By Dr. Laura McGuire
As teachers, we come into this vocation knowing we will love and part ways with many students throughout our career. At the start of the school year, we meet dozens of new shining faces, and like a parent, we love them all equally. But every year we also find a certain special bond with some students over others. This has nothing to do with favoritism, it is simply the human nature of finding common connection. When I meet certain students who share common interests, personality traits, or who connect with me because I offer support through a turbulent time in a way they need, those students stay imprinted on my heart in a unique way. Many of these students are LGBTQ, which gives a special and sacred connection to our educational relationship. Not only am I teaching them a core subject, but I am listening and affirming them on their journey to self-discovery.
Recently, I parted ways with two LGBTQ students, one from years ago and one more recent, both without having the chance to say goodbye. This experience left me heartbroken and wishing I could have shared so much more before our last conversation ended. In life, we often do not get to tell those dearest to us all we wish we could. So today, I write an open letter to these two students and to all of the other baby queers who I have lost touch with but who remain forever in my heart.
Dear Student,
Whenever I meet a new class, I never know who will stand out or who I will create a special bond with. I love discovering this in each of you—whether it’s a shared love of poetry, social justice, or the mutual understanding of how hard it is, and was, to come out to yourself in your teenage years. I am amazed by how teachers in my own life always seemed to appear at exactly the right moment on my path to self-understanding, and I am beyond honored and humbled to have been part of that experience for you as well.
I have been abundantly blessed to stay in contact with many of my students for years after they left my classroom, graduated, and embarked on adulthood. I have held their babies and laughed with them over cups of tea while they shared their hopes and fears. I have seen my queer students blossom as they grew into a place of joy and peace with who they are and as they find a love who cherishes them just as they are.
But sometimes the road diverges in ways and at times when we least expect it. To the students I do not have the joy of still knowing and to the ones who have left this earth and my life too soon, I want you to know a few very important things:
- You taught me more than I could every teach you. I learned more from your journey and your questioning than I could have ever included in my curriculum for you. Thank you for challenging me and allowing me to be there on your life’s path.
- Everything I taught you was already inside of you. I don’t believe educators give knowledge to our students; instead, we facilitate learning environments and allow them to discover truths and themselves in the process.
- Even if we never speak again, I will never stop loving and praying for you. I know that our time together might have ended, but I also know that wherever you are, I am cheering you on. I know that you have great things ahead of you in this life, and for those who have passed on, I now know another angel by name.
Teaching is my divine appointment, and mentoring queer youth is my niche within that calling. I sometimes muse that perhaps a queer angel flies over earth to find LGBTQ youth who need a supportive adult and then sends them my way. Research has shown that LGBTQ youth who report having at least one affirming adult in their lives are 40 percent less likely to attempt suicide.
Even if I couldn’t fix all the challenges you faced, I am glad I could be an oasis in a world that too quickly wants to deny your experience and identity. I wish we could have had a more formal and longer farewell, but I also see that there isn’t really a need for a goodbye, for when we cannot meet in person, we can meet in our hearts forever.
