people,” they said, “it allows you to be safer because you know which people are safe to be around. A lot of times, when you see someone’s reaction and it’s like a sneer or something vulgar, you go: ‘OK, I’m just going to dull myself down around this person,’ and as much as it’s sad to say, it’s the truth.”
Still, Gov. Ron DeSantis has expressed his support for the bill, insisting that classroom discussions should be tethered to the basics, such as math, science and reading.
But Orlando Gonzales, executive director at SAVE Dade and a Latino gay man himself, says the bill’s labeling of LGBTQ history as inappropriate only serves to sexualize an already challenged community.
“If they want a prohibition on sex, then just name that,” he said. “By specifically naming sexual orientation and gender identity, that’s the first flag that goes off and says that this is about discrimination.”
Founded in 1993, SAVE Dade is a grassroots organization that advocates on behalf of LGBTQ individuals. SB 1834 is listed on its website as a bill to oppose alongside H 1557, a similar legislation by the same name that was introduced to the House of Representatives and sponsored by Florida Republican representatives Joseph Harding and David Borrero.
Moving backward on a slippery slope
Karla Hernández-Mats, a middle school teacher and president of United Teachers of Dade, says the new bill goes to show how disconnected Florida lawmakers are from what’s really happening at the forefront of education. One issue she’s particularly concerned with is the shortage of teachers that’s plagued the state as a result of the pandemic.
According to the proposed law, a parent has the right to file a lawsuit against a school or educator that they suspect has violated these new regulations. Hernández-Mats fears this may deter potential teachers from pursuing the career.
“We’re deputizing a community,” she said. “We’re saying that a community at any given time, if they feel uncomfortable or if they feel that you’ve said something that’s pertinent to this law, they can now take you to court. What kind of educator in their right mind would want to enter a career with this many restrictions and so much coercion against them?”
Along with the fear for kids who rely on a supportive environment outside of their homes, Pridelines CEO Victor Diaz-Herman mirrored the concern for teachers, worrying that LGBTQ educators may have to repress their identities and perhaps even go back into the closet as a way of avoiding potential discussions of sexual orientation and gender identity.
He says this kind of legislation is nothing but a step in the wrong direction, comparing the new bills to Anita Bryant’s “Save Our Children” campaign, which opposed the movement for gay rights and served as the foundation for Pridelines in 1982.
“It’s just so problematic in so many ways, and it comes from a place of uninformed individuals who are playing politics at the risk of young people’s lives,” Diaz-Herman said.
He believes the bill would open the floodgates for other harmful legislation, citing the “Stop W.O.K.E. Act” and what he referred to as the “license to discriminate in health care” bill.
“If we can get away with ‘Don’t Say Gay’ in the schools, then all of a sudden all these other bills that are just as problematic become easier. It’s like a gateway, and we can’t let this happen as a community,” he said.
The Parental Rights in Education bill comes less than a year after the state’s decision to ban critical race theory from schools. Echo and Chelsea, who are faced with the intersectionality of being Black and queer, both worry that removing the histories of oppressed groups is becoming far too normalized.
“[These bills] are just maintaining a status quo that we need to change, and education is one of the only ways to actually change it,” Chelsea said.
“With the ‘Don’t Say Gay’ bill and the attempt to ban critical race theory in schools, personally it feels like my whole existence is inappropriate for schools,” Echo added. “If it can’t be taught or even talked about, I feel like it’s just going to make a whole group of people feel like they’re the problem, and not the school system.”