Still Coming Out After All These Years

 During the summer of 2019, I finished an early childhood leadership program.  Our culminating event was our capstone presentation. I felt nauseous as I spoke to that room of 100+ strangers, some of whom, I was told, were very conservative.

When I would need some extra courage, or when my voice shook, I looked to my cohort or to Rebeca and Maya in the audience. They helped me to be brave.
The following is my speech. I did it without notes so some words may have changed, but the meaning was still there. I want to document this before my notes disintegrate in my bag. 
Seems fitting for National Coming Out Day. 

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My name is Stacy. My pronouns are she/her/hers. I am a gay, Japanese, cis woman who never knew my existence was possible until my late teens.

The first time I ever saw a positive representation of my secret self was in my English class during my junior year of high school. I found a book in my teacher's library called, "Annie on My Mind", a love story featuring two teenage girls.

I remember taking the book from the shelf and another one to place no top of it. I hid it in my book bag and took it home.

I felt overjoyed as I read it in my bedroom behind a locked door. I also felt a deep sense of shame and self loathing. What did this mean about me? I was terrified that someone would find out what I was reading. I didn't even fully trust the teacher who had it in her classroom. Maybe she didn't know what it was about. I read and re-read that book numerous times as I dove deeply back into the closet for five more years.

Why? Fear.

During my research I connected with numerous queer and trans people who had very similar experiences. We laughed and cried as we shared our stories. We talked about our fear and of being invisible.

Our teachers only read stories about moms and dads and lined us up in boy lines and girl lines.

Our churches told us that "those people" were an abomination and could never live an authentic and happy life.

Our families made fun of "fairies" and our friends used "gay" as a slur.

Most people we came into contact with told us not to be who we were.

As educators we know that queer and trans children exist in our classrooms, or they have loved ones that identify that way. They need to see themselves represented in our programs.

Their friends need to see this representation so that it is not "other". It just is.

Our classrooms may be their only safe haven. We may be the only adults who see them.

When I asked a group of over 50 queer and trans folx what they would say to their four year old selves the responses were often the same.

You are perfect the way that you are.
You are loved.
You are beautiful.
You are who you are meant to be.

These are affirmations that they didn't hear, or know, as children.

Every child needs a champion and a safe place to land. Children will tell you who they are. It is our responsibility as adults to listen, and to believe them.