"Or boyfriend?"

I was attending a friend’s 18th birthday with a couple of other adults. There would be no drinking on my behalf as students would be present. FYI, the birthday girl was not my student, nor did they go to the school where I taught. I would never attend a current student’s 18th birthday party because #childsafetystandards

There were current students present, however. This didn’t make me nervous as they were all excellent young adults and extremely respectful. I discussed school, laughed at music choices, and generally had a wonderful time.

One of my students sheepishly came to say hello with alcohol in hand. He was a kind young man with a heart of gold. He (mostly) always paid attention to me and showed the utmost respect. He struggled with some other teachers and would cruise through classes without showing too much enthusiasm. We had a rehearsal the next day, and although I would have preferred him to be in tip-top shape for the taxing week ahead, he was not going to write himself off.

I knew of his feelings towards one of the girls at the party (also a student). They were going to be presentation ball partners and didn’t want anything to happen before then as “it could become weird or complicated”. She and her friend also approached me with drinks in hand. They were giggly and thoroughly enjoying the novelty of having a teacher at a party they were attending. After some conversation between the four of us, the young man moved to the fire and began talking with other Lynx-covered adolescents.

These two young women were hilarious and lovely. I taught them Drama in Years 7 and 8 and English in Years 10 and 11. I was their tutor group teacher for their time in the senior school, and we laughed daily over games of Uno Stacko and general knowledge quizzes. We also played in a mixed netball competition, winning the premiership in style in 2015. It was completely hilarious to play with past and present students and their parents, and I think they were a little taken aback by how competitive their Drama teacher could be. One of the umpires called my style "majestic". 💁🏻‍♂

We discussed school, how I knew the birthday girl, who else I knew there and if it was uncomfortable being in this situation. “Not really,” I said. “I grew up with teachers around all the time. My dad was a principal himself, and we all respect each other here, so it shouldn’t be weird, should it?”

“I guess not!” one of them replied. They moved the conversation swiftly onto the flirting and blossoming romance. They asked for my guidance. I can’t really remember what I said, but I’m not sure why my advice would or should have even been trusted. At the time, I was 28 years old and had never been in a relationship. I didn’t even have a high school romance. Side note: they eventually dated for over a year and are still excellent young adults.

During the conversation, one of their friends joined. She wasn’t my student, nor did they go to the school where I taught, but I knew of her through our small community. We were introduced and asked the standard questions; interests, who I knew, and where I lived. And suddenly, she asked me the question I didn’t like discussing in front of students.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Now, I felt like I knew these kids quite well, and I knew whatever I said would have been fine. There would have been no awkwardness or calls from parents or disgusted looks. But there’s always that part of your stomach that drops. You question who you are, what you stand for, and how others will react.

I could have said any combination of the following:

“Yes.”

“No.”

“I’m dating someone.”

“I’m not looking at the moment.”

But I couldn’t even think about uttering these two words; “I’m gay.” That would be too far.

Before I could even reply, before I could even think about replying, one of these intelligent, empathetic, hysterical young adults added these two simple, non-judging, inclusive and open words…

“…or boyfriend?”

I think I may have smiled slightly, but on the inside, I wanted to cry tears of happiness, not sadness. She didn’t know how it impacted me and how her inclusiveness made me feel. I could have let the question slide and had my fear take over. I could have replied and had this person who didn’t know me assume something incorrect about me. I didn’t have to do anything, though.

My student was teaching me that it was ok to be myself. That we were in a safe space. That respect and inclusion were at the top of her list. And that was a bloody awesome feeling. Shouldn’t I have been the one to be teaching her that?

I can’t remember how I replied, and to be honest, I don’t think it matters all too much.

A few weeks later, we were outside of class and discussing an assessment. How ironic is it that she was anxious about speaking in front of her peers? I took a deep breath and knew I had to relay to her how her presence had calmed my anxiety. I told her how powerful her words were and how much they affected me. I know that I would have cried because opening up to a student and demonstrating vulnerability is always completely emotional for me. I always tried to let students know that to cry or show emotion is to be human and shows that you care. I can’t really remember her response, but I’m glad I let her know.

It’s all we can hope for, really, isn’t it? The fact that she had the courage and pride in herself to say those two words to make me feel more comfortable and welcomed has just added to one of the reasons why I think we as a society are moving in the right direction. Young people are so great if we give them the chance.