An Open Letter to the Student Who Asked, "Are you married?"

Dear student,

The first day, I wasn't sure what to think of you. You were sassy and resistant to my instruction because you reject the premise of standardized testing. I think you had also given up on yourself a little. I too rejected the idea that standardized testing is a good measure of you, and as I got to know you, you've proven me right.

I showed you how to improve, and you did. I think you've bought in. I think you know that I believe in you and care about you and fiercely want to see you fulfill your dreams. I don't know if you like me now. I hope so, but you're not obligated to.

So when you asked me if I'm married, I'm sorry that I brushed it off. We did have a lot to get done, and I did suspect that you were trying to get me off track, but maybe you really did want to know. You've seen me wearing my wedding ring. It's generally a fair question.

And normally it's a binary. Yes or no. Moving on. In a heteronormative society, that's how it works. So why wouldn't I share?

Because the answer to your question is yes, federally and in something like 35 states, but no in the one in which I live. Because the Elliott Larsen Freeman Act hasn't been updated. Because it wouldn't be a quick moving on from that. Because that kind of revelation could have lost me control of my classroom on a day when chaos was barely contained.

But also because I'm afraid.

Having come out before, I know that the answer to that question can hurt me. I am incredibly blessed to work for a company with a nondiscrimination policy based in a city that requires it. I think United Way also has a policy like this. I am also so fortunate to know that the office would fight for me if anything happened. They would tell people who complained that I'm doing a great job. That it doesn't matter. That they don't want to replace me halfway through.

So maybe I am safe. But one student or parent complaint could make my life hard. It could start a flurry of phone calls, derail me, increase my paperwork load. I'm not in a place where I can handle that. You did not think of this. Many straight people don't, especially if they are allies.

So I brushed you off. I offered you the most truth I could. I tried not to embarrass you. A colleague defended me, as did some other students. You claimed that I was withholding, which I was, and I'm sorry. I have tried to offer you all I have, but me being removed from the classroom would not serve you.

I look forward to seeing you, all of you, every week. Tuesday is my favorite day. I have much to offer you, but you offer me much in return. You offer me joy, success, challenge, meaning. I will do what I can to defend those things.

So I cannot tell you in class that I'm married, even if I want to. Your generation may see this differently. But I'm guessing you didn't see this coming either way.

I've been passing for straight. I'm sure, after yesterday, because you asked if I'm dating the male colleague who works in your classroom with me. My reaction was emphatically no - perhaps too much so (sorry, male colleague, there's nothing inherently wrong with you), but leaving that door open could also create a lot of issues for me. So you think I'm straight. My fishtail braids, eye makeup, jewelry, etc have convinced you that I follow norms for a straight woman.

And I was relieved. I was relieved that even as it was awkward that you suggested I'm dating someone that really makes no sense, he is male, and you think I'm straight, and my sexual orientation isn't going to blow up in my face.

And then I was sad, because being relieved means that I've internalized some heteronormativity. It means that I know that my life would be easier if I were straight. It means that I'm not as proud of and comfortable with my sexual orientation as I thought. It also means that I am gaming gender norms.

As I said, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It's not personal at all. Someday, I hope no one has to think about these things, and the answer to the question, "Are you married?" can be less complicated. If you had asked me during a prep hour or lunch, things might have been different. Or maybe you will find this blog, although current traffic patterns tell me that it is unlikely that you will Google me to find it.

Best wishes for a beautiful Thanksgiving, sweetie,

Erin