Following a pioneering conference and the circulation in schools of new guidelines on inclusiveness, will gay teachers now find it easier to be open about their sexuality, asks ROSITA BOLAND
LAST WEEKEND, the Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual primary teachers’ group (LGB) carved out a piece of Irish social history when it held its first conference at Dublin’s Royal College of Physicians. The LGB is part of the Irish National Teachers’ Organisation (INTO), and 120 delegates in total attended. At the conference, the good practice guidelines for “creating an inclusive staffroom for lesbian, gay and bisexual staff” were launched. The Into will be circulating a copy of these guidelines to every primary school in the country in the near future.
“We held the conference to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the LGB,” explains its chairwoman, Sheila Crowley (55), a teacher in Castleisland, Co Kerry. When the group was set up in 2004, it had 14 members. It now has 45. “But we know there is a much higher number of gay primary-school teachers than those coming to the group, who are not comfortable with coming out. We are mostly an invisible community.”
Crowley has been teaching for 33 years and she decided to come out five years ago. “I felt that I had to come out for the sake of younger teachers. We need to be more public,” she says. “After 33 years in the job, I don’t have a fear now that I’ll lose my job, but younger teachers do. They’re afraid they wouldn’t get promoted. They don’t want to risk anything at the beginning of their teaching career.”
Hugh (32) teaches in a village school in rural Co Cork. He changed careers recently, and is still on a temporary contract while he gains experience. Nobody in his staffroom knows he is gay. He speaks from the privacy of his car before he starts the school day.
“I have to be so careful all the time what I say in the staffroom,” he says. “I can never talk openly about my weekend on Monday; about going to a gay club, for instance. I’m very much aware that, under law, I could be fired.”
The Act Hugh is referring to is Section 37.1(b) of the 1998 Employment Equality Act. It states: “A religious, educational or medical institution which is under the direction or control of a body established for religious purposes or whose objectives include the provision of services in an environment which promotes certain religious values shall not be taken to discriminate against a person for the purposes of this Part or Part II if . . . (b) it takes action which is reasonably necessary to prevent an employee or a prospective employee from undermining the religious ethos of the institution.”
Since the vast majority of primary schools in Ireland operate under the patronage of the Catholic Church, it could be entirely possible for a school, or hospital, with a religious ethos to take a legal case against a staff member who identifies themselves as gay.
“I know the Act has never been implemented,” Hugh says, “but nobody wants to be the first one for it to be tested on. The attitude of the Catholic Church to single mothers and divorced parents has changed, but to gays and lesbians, it has not. I don’t have a permanent job yet, so I don’t feel secure about coming out. It could be decided that my contract was not going to be renewed. My main fear is of prejudice – from staff, management, parents, and even from the children themselves.”
Elizabeth (55) teaches in a school in west Dublin, and has not come out, nor does she intend to. “All the onus for change, or to come out as a teacher, is on the individual,” she says. “We need to be able to come out in a safe environment. It’s time for the church to come out and address this issue.” She is afraid of losing her job, and also “it doesn’t feel safe. You cover your private life all the time; you cover it.”
Elizabeth speaks of the "deadening experience it is not to be out. You don't talk spontaneously in the staffroom about your social life. I'm always censoring myself. Everyone else talks about their partners. I've been in a relationship for eight years, and I have never once mentioned my partner at school." She laughs wryly. "I willbring my partner to my retirement do, but it would be nice if I could bring her to the school before that."
Cathal Ó Riada (46), of the village school of Cúil Aodha in Co Cork, has been teaching for 25 years. He decided to come out publicly last weekend, at the LGB conference. “There are no role models for gay teachers,” he says. “I felt it was time I gave some help to others, so they wouldn’t be afraid. By being more visible, maybe I can give courage to other teachers. I’ve been comfortable with my sexual orientation for years, but I can’t go on for the rest of my life pretending at work to be something I’m not.”
LIKE ELIZABETH and Hugh, Ó Riada is unhappy with the artificial staffroom conversations he has to participate in, which stop any real friendships being formed.
“I can never join in the talk in the staffroom about what everyone’s being doing over the weekend,” he says flatly. “Ireland has come a long way, but it’s still difficult to be a gay teacher. Teachers don’t come out because they fear they’ll lose their job, or not be promoted, or their contacts won’t be renewed. They fear parents will lose respect for them. But a staffroom where diversity is achieved will make the classroom a more tolerant place, beneficial to the whole school.”
Mary Immaculate College, in Limerick, is one of the State’s primary-school training colleges, where female students currently outnumber males by approximately seven to one. For the last five years, as part of one of its modules, the college includes two obligatory lectures on the theme of marginalised voices among children, parents and teachers. “We look at the voices of those who haven’t been heard, or who have been silenced,” says Prof Jim Deegan, of Mary Immaculate. “We try to create an awareness around the issue of sexual orientation. We create a space for the conversation to start.”
The classes are large – between 150 to 200 students – so, as Deegan admits, “they are not conducive to any gay students discussing the subject”. But what the classes attempt to do is create a platform for informal discussion among students.
Five years ago, just after LGB was established and Sheila Crowley’s photograph at the launch event had appeared in a union publication, a teacher at another school in the parish took the magazine to the local curate. “She said to him it was all right to be a gay teacher in a big city, but not in a small community, and what was he going to do about it? He told her it was a union magazine and none of his business. Nothing happened.”
Crowley heard about this later, through a friend who thought she should be aware of it. You could say nothing happened, except one member of the community made it clear to another that she was not welcome there, due to her sexual orientation.
Some names have been changed
Good practice: the guidelines
1 Be aware that a percentage of your colleagues, or their family and friends, are lesbian, gay or bisexual.
2 Challenge homophobic jokes and comments.
3 Make sure that staff social events involving partners are equally open to same-sex partners.
4 Encourage the use of inclusive and gender-neutral language.
5 If you are unsure of appropriate language, ask an LGB person for guidance.
6 Respond positively when a colleague discloses their sexual orientation.
7 Be informed about current information concerning LGB issues and display relevant INTO posters in the staffroom.
8 Review the adult anti-bullying policy to ensure that it contains an explicit reference to homophobic bullying.
9 Include in your positive staff relations policy a way of dealing with situations when "gay", "queer" and so on are used as terms of abuse.
10 Talk about issues that affect LGB teachers alongside all other equality issues that are discussed in the staffroom. Break the silence.
