exploring the challenges and opportunities of being a visible LGBT+ teacher

Schooling and sexuality

There are an estimated 50,000 LGBT+ teachers in the UK (Lee Citation2020). Although a range of international research into the experiences of LGBT+ teachers exists (Gray Citation2013; Braun Citation2011; King Citation2004; Lundin Citation2016), it predominately focuses on the lives of lesbian, gay and bisexual (LGB) teachers and largely presents their experiences as difficult, challenging or problematic. Schools are often experienced as cisgender heteronormative environments in which sexuality is not an appropriate topic for discussion (DePalma and Atkinson Citation2006), positioning LGBT+ subjects as a source of tension that threatens to reveal or disrupt these norms.

Despite the large number of LGBT+ teachers, there is limited quantitative data about their experiences. While it is important to be critical of self-report data such as that contained in the national surveys undertaken by the UK Stonewall charity researching secondary students’ experiences, these findings at least provide a headline understanding of the current school context. Stonewall’s reports have revealed incremental, yet small, improvements in general attitudes towards LGBT+ people and the decreasing use of homophobic language, yet show that a large percentage of LGBT+ students still experience discomfort due to their school environment. This discomfort is also evident in the LGBT+ teacher literature, where the negotiation between personal and professional identities is the focus (Formby Citation2013; DePalma and Atkinson Citation2009; Gray Citation2013).

Gray (Citation2013) argues that identifying as an LGB teacher often requires a careful negotiation between private and professional worlds, whereby LGB staff are left with three options: to not speak with anyone regarding their private life; to come out to other members of staff; to come out to both staff and students. Whatever a teacher’s decision, they are either left with invisibility or hyper-visibility, while being denied the ‘powerful position’ of simple visibility, a third option reserved only for the majority group (DePalma and Atkinson Citation2009). This continual negotiation of self means LGBT+ teachers often experience minority stress (Meyer Citation2003) and must consciously decide whether to remain invisible and therefore inauthentic, or to come out and fear being seen as different.

Connell’s quote demonstrates the shift in attitudes that can occur when teachers choose to come out, and where revealing a sexuality or gender that challenges the norms of cisgender heteronormativity can put the individual under a metaphorical spotlight that can erode their strengths as a teacher. As Gray (Citation2013) argues, the fear of repercussions or changing perceptions means LGBT+ teachers must constantly negotiate the ways in which they are able to be visible.

Visibility

DePalma and Atkinson’s outline of the choices that LGBT+ teachers make provides insight into the unenviable decision confronting many teachers: whether to be open about their sexuality or to hide it. Patai (Citation1992) argues that minority groups – often powerless or marginalised – can either remain silent and invisible, contributing to existing norms, or choose to attract surplus visibility. Surplus visibility here refers to the attention, warranted or not, that a member of a minority group attracts. This visibility can then create a shift in public perception and the individual may be perceived to accurately represent the entire minority group, providing an unjustified level of responsibility. Some may wish to attract this visibility and use it as an opportunity to challenge the status quo, whereas others may wish to remain invisible, particularly when visibility may be detrimental to the individual or may provide distraction to their education or career. When considering LGBT+ as the minority group, cisgender heteronormative expectations provide the backdrop that highlights this surplus visibility.

Pallotta-Chiarolli (Citation2010) has developed a more nuanced concept of visibility, considering types of visibility available from three perspectives. Although derived from research into bisexual young people and ‘queerly mixed’/polyamorous families, Pallotta-Chiarolli’s metaphors of visibility both mirror and develop a contemporary understanding of Patai’s (Citation1992) surplus visibility. The three types of visibility identified are passing (normalisation), bordering (negotiation) and polluting (non-compliance). Passing suggests hiding the unacceptable to fit in and be accepted within the status quo (largely in line with Patai’s definition of invisibility). Bordering suggests concealing or revealing aspects of identity depending on surroundings and context. Here, the presence of specific individuals and environments dictates the amount of visibility a person may be comfortable presenting. This type of visibility is particularly relevant when considering both the structured and serendipitous configurations of students, teachers and spaces in school settings. Polluting, despite its toxic undertones, is used by Pallotta-Chiarolli as a metaphor for ‘strength, agency and empowerment’ (62) and is central to disrupting existing structures and ways of thinking so as to create ‘emergent and empowering systems and structures’.

Coleman-Fountain (Citation2014) presents a counter ‘post-gay’ view, claiming sexuality should no longer be the defining feature of a person’s identity. Coleman-Fountain argues that some gay and lesbian people’s ‘ordinariness’ gives them access to ‘normalised’ forms of visibility, which Pennell (Citation2016) argues may even carry forms of capital. These ideas will be revisited later in this paper.

The visibility literature is therefore wide ranging and offers many important ideas for consideration. Firstly, unlike some protected characteristics, LGBT+ identities can be invisible, and thus for most LGBT+ teachers, a conscious decision must be made as to whether to be visible and to what extent. Secondly, visibility is contextually relevant, and influenced by a myriad of factors. Whichever forms of visibility LGBT+ teachers choose to adopt; the literature has shown that visibility is something that has to continually be navigated and measured. Visibility has both the power to be an emancipatory tool, and also an oppressive and exhausting one.

Photo elicitation

Photo elicitation is a somewhat underused method in educational research but has been used to enquire into topics including bullying and the experiences of LGBT+ students (Walton and Niblett Citation2013; Allen Citation2009, Citation2011; Joy and Numer Citation2017). Collier and Collier (Citation1986) are cited as some of the earliest adopters of photo elicitation, describing the method as an interview in which the informants and the interviewer discuss the photographs taken by participants, together. This not only allows the participant to articulate the reasons why they took each photograph; it also provides a springboard from which to explore issues in greater depth. This method helps remove some of the stress and uncertainty that participants may experience if they were subject of an interview alone – ‘instead their role can be one of expert guides leading the fieldworker through the content of the pictures’ (Collier and Collier Citation1986, 106).

Collier and Collier also argue that photo elicitation allows participants to somewhat detach from potentially sensitive issues. They suggest that this method gives participants the maximum degree of free association that would be possible within a structured interview, helping to ease any tension participants may feel in discussing their identity.. As well as the benefits photo elicitation provides in structuring interviews and reducing the anxiety of participants, Harper (Citation2002) argues that participants’ discussions of feelings and experiences may be more vivid and visceral when elicited this way. Harper describes the difference between this method and traditional interviews, in terms of the way participants respond to the ‘symbolic representations’ contained within the photographs.

By using photo elicitation, different layers of understanding can be gained to help connect ‘core definitions of the self’ to society, culture and history (Harper Citation2002). The method allows us to see spaces we would not otherwise have access to and calls attention to that which we cannot observe (Patton Citation2002).

The literature regarding visual methodologies makes it clear that photo elicitation could be an effective way to collect data for a study of this kind. Much of what I hoped to discuss with participants was not visual – it concerned invisible cisgender heteronormative assumptions. The importance of the photos, therefore, was less about what they displayed, but what the image represented, prompting discussion of the emotions and feelings participants experienced in these spaces. Because these feelings dissipate quite quickly, unprompted interviews are not always good at capturing them. Photo elicitation acknowledged participants as experts in their own lives, consequently giving them a sense of empowerment that provided rich insights into their lived experiences as LGBT+ teachers. Coupled with the fact that teachers are encouraged to be reflective practitioners, this method provided opportunities for them to examine their lived experiences in ways that many of them had not before. It also made participants both creators and interpreters in the research.

Data collected

This paper presents a selected case study based on a larger study with LGBT+ secondary teachers, sharing the findings of three participants: Alfie, James and Amy. The participants have been chosen as the focus for this paper as they present views that both develop and challenge some of the existing literature in this field.

Two of the participants were also trans, offering rich insights from an underrepresented LGBT+ group in academic literature. Participants were recruited through a combination of volunteer and snowball sampling using Twitter and professional networks such as LGBTed. Ethical approval for the study was granted by Nottingham Trent University’s Ethics Committee and participants gave informed consent to take part in the research, understanding they could withdraw at any time. Participants’ photos and transcripts were anonymised and shared with them for approval before being included in the findings.

Participants took photos in their schools to represent the spaces in which they felt the most and least safe/visible and shared these prior to the interview for them to be printed. Participants did not need to seek permission from their school before taking the photos to prevent the need to potentially out themselves. Photos were not to contain students or signifiers that could identify the school to mitigate the need for consent. The photos were then discussed in one-to-one interviews which were recorded and fully transcribed. The transcribed interviews were then thematically coded and analysed using NVivo to identify key themes.

The embodied LGBT+ teacher

Braun’s study of trainee teachers and their concern of what an embodied teacher should look like helps illustrate a key theme from the interviews. The bodies of teachers tend to be fairly invisible in education (O’Loughlin Citation2006) yet proved to be a prominent theme in discussion of LGBT+ visibility. Not just the body; the voice, behaviour, mannerisms, and dress were all key considerations in the embodiment and visibility of the participants. For some, it was important their bodies and behaviour were congruent with cisgender heteronormative expectations. For others, their difference was a source of empowerment.

James

James was a 26-year-old Religious Studies (RS) teacher who had recently returned to work at the Catholic school he attended as a child, after having had gender confirmation surgery. James’ body initially proved to be a source of tension within the school, and he was told not to address his gender identity with students, as this would be at odds with Catholic teaching. James’ recent surgery and ongoing testosterone treatment had placed his gender presentation in a state of flux. Despite presenting as male in dress and by name, it was evident to many that James was transitioning. This put James in a difficult position as he had been clearly instructed not to talk about his identity, yet he felt it necessary to address his body that raised questions about gender (Reimers Citation2020). He shared a photo (Figure 1) to explain how he had addressed this.

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Figure 1.

James felt not addressing the situation would have undermined his ability to form strong relationships with the students. James took it upon himself to address the issue in a proactive and positive way. This allowed students to ask personal questions, whilst he controlled the conversation by vetting them as they were selected. He felt this was an important way of being visible, addressing misconceptions, and building relationships with different groups of students. By sharing personal information, he was able to develop trust and credibility quickly, that if left unaddressed, would have continued to place his body as a source of tension against the cisgender expectations of a Catholic School.

James’ self-imposed necessity to address his gender with his group was a potentially risky decision, however, especially since it required him to go against the wishes of the school. However, it allowed him to challenge students’ expectations of what an embodied teacher, especially an RS teacher, should look like. Braun (Citation2011) theorises that ‘traditional’ embodiments of teachers are ultimately superficial and can potentially ‘be ignored if authority and identity in school is available through other channels, such as respect given because of knowledge’ (284). James’ visibility as a trans teacher provided an opportunity to present ‘authority and identity’ in a way unavailable to others, and for him, was a platform from which to challenge existing structures using a form of polluting visibility. James explained that nothing was said to him regarding his decision to be visible and open with students, despite being told not to at interview, but the dilemma was stressful. James’ experience of stress, as well as a desire to be visible and a role model, helps us to conceptualise what polluting visibility can look and feel like.

Pallotta-Chiarolli (Citation2010, 62) defines polluting visibility as a metaphor for ‘strength, agency and empowerment’. While such a description may sound combative and potentially hostile, James described how he had been able to use his identity as a trans teacher to very gently, but very radically, pollute and progress the culture of his school. James was able to present a duality of ideas whereby he could develop his ‘authority and identity’ as both a successful RS teacher and as a confident out trans man. The success of his approach was evidenced by students empathising with him as a trans man, when asking if he could become a Catholic Priest.

James’ ability to be visible carried radical transformational possibilities. Through his relationships with students, James made them question their own views and beliefs, as demonstrated by the response that it would not be ‘fair’ for him to not be allowed to become a priest. He further demonstrated his acceptance by both staff and students by sharing a photo of the boys’ toilets (Figure 2) in school, explaining the significance of him being visible and validated within this strongly gendered space.

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Figure 2.

James spoke almost entirely positively of his experience as a trans teacher. His surplus visibility (Patai Citation1992) gave him a position of power, whereby he was able to have honest conversations with students and colleagues in ways that gently encouraged them to question their assumptions and beliefs about what a Catholic school and a Catholic education should be.

Alfie

Alfie was another teacher whose LGBT+ identity was visible. As a gay, cisgender man who described himself as ‘traditionally camp’ in both his voice and mannerisms, he thought it was ‘obvious’ he was gay. Consequently, like James, he felt the need to address this fact with students. Alfie worked in a secular school with a large majority of Muslim students. He shared a story about the importance of first impressions of an embodied teacher.

The girl’s aggressive outburst demonstrates a knee jerk reaction to a challenge to the heteronorm and, in turn, a policing of gender role expectations. This event provides a near perfect example of Connell’s description of how masculinity is created and maintained. ‘If a man fails to do masculinity appropriately for any given social situation, he may be socially sanctioned with hostile stares, laughter, or aggression’ (Connell Citation2015, 10). The student’s response demonstrates a deeply ingrained set of beliefs and expectations that male teachers should demonstrate a congruent masculinity. Encouragingly, this was the only example Alfie could recall relating to challenges of being visible with his students. Alfie explained how he handled the situation.

Alfie’s immediate sending out of the student out conveyed a powerful message that discriminatory behaviour was not going to be tolerated. He was then able to be simultaneously vulnerable in addressing his sexual identity with the group, yet authoritative by explaining how it could and should be appropriately addressed if students had an issue with it. Much like James, Alfie’s identity was immediately visible, and while he saw addressing this as a necessity, doing so provided an opportunity for Alfie to build trust and rapport with the group, diminishing the initial reactions.

Alfie shared another story that demonstrated the ways in which visibility is contextually contingent, and where bordering visibility often becomes necessary, or worse, required. Alfie had been praised by school leadership for being an openly gay member of staff who acted as a role model for other sexuality minority students. Despite this praise, Alfie’s visibility was problematic. Alfie’s school had a large percentage of Muslim students, and he described the ‘fear’ of some senior leaders and members of staff who thought his visibility as a gay teacher might cause problems with parents. In the following example, a colleague was talking to him about an upcoming parents’ evening.

Here, Alfie is being reminded that there may be limits to acceptance of his sexuality, and that he should in some way be ready to defend or shut down discussion of it. This example illustrates the powerful invisibility of heteronormativity, whereby heterosexuality remains assumed, yet ‘the whisper of another possibility is inevitably constructed as a scream’ (Atkinson and DePalma Citation2008, 33). The leadership team in Alfie’s school were happy to have him as a gay role model within the context of the school, but once this sphere widened to include parents, it was then deemed appropriate to silence the topic. Alfie therefore experienced a limited level of acceptance within the school’s heteronormative structure, rather than true inclusivity, which speaks to a school’s multiple dimensions and spaces. Heterosexuality provides frictionless movement between the spaces in a school. In this example, the inclusion and acceptance of homosexuality was place, time and audience specific, reminding Alfie that his visibility as a gay teacher had to be contextually appropriate.

Amy

Amy was the second trans teacher to take part in this study, but unlike James who was early in his transition, Amy had received extensive surgery to present fully as female. Amy worked in a reintegration school which students, often for medical reasons, attended for periods of time before aiming to return to mainstream school. As the school was designed to support students back into mainstream settings, it only had a small number of students and Amy commented that the students often asked quite personal questions. For Amy, her gender identity had been a lifelong challenge, one that she had struggled to put a voice to until her 50s. Amy spoke of the trauma this had caused her, to the point of having a breakdown.

For Amy, the process of finally being able to come out was a ‘great relief’ and meant she was able to present as the woman she had always felt herself to be. She had taken the decision to come out to her colleagues as a trans woman during her transition, but to be visible only as female with students, often referred to as stealth (Budge, Tebbe, and Howard Citation2010). Amy’s decision to remain ‘invisible’ as a trans woman in the eyes of students did not appear to be one that caused her anguish or anxiety, but one that validated her as a woman. Amy described initially transitioning, ‘I mean it’s scary, really scary just walking in, going out, walking into school’. Amy shared a photograph (Figure 3) of herself in her lab coat, running a science experiment with students, explaining how validated she felt at that time to be seen as a ‘typical science teacher’. In many ways, therefore, Amy was both visible and invisible. Amy’s stealth was the ultimate visibility in her eyes, yet it simultaneously rendered her invisible as a trans woman. Amy’s decision not to be visible as a trans teacher in the classroom was quite deliberate even to the extent of allowing students to believe she was in a heterosexual relationship, married to a man, rather than the truth which was that she had a wife.

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Figure 3.

For Amy, not being suspected to be transgender by students was a validating experience and was not something she wanted to address or be more visible about. Her strategy also speaks to the pressure trans teachers feel to control and manage their gender expression within highly policed, cisnormative school environments (Ullman Citation2020). James had commented earlier in his interview that if it were not visibly obvious that he was a trans man, he was not sure he would have addressed the issue with students either. Amy explained that because of the kind of school she worked in, she thought that addressing her gender identity more openly would draw undue attention to the students and school.

Amy was acutely aware of the need for LGBT+ visibility in schools and was able to challenge and disrupt heteronormative expectations to provide an environment in which students felt safe to explore their sexual and gender identities. Amy talked about playing the board game ‘The Game of Life’ with students at the end of term and jokingly describing it as ‘the most heteronormative game the world has ever seen!’.

For Amy, presenting inclusivity and a removal of assumptions was important. She explained ‘we didn’t want to force a standard on them’, and although not visible as an LGBT+ role model herself, her lived experience motivated her to pollute the cisgender heteronormative expectations within the school to make it a more inclusive space for others.