Back to School for Black Queer Kids: Its Complicated
 

Growing up, I was a voracious reader at a very early age. From Little Critter and The Berenstain Bears to Arthur, I consumed books as if they were necessary for my survival, such as air and food. I vividly remember my father taking me to the Indianapolis Public Library, and I was, more often than not, the only Black kid in the building. Perhaps the only queer kid too.  The librarian frequently challenged my choices, explaining that the books I chose were way beyond my age level. With my father’s help, I resisted. I frequently returned in 48 hours with the books completed (this is back when Book-It was a thing). 

This was pivotal because I discovered that academics and intellect were my talents around Kindergarten. By age 7, I had unbound confidence in something- reading and writing. Black queer men may not discover these talents until 70, if at all. Not because they don’t have them but because structures and systems never allowed them to see their magic. Some perish without experiencing this confidence. While others were athletic or socially gifted, my strengths were found in critical thinking and speaking. My parents told me never to be afraid to ask a question and to ask a rationale for everything. I took them up on this advice, even when it came back to annoy them. 

Now, this same skill set has allowed me to flourish as a professor, educator, and debate coach. Instead of the student, I am the teacher who shepherds students from question to answer But, unfortunately, I have not encountered many students who look like me, Black & Queer. And perhaps more troubling, I have also not found many educators who understand and empathize with the Black gay experience. Often, when it comes to schooling,  it feels like I won the lottery, but everyone who looks like me, never had the opportunity to buy a ticket. It is incredibly dehumanizing, discouraging, and demoralizing to be a 1st generation, neurodivergent Black queer man who flourished academically while others, including friends, seemed to be relegated to the shadows.  Despite a degree in English Education and over 10+ years of teaching experience in higher education, I am often left asking a dumbfounding question: why do Black queer students seem to be left to fend for themselves? 

What Do We Know?: Spotlight On Data

I wholeheartedly acknowledge that nothing is monolithic/universal, but we can discuss patterns, especially if we follow research consistency. This article will not apply to all Black queer men, but research and data indicate it certainly applies to many. If you read this article and say, “This doesn’t apply to me,” or “This isn't true for me or my friends,” I strongly encourage you to flip the question and ask- is this true for anyone else around me?

There is limited data on Black queer students and education. Most large-scale data is surrounding safety. In fact, many students are more focused on safety in schools than academic achievement. As an educator, I know that security and safety are prerequisites for learning; if students don’t feel safe at school, telling them to focus on reading comprehension is disingenuous, immoral or unkind. I cannot learn if I also have to worry about survival. A Black queer student may love reading but lack resources to help them with comprehension, and/or they are constantly bullied for what they read (feminine magazines, anime, “gay books, etc.” ). I speak from experience. I defied statistics, but most do not. Not because they cannot but because they never received the opportunity to. They are equally worthy of education and engagement. 

Regardless of where you look, virtually all research shows a horrific disparity for Black queer students-this is true for academic achievement and safety. For example, a study published in Translational Issues in Psychological Science revealed that  “students with intersectional identities—namely, Black lesbian, gay, bisexual, queer, and other sexual minority (LGBQ+) students—report feeling lower levels of school belonging than their peers do.” Additionally, APA reports that “ compared with straight Black students, Black LGBQ+ students felt like their identities were less valued, and they felt less safe at school. ” Research from the Human Rights Campaign provides more insight and clarity. HRC’s report, which gathered responses from almost 13,000 LGBTQ+ youth from all 50 states, unveils troubling facts.

  • 97% of queer youth are out to friends, but only 58% are out to teachers or school officials.

  • 56% of Black LGBTQIA+ youth report being physically or verbally harassed in school in the last month 

Additionally, as if this weren’t enough, a joint report from GLSEN and the National Black Justice Coalition unveiled many other findings.  

  • Nearly a third of Black LGBTQ students (30.4%) reported missing at least one day of school in the  last month because they felt unsafe or uncomfortable, and 10.3% missed four or more days in the past month.

  •  Black LGBTQIA+ experienced lower levels of school belonging (30.5% vs. 61.3%) and greater levels of depression (69.8% vs. 43.1%). A majority of Black LGBTQ students (52.4%) who experienced harassment or assault in the past year never reported victimization to staff, most commonly because they did not think that staff would do anything about it (62.9%).

Statistics do not tell the whole story. Statistics can tell you how many people are impacted or how large a problem is, but statistics are not the most useful when understanding how/why an injustice exists.  As was once explained to me, statistics can tell you what people believe/feel at one moment in time & help reveal a problem, but they are not valuable for illuminating the “why.” 

The Unique Factors Impacting Black Queer Students

In the next sections, I, as someone who is an educator and Black/Queer, offer up various reasons how/why this could be true. As will be evident, these are not individual motivation or intellect issues. Instead, they are systemic failures. A student is not responsible for the inability to protect themselves against homophobia and racism.

  1. Bullying and Interpersonal Violence

    As echoed above, it is cognitively impossible to focus on learning if one fears safety. This is true beyond learning. Even if you consider the standard Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, safety and security are prerequisites for self-actualization and self-esteem.  Policy is often the answer, but not always. For example, a teacher intervening to stop bullying/harassment requires they believe it as such and have the desire to intervene. Additionally, while teenagers frequently engage in playful harassment etc, this is often not the case for Black queer youth; they report ample instances of being targeted directly for their race and/or sexuality. Often, both. And as revealed earlier, nearly 63% of Black queer students did not report harassment to a school official.

  2. Curriculum & Instruction 

    While the impacts of bullying and violence are more apparent, the erasure of identity in the curriculum is also important. Black queer kids frequently don’t see themselves validated, embraced, and celebrated in an academic context. Let’s move this from abstract to tangible. To illustrate, let’s isolate hypothetical examples driven by real-world scenarios. (1) In English and Language Arts, students are rarely taught the works of Black queer authors like James Baldwin or Alice Walker. And if they are taught about them, their queerness is often muted in classroom discussions. I speak from experience as someone who went to undergrad for an English education. It is important to examine how these are all connected, as students may be bullied because of their interests or sexuality. A student could be picked on because of their project choice. Or In biology, a trans student may be teased when learning about chromosomes and gender. In social studies, students may not learn about queer movements or history. 

None of these issues exists in a vacuum; they are all connected to larger cultural issues emerging right now. It is incredibly concerning that Black queer students seem to be in the crosshairs of homophobia and racism. Around five years ago, 15 year Nigel Shelby died by suicide after reporting harassment and bullying at school. His family finally received a settlement from the school district in 2023. But there are thousands of Black queer kids, just like Nigel, who need to flourish now. School is a great place to start. 

 

Deion S. Hawkins, Ph.D. is Senior Editor of The Reckoning. He is an Assistant Professor of Argumentation & Advocacy and the Director of Debate at Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts. In addition to guiding a nationally recognized speech & debate team, Deion teaches various courses, including, Rhetoric of Social Movements, Health Communication & Health Advocacy. Besides publishing academic research focusing on racial justice in HIV, Deion’s writing has also been featured in Salon, Yahoo, Fortune, and HowStuffWorks. Deion is passionate about using his background in advocacy to advance equity and liberation, especially for Black queer men. He remains committed to serving historically marginalized, under-resourced, and under-served populations. For example, he is on the Board of Directors for Boston Healthcare For The Homeless Program, a nonprofit dedicated to providing comprehensive and dignified healthcare regardless of one’s housing status.