Critics warn that the vague language is ripe for misinterpretation or abuse it could stop schools from integrating inclusive coursework, like word problems that could incorporate examples of two mothers or fathers stop books with LGBTQ+ characters or authors from being read in classrooms or even stop students or educators from talking about their own families. The legislation goes into effect on July 1 and prohibits instruction about sexual orientation and gender identity in classrooms for grades K-3 and limits discussion of it in all grades K-12.
These are the memories that come back to me when I think of Florida’s House Bill 1557, aka the Don’t Say Gay Bill, which was signed into law by Gov.
It built something within me that I wouldn’t understand for years to come, heavy like a weight. But even with this reassurance, it took me a long time to come to terms with my sexuality: I spent eight hours a day trapped at school, being battered with casual homophobic remarks from teachers and students alike. “You can love anyone, woman, man, person, it doesn’t matter as long as they treat you well.” I was then, and am still, grateful beyond words for my family’s support. If you love them, I will love them too,” my mom would tell me. I was fortunate enough to be supported at home: “It doesn’t matter who you bring home. It wasn’t the first time anti-gay messaging was cruelly dropped onto my shoulders at school, and it wouldn’t be the last time either. I wish I could go back in time and wrap my arms around my younger self, tell her that it was OK, but it wasn’t. “There is nothing wrong or bad about being gay, but it is clear that a husband and a wife is what God intended.” My cheeks burned hot for reasons I had not yet understood. “The church doesn’t hate gay people, I don’t hate gay people.” She tilted her head, fingers clicking against the desk. On the Powerpoint in the background was a cartoon picture of a man and a woman holding hands. I was in eighth grade when my Catholic school teacher tucked a piece of white hair behind one ear, leaning a hand onto her desk.