Real stories from the World - LGBTQ+

Bina from Australia

PREAMBLE: Australia, despite being one of the fairest, measurably most egalitarian and prosperous countries in the world has a nasty conservative streak that doesn't seem to want to die. 

Only 9% of Australians go to church, yet we are one of the only developed nations left to have a law against gay marriage. In material terms, immigrants fare better here in terms of wages and living conditions than many other multicultural nations, yet the image we project to the rest of the world is stingingly whitewashed; it is estimated that Australia is 18 years behind the USA in terms of media diversity. 

As someone who grew up bisexual and of a mixed face family in Australian, I had a very complex identity to negotiate, and never really felt like I had a niche anywhere. My queerness put me at odds with the girls at the predominantly South-Asian school my parents had deliberately moved near to ensure I wouldn't be the only person of colour - much like blacks in San Francisco who move to Oakland for the same reason. Yet my Indian-ness put me at odds with the cool, queer friendly white kids from other schools I desperately tried to win the approval of. I did not realise just how deeply these battle lines were forged until last year when I wrote a letter to my old school's principal after the proposed Safe Schools program, which would have provided a practical and symbolic win for the nations' growing push for LGBT inclusiveness, was pulled at the eleventh hour due to pressure from that powerful conservative lobby. 

This is my letter:

Dear Ms Lyris I write to you as a former student of Strathfield Girls High School, graduating in 2003. I now live in London with my husband and young son. Prior to moving overseas, I worked in various public sector roles that focussed on young people at risk, most recently as the Youth Liaison Officer at the NSW Ombudsman's Office. There is a good deal of distance between me and my high school, both geographically and in terms of years passed. But news of high-profile attacks on the Safe Schools program by the Australian Federal Government and segments of the Australian community has brought back powerful memories of my teen years. 

Part of what compelled me to a career in youth advocacy was my deep and visceral empathy for young people who feel that they are different. According to the Safe Schools website, Strathfield Girls High School is not a member of the program. I write to you in a personal capacity to encourage you to consider adopting this important initiative. Like more and more young people are feeling confident to admit, I was and am same sex attracted, knowing from a very young age that I was romantically interested in both boys and girls. 

Despite the fact that when I attended SGHS, 90% of students came from a non-English speaking background, often from families that were socially conservative, this was overwhelmingly not an issue for me at school. In fact, my classmates were probably more scandalised by my dalliances with boys than my interest in girls, but that's another story. That said, I have very distinct memories of being called names and teased in my early years of high school, of rumours spread about me and about my classmates saying hurtful things like not wanting to share a change room with me. Some of them said they had religious objections to my bisexuality. 

I recall very clearly a lesbian speaker that was invited to our school assembly to talk about her experiences growing up same-sex attracted. It generated quite a bit of conversation, most of it positive, and most of it simply curious. Diversity in sexual orientation was also discussed in PDHPE classes – I have no idea what it's called now. I also had gay teachers which I found to be a huge relief – teachers can have such a profound impact on students, particularly ones like me who really struggled to get along with people my own age. 

By year 12, no one batted an eyelid about my sexuality. I brought a girl to my Year 12 formal and I remember nothing but positivity from my peers. By that stage a number of other girls in my year and some of the other years had come out as well. When I recalled my experiences to many of my LGBTI friends at University, the responses ranged from wistfulness and mild envy to downright shock. So many, particularly those who had attended religious schools, had endured years of misery and shame. In the worst cases, homophobic bullying had severely disrupted their schooling, forcing them to drop out of school early or move away from less tolerant small towns to the city at a young age. Strathfield Girls, in my opinion, was well ahead of the curve. 

The fact that so many girls from my school came from families that didn't allow them to go to the cinema on the weekend, yet largely were unfussed about my bisexuality speaks volumes about the importance of initiatives taken by the school that acknowledged sexual and gender diversity and the overall culture of the school. It has made me so angry to see a program such as Safe Schools, which would provide a more coordinated resource for these otherwise largely piecemeal initiatives, under attack. I empathise deeply with young LGBTI students who are being spoken about like they are a dirty little secret to be stamped out and completely written out of the curriculum, during a time where they are at their most alone and vulnerable. 

As someone who is very proud of the fact I attended a public high school, I also feel compelled to say that I feel the attacks on Safe Schools is a tactic by the hugely influential Christian lobby and by extension advocates of independent schools, who are all to eager to paint public schools as morally bankrupt, "politically correct and values neutral" (to quote John Howard, the Prime Minister during my school years.) Particularly in light of the MySchool website which has overwhelmingly disproved the myth that non-government schools achieve better academic results when corrected for other variables, they are hoping to peddle this idea that their schools will shelter children from the diversity they know threatens their institutions. 

I am a grown woman, with mixed memories of high school, as I imagine most people have. But I am hopeful that the school I went to, that you are now in charge of, has been true to my better memories of it – that it was a place where girls learned critical skills in mixing with people who were different from them, who had different religious beliefs, or different cultural backgrounds, or different aspirations, or even different sexualities. I remember it as a school that was progressive, that took the initiative in educating people about LGBTI students even in the face of the challenges faced by a socially conservative demographic. I remember it as a place where the early homophobia I endured was largely stamped out, thanks to committed educators who took to heart the values of public schooling as a vital tool for creating a more harmonious and cohesive society. I hope there is a place for Safe Schools at my old school, for me, and everyone like me. 

Yours sincerely, Bina Bhattaharya Class of 2003