Grapevine-Colleyville school board endangers LGBTQ students with cruel gender policies

I attended Grapevine-Colleyville ISD schools from kindergarten until graduation from Grapevine High in 2018. Grapevine gave me the support to gain acceptance to a handful of Ivy League schools and launch my undergraduate career at Stanford University, where I recently graduated with honors.

But I wasn’t out as gay back home, except to my sister and a few friends. At several points, I struggled intensely with my sense of self.

Still, I loved my upbringing in GCISD. I stayed after school to confide in an English teacher. I was welcomed by friends who showed me the first examples of queer connection I knew. A coach told me that if he had a son, he’d want that son to be like me. While I was always in the minority, I never felt marginalized. This love gave me the foundation to find so much queer joy at Stanford, even if through periods of turmoil.

But on Aug. 22, the school board passed policies that give the board more oversight of library materials, limit discussion of gender identity and prohibit the teaching of critical race theory — effectively banning the word “trans” at school sites. The policies also exclude trans students from playing on sports teams corresponding to their gender identities and give teachers permission to intentionally misgender students. Out of seven board members, four voted in favor: Shannon Braun, Kathy Florence-Spradley, Tammy Nakamura and president Casey Ford.

Seeing the news was almost a dissociative experience. I felt panic and a sense of existential dread. The policies, reportedly resulting from new state laws, further open the door to violence against queer and trans children. They police educators who are already exhausted. They undermine work undertaken over years, including recent student-organized walkouts. I’ve watched my home district embarrass itself many times, but this reaches a new level.

The policies are also absurd, inventing a definition of “gender fluidity” that reduces identity to a point of view. It’s because of Black and trans activists such as Marsha P. Johnson that the Pride movement started and the Dallas Pride parade could resume this year. It’s because of the ingenuity of trans artists that Madonna learned to vogue. The most visible family in American reality television has a trans member, for better or worse. Fortunately, it’s nearly impossible to not say “trans.”

School board members should not get confused: These policies are a matter of life and death. A 2022 national survey on mental health by the Trevor Project, which works to prevent suicide among LGBTQ youth, found that 45% seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year. That included more than half of transgender and nonbinary youth.

GLSEN, which advocates for education policies to protect LGBTQ youth, found in a 2019 school climate survey that 86% of youth reported being harassed or assaulted at school. And after more than two years of life disruptions caused by a global pandemic, students are at their most vulnerable.

Administrative decisions have consequences. In my years at Stanford, I’ve watched queer folks die by suicide, again and again, including one person I knew directly. I’ve watched my communities unravel around me. I’ve stayed up on the phone convincing a friend not to end their life.

Board members, your vote makes it harder for children to see their own place in the world, using their lives as pawns in a political game.

To queer and trans youth in GCISD, or in any school districts passing similar policies: the decisions of adults don’t define you. They act outwardly because they’re afraid to look in the mirror. Your queerness, your transness, is power itself. Why else would they go to obscene lengths to make you invisible? Just by trying, they’ve already admitted their failure.

You’re making the world a better place just by existing as you are. You’re honoring queer and trans ancestors and paving the way for future generations, who will hopefully live more safe and secure lives than anyone today.

The new policies invite lawsuits, but through the commotion, please remember one thing: You are loved.

Vivek Tanna was the Class of 2018 valedictorian at Grapevine High School. He is a Stanford University graduate working in health education and sexual violence prevention. He lives in Mountain View, California.