Yesterday, it was reported that Parkfield Primary School in Birmingham had announced it would not be continuing its “No Outsiders” programme, which was intended to teach pupils acceptance for other groups in line with the Equality Act, including discussions on same-gender relationships and marriage as well as trans issues. In response to the programme, parents had been protesting outside the school with signs reading “Stop Exploiting Children’s Innocence” and “Education Not Indoctrination.” (The school denies there is a link, saying it was planning to halt the program anyway.)
Fatima Shah, one of the leaders of the protest, was quoted as saying, “We are not a bunch of homophobic mothers. We just feel that some of these lessons are inappropriate. Some of the themes being discussed are very adult and complex and the children are getting confused.”
Shabana Mahmood, the Labour MP for Birmingham Ladywood—where parents have lodged complaints—told fellow MPs, “It is all about age-appropriateness of conversations with young children in the context of religious backgrounds.”
https://twitter.com/ShabanaMahmood/status/1100418693291376641
This quote raises two main issues with regard to the Parkfield story. The first is the “age-appropriateness of conversations with young children.” Mahmood cites Section 34 of the Children and Social Work Act 2017 in her speech, which says that relationships and sex education must be age appropriate and “appropriate to … the religious background” of pupils.
For many LGBT people, this citation will bring back memories of Section 28: the clause in the Local Government Act 1988 which forbade “the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.” The year before it was introduced, then-Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher had told her party conference that, “Children who need to be taught to respect traditional moral values are being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay.”
The message is always that gay relationships are inappropriate for children. A large part of this belief has its origins in the idea that same-gender relationships are inherently sexual, whilst heterosexual relationships are instead about love and romance. Many parents (and politicians) who object to these lessons do so due to a misconception that if children are being taught about gay relationships, surely gay sex must come into it at some point.
In reality, they are simply being taught that a relationship between two women or two men can be just as loving and fulfilling—and, perhaps more importantly, just as normal—as one between a woman and a man. There is nothing “adult” about being gay or bisexual, any more than there is about being straight. These supposed concerns about ‘protecting children’ merely reflect decades of homophobia which contrasted promiscuous, sexual gays with wholesome, loving straight people.
The second point which Mahmood brings up is “the context of religious backgrounds.” Many of the parents who protested at Parkfield are said to be Muslim. Reporting on this story, whether it takes the side of the parents or the headteacher, has been keen to frame it as a conflict between religion and LGBT acceptance—as though these two elements are inherently contradictory.
In fact, there are many religious parents who love and accept their LGBT children, and many more LGBT people who are religious themselves. Religious LGBT people often struggle with what they perceive as a contradiction between their sexuality or gender identity and their deeply-held religious convictions—and declaring or implying that these two identities are incompatible will only hurt them more. Above all, it is fundamentally incorrect: many religions openly condemn homophobia, such as the Quakers, who adopted support for equal marriage in the UK in 2009.
Promoting the false idea that religion is antithetical to LGBT rights and acceptance is also dangerous to LGBT children in religious families, whose parents are being told that they have to choose between accepting their child and following their faith.
Islam, in particular, is commonly claimed to be anti-LGBT, especially by those attempting to promote Islamophobia among LGBT people and allies. But many Muslims are supportive of LGBT people—and many are LGBT themselves. Hidayah is an organisation in the UK whose mission is “To provide support and welfare for LGBTQI+ Muslims and promote social justice and education about the Muslim LGBTQI+ community to counter discrimination, prejudice and injustice.”
In a quote on their website, Shelina says, “I think that you can certainly reconcile being a lesbian and being a Muslim. You can exist and I am living proof of it. I also believe that being gay isn’t condemned in Islam.” Similarly, Choi is of the opinion that “Allah SWT made me the way I am. I could’ve been fashioned as a so-called normal Muslimah, but I’m not. I could’ve easily given up on Islam, but I haven’t.”
Religious and secular parents often have concerns about what their children are being taught, in all subjects, and this is only natural. But whilst we should take religious rights and opinions into account, it is also important to consider the rights of children who are or might turn out to be LGBT.
Knowing that the environment in which they are growing up will tolerate and accept them can make a big difference to a child’s mental health and self-esteem. In addition, schools have a duty to society as a whole to educate and bring up young people to have positive attitudes towards minorities within that society.
Fundamentally, support of and tolerance for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people is entirely age-appropriate for children, and in no way implies the existence of sexual or adult content. Neither is it fundamentally anti-religious for children to have such lessons—in fact, teaching religious tolerance for minorities might encourage LGBT people to retain their faith. The Parkland protestors may say they are not “a bunch of homophobes,” but without those two angles to defend their words from, what’s left?