So far, my children are fucking adorable. I am mostly teaching girls this year...which just makes life easier.

Last year I had predominantly male classes and the problem with that is that fifteen-year-old boys are just in constant pissing competitions with each other. It's true.

This year, I am teaching the same course to students who have the same reading levels...but they're mostly girls. The thing about girls is that they're not really there to impress each other with how badass they can be. They mostly just chatter a lot. And then look like they're going to cry when I tell them to shut up.

I have already been asked, though, twice if I am gay. I would love just to be able to shout "YES! What of it?!" but since life just isn't that fair, I have to play this game:

kid: are you gay?
me: would it make a difference
kid: no.
me: then don't worry about it.

OR

kid: are you gay
me: that's a personal question. I don't answer personal questions.

Now...if they had any sense, they could figure it out. But they don't. They are, for the most part, sorely lacking in any kind of sense of the world. This is because they're fourteen.

I know that being a lesbian is fairly irrelavent to anything that I need to do in the classroom (much like the fact that I am a Christian or that I have obsessive-compulsive disorder). All my students really need to know about me is my name and we can function as a class. I am not there to be their friend.

But part of why I consider myself a lesbian and don't just say something like "I love who I love and bed who I want" is because being a lesbian is a choice.

No, I'm not suggesting that we have any choice over whom we love or whom we find attractive. I only wish it were that simple. But I choose to identify as lesbian; my choice is to live openly as a lesbian. Me being a lesbian is more than me having sex with women and it is even more than me falling in love with women more readily than men (and I would never share that info with my class. it's inappropriate anyway. I probably wouldn't even mention a girlfriend -- though straight teachers OFTEN mention a husband/wife or significant other which is inappropriate but that's a thing for another time): it is a cultural identity.

So is it really ethical of me to hide my cultural identity from my students? I would never outrightly deny my sexuality -- and if, like last year, I were continually pressed I would generally be like "yup."

Because you can only deflect with "does it matter?" or "that's a personal question" before they figure it out. And then the deflection looks like denial -- as if it's something of which I am/should be ashamed. And I'm totally not.

It is very hard to include certain parts of my life (I have a brother. I went to college in Kansas. I am proficient in Latin.) that really have nothing to do with teaching English in my classroom discussion from time to time but not this one thing that means about twenty times more to me than any of those little unnecessary details. Part of my cultural identity becomes this elephant that sits in the corner of my mind. How long before that elephant begins to suffocate me?

And lest you think my reasons about really wanting to be out have to do with my own comfort level...

I really think that it is important for kids to know openly gay people. This is especially true for my students who are largely
Hispanic and African American
from Harlem/Washington Heights/Inwood/The Bronx
products of traditionally homophobic cultures/neighborhoods/religions

Many of them learn early on in life that gay = bad and it would be irresponsible of me not to try to present the opposite side. Ultimately, if they want to stay homophobic they will; if they really believe that it is a sin or that it is just disgusting, I can't change it. But if they simply never met any other thought or belief, then I might be remiss in my duties as an educator.

Moreover, it is important (especially for the students who might be very privately and timidly exploring and questioning their own sexual identities) that they have strong, diverse and ultimately fairly average homosexual/bisexual/transgender role models.

Yes, some people in this community are drag queens or broadway stars or members of N'Sync. But we are also senators and mechanics and lawyers and doctors.

And some of us are teachers.

This has been an overly long and underly eloquent rant...so I will spare you further excavation of my jumbled thoughts. But it's out there.