Sex and Gender-based Systems

After engaging with both the policies and the reading Queering Our Schools, I found myself thinking about the gap between what schools say they do and what students actually experience. On paper, policies like the Providence Public School Department’s transgender nondiscrimination policy and the Rhode Island Department of Education’s guidance are strong. They outline protections, expectations, and rights for transgender and gender nonconforming students. But the more I reflected, the more I realized that policy alone does not guarantee safety or inclusion. Students don’t experience policy—they experience people.

Policies create a necessary foundation, but without intentional implementation, they can easily become performative. A school can have all the right language written down, but if educators are not actively creating affirming spaces, those policies lose their power. This is where fear begins to show up. Fear of saying the wrong thing, fear of backlash from parents, fear of not fully understanding—all of these can cause educators and administrators to hesitate. The reading captures this perfectly with the line, “We worry about backlash from parents.” That fear is real, but avoiding the work does not protect students—it leaves them unsupported.

One idea from Queering Our Schools that stood out to me was the need to move beyond surface-level inclusion and instead create spaces where identity, expression, and voice are genuinely valued. Schools often operate within an unspoken definition of what is considered “normal,” and anything outside of that gets labeled as different. That mindset alone creates division before students even have the chance to fully show up as themselves. Queering schools, in this sense, is about disrupting that binary of “normal vs. different” and rethinking the structures that reinforce it.

The reading also challenges how we frame issues within schools. It states that talking about “bullies” makes problems seem individual, while ignoring the larger systems of homophobia, sexism, racism, and other forms of bias that shape behavior. That point really stuck with me because it highlights how often schools address symptoms rather than root causes. If we are not willing to name and confront those deeper issues, we are not actually creating safer environments—we are just managing behavior.

What stood out most to me was the emphasis on community. The reading states that “the cornerstone of nurturing classrooms and schools is community,” and that “community is built by working through differences, not sweeping them under the rug.” That means creating classrooms where students can ask questions, engage in dialogue, and learn from one another’s experiences. It also means emphasizing empathy, which is essential for building both understanding and belonging. True inclusion is not about avoiding discomfort—it is about working through it in a way that allows everyone to feel seen and valued.

This also connects to the idea that inclusion must go beyond symbolic actions. The reading points out that participating in events like the Day of Silence can be a good starting point, but real change requires integrating LGBTQ+ voices, histories, and experiences into everyday curriculum. Representation should not be occasional—it should be normalized. When students consistently see themselves reflected in what they are learning, it sends a powerful message that they belong. While I have not yet encountered these challenges directly in my own experience, I recognize how important it is for educators to receive ongoing training and support in navigating these conversations with parents, coworkers, and students. Building that capacity is essential for creating understanding and empathy across the board.

Ultimately, these readings and policies made me reflect on the responsibility educators carry. Policies may set expectations, but educators bring those expectations to life. If we allow fear or lack of preparation to dictate our actions, we risk reinforcing the very systems that exclude students. However, when educators are equipped with the tools, language, and confidence to engage in these conversations, they can begin to bridge gaps in understanding and foster more inclusive environments. Creating spaces where all students feel safe, seen, and supported requires more than intention—it requires continuous learning, reflection, and a commitment to doing the work, even when it is uncomfortable.