I shouldn’t be afraid to be myself at school

8/5/2022 for Klipsun Magazine

I was 12 years old when I learned the truth about the Catholic church. I was baptized Catholic and attended two Catholic schools — St. George School and Holy Names Academy — from 2008 to 2019 in Seattle, a city known for being very liberal and queer.

Wide-eyed and on the precipice of becoming an angsty teen, I opened my school’s religion book to do my tedious homework on Jesus. While I don’t remember the exact words written, it made no difference; I would see them repeated over and over for the rest of my Catholic education.

Here are some quotes from a chapter in my ninth-grade religion book, “Sex and the Teenager,” to get an idea of the kinds of things I saw when I was 12. Though these words were never formally taught to me, they still had a negative impact:

“Though we don’t have a choice about our sexual tendencies, we do have a very clear choice about our sexual activity.”

“The Catholic Church teaches that all sexual activity outside of a valid heterosexual marriage is morally unacceptable and therefore wrong or sinful. This includes premarital sex, masturbation, and homosexual genital behavior.”

“Since marriage between homosexuals is not an option, homosexual persons are called to a life of celibacy.”

“Sometime over the past few years, you’ve made a frightening discovery about yourself.”

“Do everything possible to continue demonstrating love for your child. However, accepting his or her homosexual orientation does not have to include approving of all related attitudes and behavioral choices. In fact, you may need to challenge certain aspects of a lifestyle that you find objectionable.”

This book is no longer taught at my high school, but many of the messages within have a grip on the community that can’t be shaken off just by banning a book.

El Berendts also attended Holy Names, an all-girls school located in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. They would travel several hours by train and bus from their home in Puyallup to attend classes each day.

Berendts said they did not feel supported as a queer student. “The school made that repeatedly clear.”

They were a part of their school’s robotics team, which the school prided on being all-girls.

“[The] Robotics team made a big huff about being an all-girls team,” Berendts said. “Well, we weren’t all girls. That’s the big catch.”

Berendts explained that no one wanted to acknowledge that being an all-girls team played up the marketing value, even though it was damaging to students.

“We had a pride flag in our robotics room,” they said. “And we had to take it down because there were some donors coming to the school and they didn’t want to show that [and give] the wrong idea.”

During my time at Western Washington University, I have received a lot of questions about the time I spent in Catholic schools. Because attending Western was my first time in a public school since I was in first grade, I had not realized that public schools are generally more open to embracing a queer identity.

When I was in high school, we had a club designated for queer students, but it wasn’t allowed to be advertised as a queer club. The club was called “True Colors.” Yes, just like the Cyndi Lauper song.

On Holy Names’ website, the club is described as “Open to all who strive to create a safe and loving environment that supports all students in our community. Members seek to build relationships of respect and compassion while fostering acceptance for others.”

This description tells me nothing.

Had I attended my local public school, it would’ve been West Seattle High School. Their version of True Colors is called “GSA.” On the school’s website, the club is described as “Open to all queer people plus straight allies, and has previously been called the Gay-Straight Alliance, and the Gender & Sexuality Alliance.”

Ignoring the queer community became part of my everyday life, so in many ways, I ignored and tried to suppress my identity.

In the past year, I have started to identify as nonbinary. During my time at Holy Names, I was afraid to stray away from my feminine identity out of fear of being judged. Still, whenever I was referred to as a girl, young lady, or future alumna, I felt dysphoria surrounding my identity.

Among Gen Z adults, 21% identify as LGBTQ, according to a 2022 survey by Gallup. If that’s the case, why do Catholic schools ignore their queer students? One answer could be the fact that some donors don’t support LGBTQ rights. It should be noted that donors can be parents, alumni or community members who support the school. According to a 2020 Pew Research Center study, 19% of American Catholics believe homosexuality should not be accepted by society.

“There’s just such a weird dynamic between schools and parents, and it’s becoming worse,” said Amanda Baumgartner, a religion teacher with experience teaching in Catholic middle and high schools. “It’s becoming way worse between parents and even public schools, but for sure private schools.”

Baumgartner said parents believe they are entitled to decide what is acceptable and what isn’t, because they pay for the schools. “The school has to try to figure out how to hold its own for what it stands for, but also pay its bills at the end of the day,” she said.

Another explanation for the lack of respect toward queer people is the fact that Catholic theology can be interpreted in many ways. When it comes to homosexuality, Baumgartner said people in the church either focus more on supporting queer people, or on their actions being morally wrong.

“And so it really depends on kind of where you end up,” she said.

Olivia Welch is a bisexual student who attended Catholic schools from 2006 to 2019 and was raised by two moms. The people she surrounded herself with during her time at Holy Names led her to believe that queer people and Catholicism don’t mix.

“I was going in the full opposite direction of trying to fit in and trying to be religious and having some type of relationship with God,” Welch said. At the time she was friends with religious people, and wanted to fit in.

“I was really trying to be heterosexual and act like I came from a [different-sex parent] household, because having two moms felt very different from them.”

When there’s a lack of acknowledgment and education on a topic, there tends to be a lot more ignorance surrounding it. Since Catholic schools stray away from teaching about the queer community, ignorance and stereotypical views become more prevalent.

Peter Dyer is a gay man who attended Catholic schools from 2012 to 2018. He was a student at Bishop Blanchet High School in the Green Lake neighborhood of Seattle.

“I never witnessed any outright homophobia, though you could sense some people’s distaste for queer people mostly in a ‘It’s fine if you’re gay, but don’t shove it in my face’ type of way,” he said.

Dyer said he had an easier experience coming out because he is white and cisgender.

“[I] didn’t face too much difficulty when coming out, it was mostly a lot of tokenizing and people wanting a ‘gay best friend,’ but when I was in high school, I definitely would’ve taken kindness over bullying, so I considered myself lucky,” he said.

This, however, was not the experience for everyone.

During my time in high school, I was open about my lesbianism, and I presented myself in a more masculine way. I would frequently receive questions about why I chose to present the way I did.

There was one incident where a feminine-presenting girl laughed at me when I said I thought I had a good sense of style. Sure, my look isn’t for everyone, but it still hurts to be laughed at for presenting in a way that makes me feel most comfortable.

When I look back, hindsight is always 20/20. People tend to focus on the bad memories because the emotional reaction is stronger than it is for the happier ones.

Nevertheless, I had friends and nice teachers during my time in high school. They deserve recognition for getting me through that time in my life.

“I do think that most teachers genuinely care and love their students, and want what’s best for [them] — regardless of their orientation, regardless of their political background, regardless of their race or religion,” Baumgartner said. “And that they’re going to do the best they can — or that they feel they can — to be there for their students, despite limitations.”

My hope is that people from Catholic schools will find this article and realize queer students need to see change. We deserve to be acknowledged, not to be placed in an ambiguous corner.

We are valid and deserve the same love as the rest of God’s creatures.