Israel’s Story

As an elementary school student, I was not a particularly masculine boy. Many of my classmates perceived me as being gay. While most of the neighborhood boys participated in football, basketball, and other physical contact sports, I participated in the performing arts. I excelled in acting, speaking, and reading, and I won first place in many competitions. The other boys in school, including my only neighborhood friend, frowned upon my interest in the arts and academics and made fun of me for what they believed was not normal for a boy, especially a Latino.

One day in 4th grade, as the bell rang for dismissal and all the students ran to retrieve their belongings, I accidently stepped on another student’s backpack strap, causing his bag to drop. “Get off my backpack, faggot!” he yelled. His remark stung and left me in tears. Boys in my school often used this term casually, but I knew his use of the word toward me was purposeful. Although I was not attracted to boys (or girls) at the time, I certainly knew I was different because I talked, walked, and acted in ways that were dissimilar to the other boys in my class. In this one moment, I learned my differences were not acceptable and experienced rejection.

My teacher, Ms. Moreno, saw me crying, and asked what was wrong. After I told her about what happened, she gave me a hug and suggested that I should not let what others think of me hurt my feelings. The next day, Ms. Moreno asked the class to read a story about a young orphaned girl who no longer wanted to go to school because students viewed her lack of parents as too different and refused to speak to her. Ms. Moreno used this story to engage the class in a lesson about accepting others who are different and as a springboard for a class project. Students were asked to bring pictures, letters, stories, or other artifacts that could help us tell about ourselves to better understand each other.

For several days, I looked around the house for something to show my classmates. I gathered pictures and newspaper clippings of me at competitions and cleaned my trophies. I also interviewed some of my uncles and grandparents, which provided me with information on some popular Latino traditions and values my family observed. During the week, I shared my artifacts and thoughts with Ms. Moreno. She supported me and had constant contact with my mother about the project.  Working through this process with Ms. Moreno made me feel proud of the artifacts I was going to share, especially because I felt she understood the innate differences inherent in each of us in the classroom.

From the information other students and I presented, it was clear that differences existed among us. For example, since I didn’t play sports, I didn’t have any trophies or ribbons that showed my interest in athletics. Instead, I had a picture of me with two girls who received second and third place in a school acting competition. Before this presentation, the fact that I was a small boy with a squeaky voice who did not play sports automatically categorized me as a gay boy. After it, the number of uncomfortable questions or comments that students asked me decreased significantly. It seemed that my classmates accepted my differences, and, as a result, my self-esteem increased.

Ms. Moreno’s efforts were a major source of my success in 4th grade. As a result of her instruction, I no longer felt ashamed of how I acted or what I thought. My differences in her class were always present, sometimes unclear and confusing to others, yet always safe in her class.