Since schools first closed their doors more than a year ago, many students have felt adrift. But many LGBTQ students in particular have missed the sense of community that school provided them prior to the pandemic.
鈥淪chool is kind of a place where my queerness is able to manifest itself,鈥� said Nic Oke, a high school junior in Maryland who has been learning remotely since last March. 鈥淣ot having that escape of school where I can feel a bit more comfortable to express myself has been a bit difficult.鈥�
Oke, age 17 and a member of the national student council for the nonprofit GLSEN, is out as bisexual to his mom, but not to the rest of his family. He misses the socialization and support he received from his LGBTQ peers at school, especially in their diversity club鈥攁nd that鈥檚 not uncommon for students these days, educators and advocates say.
鈥淪chools are the most affirming environment that most LGBTQ youth have in their lives,鈥� said Amy Green, the vice president of research for the Trevor Project, a national group providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to LGBTQ young people. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 because of the people who are there: the teachers, the school nurses, the counselors, their friends. Folks who allow them the ability to be themselves.鈥�
Yet , about a third of school districts were still closed for in-person instruction. While some districts have since reopened their classroom doors this spring, others remain closed for what has now been more than a full year. Even in districts that have restarted in-person instruction, often the high schools remain closed or are only open a couple days a week.
While some LGBTQ students have enjoyed remote learning or found solace in not having to go into school buildings, it has left others without a place to be fully themselves.
Not being able to see your fellow LGBTQ students disrupts the community that LGBTQ youth build to survive, frankly.
Survey data show that while the pandemic and its impact on schools have taken a toll on most teenagers, they have especially affected those who identify as LGBTQ. A nationally representative survey of 2,000 high school students, conducted by the EdWeek Research Center between Jan. 29 and Feb. 11, found that 83 percent of LGBTQ teenagers said they are experiencing more problems in school than they did before the pandemic, compared to 69 percent of heterosexual high schoolers.
Even before the pandemic, LGBTQ youth experienced symptoms of depression than their heterosexual peers. Now, 30 percent of LGBTQ students said they feel too sad or down to focus on instruction, compared to 12 percent of heterosexual students, the survey found. LGBTQ students are also about twice as likely to say they are feeling physical symptoms of illness during class time, such as stomachaches or headaches, and that they鈥檙e distracted by anxieties, worries, and fears. They鈥檙e getting less sleep and are more likely to feel tired during class.
Also, 22 percent of LGBTQ students said their relationships with members of their family are more negative now than in January 2020. Only 12 percent of heterosexual students said the same.
鈥淸Some] kids are not out [at home] at all, or are in environments where they know they can鈥檛 be safe,鈥� said Amber Andrade, the principal at Paradise Valley Engineering Academy in Morgan Hill, Calif.
When educators have strong relationships with their LGBTQ students, they can be a supportive ear for problems at home, she added.
Making sure students have access to mental health support
Before taking the helm of her current elementary school in the fall, Andrade was a middle school principal and involved in the school鈥檚 club for LGBTQ students and allies. She has stayed in touch with several of her former students and has been texting them throughout the pandemic. Some are lonely, and Andrade will periodically check in, often sending them a positive quote. Others will message her about their problems at home, and Andrade will send them resources, including the phone number to a crisis text hotline.
鈥淭hat鈥檚 something parents aren鈥檛 really paying attention to鈥擺it looks like] they鈥檙e just texting a friend, but they could be texting a counselor,鈥� she said.
Text lines may be a particularly useful resource for LGBTQ teenagers, since just 17 percent said their school counseling program has helped them 鈥渁 lot鈥� when they used it, according to the EdWeek survey. Yet nearly half of LGBTQ students say they have felt like they needed mental health services both now and before the pandemic. Heterosexual students were more likely to say they have never felt like they needed those services or did for the first time during the pandemic.
Among the students who said they needed mental health counseling but didn鈥檛 utilize those services at their school, 27 percent of LGBTQ teenagers said it was because they didn鈥檛 trust the programs at school. Only 16 percent of heterosexual teenagers said the same.
Many LGBTQ students, especially those who are transgender or nonbinary, are afraid that school counselors won鈥檛 accept them for who they are and won鈥檛 understand them, Green said. She hears from teenagers who say, 鈥淚鈥檓 afraid that if I went, they鈥檇 try to change me. They鈥檇 try to convert me.鈥�
鈥淭here鈥檚 a lot of mistrust and fear among LGBTQ youth,鈥� she said.
That鈥檚 why it鈥檚 important for educators to signal that they鈥檙e supportive and accepting, advocates say. The typical signs in classrooms鈥攍ike a Safe Space sticker or a pride flag鈥攁re less obvious when students are remote. But there are still ways to make virtual spaces more inclusive.
For instance, Andrade said educators should make sure students have the ability to change their video display names during remote learning, so that transgender students don鈥檛 have to be identified by their name assigned at birth if it no longer applies to them. And there should be a place for students to add their pronouns, if they want to, which teachers can signal by adding their own pronouns to their video display. (In a normal school year, students could introduce themselves on their own terms, rather than potentially be misgendered by a preset video display name, Andrade said.)
When teaching remotely for the first few weeks of the year, Christine Rockwell-Wardlow, a high school English teacher, hung a digital pride flag in her Bitmoji classroom, asked all students their pronouns, developed a set of supportive classroom norms with her students, and referenced her wife in class discussions. And Rockwell-Wardlow began the year by teaching the nonfiction book, A Queer History of the United States for Young People.
鈥淚t鈥檚 a really big deal if you鈥檙e a gay teenager and you rarely see your experiences reflected in history or the reading you do,鈥� said Rockwell-Wardlow, who teaches at the Marine Academy of Science and Technology in Highlands, N.J., which is now open for hybrid instruction.
Rockwell-Wardlow鈥檚 school incorporates social justice into its student learning standards, she said, so she feels empowered to weave LGBTQ issues throughout her curriculum.
She also made sure to utilize breakout rooms during virtual class discussions, so students could work in small groups with peers of their choice to help recreate some of the social opportunities that have been lost this school year. 鈥淵ou just have to make sure you鈥檙e proactive as a teacher,鈥� she said about making her LGBTQ students feel supported.
Bullying rates decline, but cyberbullying still a concern
Of course, school isn鈥檛 a safe space for all LGBTQ students, and some have enjoyed remote learning, either for academic reasons or as a reprieve from the social anxieties of school.
For instance, Andrade said, some transgender and nonbinary students are now relieved they can go to the bathroom without it being a source of anxiety or a potential way to be misgendered. And for some LGBTQ students, school closures have provided some escape from bullying. EdWeek鈥檚 survey found that 44 percent of LGBTQ students said they are bullied, harassed, or teased harshly by classmates either in person or online less now than before the pandemic.
Still, nearly 1 in 5 said they are bullied or harassed more now than before, and 30 percent of LGBTQ students said their relationships with their classmates are more negative now, compared to 19 percent of heterosexual students.
鈥淵ouths are spending a lot more time on the internet, interacting with peers. 鈥� Unfortunately, there can be a lot of hate online and bullying and harassment,鈥� said Green of the Trevor Project.
And while there are many supportive communities for LGBTQ teenagers and young people online, some students can鈥檛 access those from their homes because they either don鈥檛 have internet access or their parents restrict or monitor their internet usage, said Bex Mui, the education manager at GLSEN, a national nonprofit dedicated to supporting LGBTQ students.
Yet for those students who can freely access the internet, online communities have been a saving grace while schools are closed.
During remote learning, Oke, the high school junior in Maryland, started a virtual book club called Untold Stories, where participants read short stories by an LGBTQ author or a person of color. 鈥淲e don鈥檛 get that in our curriculum鈥� at school, Oke said, adding that he has expanded the club membership beyond his school to any young person who wants to attend.
And this past fall, Cody Miller, an assistant professor of English education at SUNY Brockport, started a virtual LGBTQ youth book club with shea martin, a literacy educator and professional development facilitator who styles their name in lower case. The pair accepted about 140 high school students from across the country into the club, called , and divided them into three cohorts to discuss literature and anything else that鈥檚 on their minds. (Miller and martin have since opened up applications to 8th graders, too.)
This year, the teenagers are reading six books about LGBTQ characters and issues, including Like a Love Story, a young adult novel set in New York City at the peak of the AIDS crisis, and The Black Flamingo, a coming-of-age story told in verse. Miller and martin crowdfunded enough money to send each student the books and to pay for some of the authors and other LGBTQ writers to speak to the students.
鈥淭he books are important, but it鈥檚 really more about community,鈥� Miller said. With remote learning, he added, LGBTQ students are 鈥渙ften cut off from resources at school鈥攁nd sometimes, that resource can just be being with their friends. 鈥� Not being able to see your fellow LGBTQ students disrupts the community that LGBTQ youth build to survive, frankly.鈥�
Said Oke: 鈥淪tudents of all identities are really going through it right now. ... I would want [teachers] to really put themselves in our shoes and try to be as much of a support system as you possibly can.鈥�
