mab segrest, my mama's dead squirrel

The closest I ever came to saying what I wanted was in an American literature class last year. Gay rights came up again – I think I may have even steered the conversation in that direction. And a student finally said to me, “But what about teachers? We can't have homosexuals teaching students!” I resisted leaping up on the podium and flashing the big L emblazoned on a leotard beneath my blouse. Instead, I took a deep breath and began slowly. “Well, in my opinion, you don’t learn sexual preference in the classroom. I mean, that’s not what we are doing here. If you had a gay or lesbian teacher, he or she would not teach you about sexual preference.” I paused to catch my breath. They were all listening. “What he or she would say, if you had a gay teacher, is this…” (by now I was lightly beating on the podium) “…‘don’t let them make you afraid to be who you are. To know who you are.’ She would tell you, ‘Don’t let them get you. Don’t let them make you afraid.’” I stopped abruptly and in the silence turned to think of something to write on the board.

If they ever do have a lesbian teacher, that is exactly what she will say. (76, 77 –“Confessions of a Closet Baptist”)