How I Come Out To My Third Graders

Nicole Agadoni

In a month, I would be starting my first teaching job at the charter school in Atlanta, Georgia, where I had just completed my year-long internship. I had fallen in love with the school’s welcoming environment that is palpable upon entering the building’s front doors. I had interned in some other schools prior to my year here - both in and out of Atlanta’s city limits, and this was the only school where I believed I could openly express my identity. The school’s commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion fosters a culture of safety, self-expression, connection, and respect.

This being the first opportunity I had to be myself, I had a decision to make. Would I come out to my students? It was a question I hadn’t had the privilege of considering before, but instantly I knew the answer was - of course. Teaching is exhausting enough without the added burden of concealing my identity. I had felt the weight of that burden throughout my stint as a student teacher, and I knew it was time to let that go. So, the next question was: How will I come out to my students? As a brand-new teacher who was still finding her bearings, I wasn’t sure. I committed to being open and honest with my students if my sexuality or identity happened to come up. As a teacher of 8- and 9-year-olds, it didn’t take long for questions like, “Do you have a boyfriend?” or “Are you married?” to arise. At the time, my wife and I were dating and living together, but marriage equality wasn’t yet federally recognized. These questions led to thoughtful conversations about relationships, family diversity, equality, and inclusion, which allowed me to connect with my students in an authentic and meaningful way. By the end of my first year, I saw the benefits of coming out to my students, and I knew it was essential to develop a way to cultivate these connections and conversations during the first six weeks of the school year, a time when we are creating class culture and building positive relationships that lay the foundation for the school year.

What does it look like to come out to a group of third graders? I considered the class meeting structure, which is a forum for connecting as a class family. As I was planning for the class meeting, I immediately realized the context my students would need to fully engage in the conversation would far extend the attention span required to sit and listen in a circle on the carpet. I would need a resource: something engaging and informative. There were finally more LQBTQ+ books being published for children, and I had received a fantastic one as a gift from a student the previous year. She purchased Pride: The Story of Harvey Milk and the Rainbow Flag at our school’s book fair for me, and my eyes welled with tears as Rob Sanders’ inspirational words and Steven Salerno’s captivating illustrations told the story of activist, Harvey Milk, and his collaboration with designer, Gilbert Baker, to create the rainbow flag, a symbol that continues to unify and inspire people around the world. As an introduction to our first reading unit, we are already sharing some of our best and most significant experiences as readers, as well as some of our favorite books. My teaching partner and I will also read one of our favorite books and discuss why the text is so special to us. That year, I planned to share Pride: The Story of Harvey Milk and the Rainbow Flag as my favorite book.

First, I presented the cover and asked students to discuss what they noticed and what they predicted the book might be about. This was a great way to assess what my students already knew about the LGBTQ+ community and what I’d need to be sure I taught into. A handful of students immediately recognized the rainbow flag on the cover as a symbol of the LGBTQ+ community, as they shared about their experiences at the Atlanta Pride parade or having a family member who identifies as a part of the community. Other students used context clues to predict who the man on the cover might be, and other students didn’t have as much prior knowledge and weren’t sure what to expect. As I read the book, I paused to engage students in thought-provoking discussion questions that created opportunities for students to form and share connections to the text, as well as learn and inquire about equity, fairness, inclusion, innovation, activism, and of course, the LGBTQ+ community.

When we reached the end of the book, I felt confident that all of my students had the context needed to understand my identity. It was time to come out. I held the text close to my heart as I shared, “I chose this book as one of my favorites because I identify as part of the LGBTQ+ community. I identify as gay or lesbian.” Hands shot up, as my students had endless clarifying questions, and as I answered them, I was encouraged by smiling faces and heads nodding in agreement and understanding. I elaborated, “This is one of my favorite books not only because it is inspiring and spreads a positive message, but also because when I was your age, books like this one weren’t available.” Students connected to the text to infer why that might have been. I went on to explain how if books like this one were read to me when I was younger, it would have helped me as a child who was developing and making sense of her identity to feel included and validated, and it would have helped others open their minds to new ideas and perspectives. The conversations that continued to build seemed endless, and created space for additional lessons and discussions around identity, history, culture, respect, and more.

I have continued to come out to my students in this way, and each year I am affirmed by the welcoming, inclusive, and joyful classroom that my students and I share. It is a place where we are free to share not only our knowledge and questions, but also ideas, perspectives, experiences, and feelings. We advocate for our needs and learn about and learn from each other. I’m confident that when my students move on from third grade, they do so with more self-awareness and acceptance, and I can attribute much of that to the example I provide. By intentionally coming out to my students, I model vulnerability, honesty, compassion, and confidence.

I acknowledge that I have the privilege of writing this from a school whose administration, mission, and vision provide the support and approval that allow lessons like these to be possible. Before I made the decision to come out to my students, I first had to ensure that I was ready. I then learned about and observed my surroundings and assessed whether coming out would be a safe decision. I am grateful to have the opportunity to hopefully inspire a future generation of kinder, more empathetic citizens.