There’s something we need to talk about and it’s going to be hard for me, but we need to talk about this because I feel like there’s something you need to understand about me.

A few years ago, I had reached my 8th year of teaching. 2 years shy of a decade. I was proud of this achievement. I had a great rapport with the students. I was good at my job. I had become the teacher I always wanted to be.

It was a private religious school here in Australia. At the time I was applying for jobs, that’s what was available and I was just coming out of university. A lot of the instructors were advising us to look into private schools as there was a waiting list to get into the public schools.  I was already nervous about it. I applied for this religious school and the very same day I applied, I was offered the job. Such a boost to my confidence, a confidence that was already waning.

I only sort of knew who I was at the time, but I didn’t live in a world where I could talk about it. I made decisions about my life that I felt I had to make. It was expected of me.

I wasn’t living my best life.

Gay rights in America was starting to become a huge discussion. The Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was starting to crumble and what America discusses, Australia does too.

My personal life had crumbled around me. I was living in a straight shell by choice and it shattered around me not by choice. The girl I tried to be straight with left and all I had was me. But my heartache wasn’t because of the breakup. It was the idea that I was going to be alone.

I sat on a bench that day and talked to a pigeon. It cooed in front of me and for the first time in my life, I said, “I’m gay.”

It’s something I shouldn’t have had to say. I should have just grown into it like straight people grow into their lives.

The pigeon of course flew away. It didn’t care and in that moment I didn’t either. I just wanted to be me.

But I had a huge problem. I had surrounded myself with church friends. I had surrounded myself with friends who thought I was straight. I still had contact with my family overseas and I worked in a religious school that had already vindictively fired a high school teacher because she spoke about her girlfriend. I saw how the school made her work life impossible. I overheard executives discuss how they would turn other teachers against her, not get her the things she needed to do her job properly and even got some of the students to befriend her to get information. Who could I trust?

I had two teachers I could trust and told and they were so supportive. They were amazing and it felt amazing. I spent two years learning to love myself and who I was going to be. In secret. But it still felt good to have my two friends.

As the discussion of gay rights continued in America, the church that I went to began to discuss it in sermons as well. And my last day at that church was the day the preacher stood up and said, “Do not mourn for the gays that commit suicide. They are only progressing the inevitable attendance to Hell.” I stood up in anger and in an outburst. I was taken aside later and asked not to return again. I never did.

My social circle was now limited to a few friends outside of school, the two teachers, and the rest of the staff. I still had contact with my family overseas. I still led a secretive life. The students I had previously taught could tell something was wrong. They knew me more than I knew myself and as they aged into adulthood, they became wiser and I found myself having to lie and hide more and more…because after all, this was a religious school. I saw what they did to the LGBT+ community. They had conversion therapy for high school students. A high school student had come out to me and I warned them not to tell anyone else. I was so scared for him. I hated that I had to promote someone else to hide. But he did come out and he disappeared from the school for a while and when he came back, he wasn’t the same person.

I was getting tired of lying.

And then I met, Joel. Head over heels in love Joel. Our love story is worth me telling later, but our love was also a curse. I started to feel further and further from the staff at my school. They’d talk about their dates, their husbands, their wives or their families and my heart would hurt. It would be as simple as stating what they had for dinner together. A sweet gesture their partner had done. Expecting a child soon.

And the more time I was single, the more questions I got. The more I’d be introduced to singles in the community that other teachers felt I should marry.

My two teacher friends also met Joel. They, too, adored him. We’d disappear after school and travel as far as we could so that all four of us could hang out.

So I decided to lie about myself one more time. I got a friend online to pose with me. We changed Joel’s name to Jovanna. Finally, I could sit in the staff room and talk about my girlfriend. I got to take part in the discussions that normally would hurt to hear. It was wonderful.

But the more I fell in love with Joel, the harder it was to talk about Jovanna. The more I helped create theatrical performances, the more I wanted Joel in the audience. Not Jovanna. The very name started to feel like poison on the tongue. The lie was eating me up from the inside and there were moments where I’d slip with pronouns or almost said Joel’s name instead. Even my two teacher friends were struggling. They were tired of the lie, too and all three of us grew more and more frustrated that we couldn’t just speak the truth.

So, why didn’t I quit? Why didn’t I leave this job and find another one? It’s a simple answer I don’t know if you will understand. I stayed because of the children. I worked with ESL (English as a Second Language) children and  who were fleeing from war torn countries. I had so much to give for these kids. I loved them. I wanted these kids to grow up to be the best that they could ever be. So I stayed. Even when one of my teacher friends left. I stayed even though the bullying was getting worse and worse. I stayed until I couldn’t.

The last year I worked there was the worst. We had a new principal. He was evangelistic. He referred to Aboriginal People as savages. Through his message of love, he promoted hate and it grew. It grew into a huge ‘broken window’.

And that’s when I made a huge mistake and slipped. There was a teacher who I was extremely comfortable with. She was a lovely woman. I let me guard down. I started talking about Joel before I even realised I had been talking about him. It just came out so naturally and she stood there in silence.

“So you’re gay then?”

I died. I instantly fell into tears and I begged her not to say. I told her that I needed this job. I needed to keep teaching the children. They were what I had thought at the time brought meaning into my life. She assured me that my secret was safe with her. She’d even slyly crack jokes in the staff room.

Then in the staff meetings, the priests started coming. They started discussing homosexuality because it was still being talked about in the news and there was word that there were staff members and students who suffered from the psychiatric illness. Being gay became a witch hunt. Male students were starting to be discussed openly in uncomfortable and judgmental ways. I was getting asked more and more about Jovanna and when everyone was going to meet her. I had to crack jokes to stop them from asking about her or I shared information that made them uncomfortable. And I wasn’t stupid, I could see the suspicion and I knew that other teachers knew. I wasn’t safe.

So during staff meetings, my teacher friend and I would draw together on our agendas. We’d make silly doodles just to get us through. We’d try to block out the hate. There were days it was easy. There were days it was not.

My health started to deteriorate. The lies. The mental health. I hadn’t even told my own doctor I was gay. It was eating me up from the inside out. Not to mention there was a new male staff member who bullied and stalked me. And the school just told me to ignore him and wait till the end of the year. That he wouldn’t be returning and things would get better. Some male staff members asked if I only THOUGHT he was bullying me. I started to get misdiagnosed with ailments because the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me. I wasn’t eating. I wasn’t sleeping. I started to get hospitalised because my kidneys were acting as if they were shutting down.

I was spiralling out of control.

My breaking point was Joel. He was fighting with me one morning. The few fights we have ever had in our now 7+ years of our relationship. He hated this school. He hated what it was doing to me and he wanted me to quit for a while now. He had a job of his own. We could have technically survived until I found another job.

You have to understand. I didn’t want to leave the students. But even at work, things were falling apart, the drama festival was being sabotaged. I could see the school was doing to me what they did to the gay high school teacher. I tried not to let them see how it was affecting me. My friendships with the staff members were deteriorating. All I had left was my one teacher friend and even she was getting to her breaking point. And mine was when Joel grabbed my shoulders and looked me directly in my eyes. His own filled with tears and he said, “This place is killing you and if you keep this up, the students won’t have you anyway. They’ll lose you. I’ll lose you. Michael, I can’t lose you. Please. Don’t go.”

I typed my resignation letter that day. I still had a term to go but I didn’t care. I handed it in, with the promise I’d see my duties through and that was that. The school turned on me quicker than the pigeon that flew away when I told it I was gay. Duties and jobs that I loved doing that helped build relationships with students was taken away from me. Staff started treating me badly and I’ll admit, I started to lash out too. I was tired of it all.

So many teachers who called me friends were no longer friendly.

I walked away from that school and so did half a dozen or more teachers that year, including my one teacher friend. I never heard from the others again.

So, I went from having church friends, job friends and family overseas to just Joel. I was also now a substitute teacher in the public system. All within a year.

I crumbled. At this point, I’m in and out of the emergency room. I am trying to hold it together so that I can go teach casually and the attacks just kept coming.

I found happiness in Joel and teaching children. I’m starting to write more and more. I’m doing anything to keep me afloat. I even try and reach out to my family overseas again to try and salvage a relationship.

One school tells me I need to tone myself down. I’m too excitable. I’m too loud.

Another school tells me I need to avoid talking about my partner until I have a full-time job. I need to keep the conservative staff happy. A school even turned me away when I introduced myself at the office. “I’m starting to think you won’t fit in here. You know what, let’s just forget today. But thanks for your time.” The school preferred to split the students up than have a gay teacher come in.

And the icing on the cake for me was when I finally got hired into the school, I had such a terrible stage leader so terrible that she got drunk at the staff Christmas party and referred to me as the fag she works with to other staff members and their partners…and then having said partners corner me and Joel in the bathroom with a beer bottle saying ’Heard you like to suck on bottles, how about you suck on this one?” And when Joel and I reported that to the principal he said to us both, “These teachers have had a rough year. They’re letting their hair down. Don’t take it personally.” It was a toxic environment anyway. After that, I stopped caring. The leader and her coven tried to spread rumours and lies and I just played into it. I lost all respect for the teaching community. Documented everything. Secretly recorded conversations. All in case it blew up in my face. Worst of all, I lost myself as a teacher. I couldn’t do what was best for the kids I was responsible for. The staff would withhold programs and the necessary equipment I needed to teach. And the ‘friends’ that I did have? They succumbed to the lies and filth that poured from this school.

So, Joel and I made the decision that it was best that I step away from teaching for good and focus on my writing. I joined a writer’s group. In this writing group, I flourished. I helped organise radio shows and public speaking. I got to take part in a Sydney writer coming to the group, who took me under her wing and helped me get out there and read my poetry and short stories in public. I finally felt like I was on the right path.

But before we get any further, we’re going to need to rewind. There’s more to this story. A parallel happening at the same time as my teaching career falling apart. For many people it’s not easy being openly gay still in Australia. All of this took place within the last 7 years for me, but it’s still going on for many others out there. A sense of not feeling a part of society. Alienation from friends and family. All because one day I danced in a gazebo and fell in love.

Check out Part Two here: https://www.michaelstoneburner.com/coming-out-gay-an-open-letter-part-two/