When my new boss ordered me to change my appearance at my first day on the job in a new country, I knew the rest of the year would be an uphill battle.
I was shocked that he felt it was appropriate to say “the children will laugh at you” to a new employee while demanding that they remove facial hair and dress more femininely within hours of their arrival at the workplace – and within twelve hours of their arrival in a new country at that. Especially coming from a man in his fifties to a young person in their twenties. That he had asked a proxy – the female director of another school who I had met barely an hour before – to do it for him made it worse.
Battles with the binary
I didn’t really know how to define myself at the time. Learning the words genderqueer and nonbinary would come later. All I knew at the time was I was determined to be my authentic self and be comfortable, both at home and at my job. I had reason to feel optimistic. I had recently earned my CELTA, worked on-and-off in Italy teaching English at summer camps and in academies between university terms and after graduating. I had spent five years getting a university degree and squeezing in as much experience and practice as I could. I had moved around so often, usually two to three times a year, sometimes between multiple countries, that a change of pace was important. I really wanted to settle into a school and community, put down roots and invest in personal and professional long-term growth. It was time for some stability.
My gender presentation had to be female and feminine.
That first conversation told me that I couldn’t have those things. Not only that, my new boss felt I didn’t deserve to have them either, because I had hair on my face and neck. That didn’t fit with his preconceived notions of gender, and therefore it had to go. My gender presentation had to be female and feminine. That was day one. It went downhill from there.
Assignment of sex is much more complicated than just penis = man, vagina = woman. We know sex (body parts) and gender identity (personhood) are completely different, and sometimes don’t match a person’s gender presentation at all. We know sexuality and attraction are separate too. We now have terminology to describe how people who have always existed.
In my case, I can now describe myself more clearly than I could ever have hoped to on that first day. I can say my sex is female, my gender is nonbinary (or Enby, not to be confused with NB, an acronym for not-black used by people of colour) and my gender presentation is androgynous. I can also say I’m demisexual and demiromantic – I don’t experience physical or emotional attraction to anyone until I’ve formed a strong connection with them. Now I have the vocabulary to put this into words. Back then, I did not.
Sometimes I wish I could go back and use these words to support myself, not that I think it would have changed anything. Some people can only think in binaries. Female or male. Feminine or masculine. Woman or man. Enbies like me don’t fit into that dichotomy, and that’s the problem.
Binaries don’t work
I worked for that company’s English language academies in Sevilla for almost four years, between October 2015 and March 2019. My first year, I was one of a staff of nine. My gender presentation and body hair were constantly questioned and criticised. This would last the duration of my employment. Said boss made sure two of his favourite ‘senior teachers’ encouraged this behaviour. The atmosphere was incredibly toxic. Conversations would end when I walked into a room. Gossiping and complaining were part of the daily routine.
This was the hostile environment my boss liked to create, and he made it clear this was his show. All the power was his. He would schedule meetings only to turn up very late for them. Almost every one-on-one meeting with him included comments about my appearance and complaints about other teachers. When he again sent someone to demand I shave my body hair after several months, I politely told her that he would have to make that unprofessional demand himself.
In order to keep working and escape that environment, I demanded to transfer to another academy in a smaller town, where I was the sole teacher. Getting away from him changed things immediately. I saw him only when he came to pay me and he didn’t police the day-to-day running of school activities. This allowed me to do things like adapting flash cards when a nine-year-old girl saw a picture of white boys in football jerseys and complained, “Football is for girls too!”
The environment was far healthier. I could be myself. I could control when and how the boss communicated with me. I could communicate directly with parents rather than going through the boss. I spoke to other teachers via WhatsApp and was able to avoid the drama. I learned to pick my battles, the biggest being a fight over gender neutral bathrooms. Under orders from the boss, the receptionist tried to put up bathroom signs for boys’ and girls’ bathrooms.
All this before the real question – which bathroom was for me?
This made no sense to me. What would happen if a father had to help his young daughter? Or a parent had to help an elderly grandparent? Or two boys need to use the bathroom – does one have to wait? What about emergencies? All this before the real question – which bathroom was for me?
This became a war of attrition, but it was resolved when I found out the receptionist was advertising her babysitting services in the school. “The boss doesn’t need to know,” she said. “Then he doesn’t need to know about the bathroom signs either,” I replied. It was a small victory, but it meant so much.
Working my way in a smaller, less hostile work environment improved my mental health, little battles like this notwithstanding. But the underlying issues were still there. I should not have been penalised for my nonbinary gender, belittled and pestered about appearance and body hair, or forced to defend my right to go to the bathroom. I should not have had to fight for my identity and gender presentation.
A user’s guide to beating the binary
So here’s my challenge to all English Language School owners out there – take a step back and consider the way you interact with the staff and students at your school. Are you policing their gender identity and presentation with a gendered dress code? Is the workplace environment hostile to genderqueer employees and clients? Are you giving gendered commentary on people’s appearances?
And to all the ELT professionals out there who are making effort to be inclusive, I can’t thank you enough! Keep it up!
As Elizabeth Colemen said in her talk “Why, and how, should one make language classes less heteronormative?”, 50% of Generation Z, between the ages of 5 and 25, identify as something other than heterosexual. These students and newly-qualified teachers need to see themselves represented in materials and in staff hiring. Academy owners, teacher organisations, and educational institutions can and should focus on supporting learners, colleagues, and communities by creating a safe environment. This includes being welcoming of and respectful towards diverse identities. Queer identities and sexualities should be recognised and included in curriculum materials. Think of the disservice we are doing to the students if we do not.
The more we normalise and include LGBTQ+, the more safe and welcoming classrooms, staffrooms, Special Interest Groups (SIGs) and educational institutions we create, the more teachers are likely to stay in a job and feel comfortable and respected there. I know I would have. Queer students, teachers, and school staff need to see inclusion in class materials and be treated with respect and dignity. Young genderqueer teachers should not be made to feel insecure about their appearance on their first day on the job.
In 2021, I don’t think that’s much to ask.
Mx Helen Slee
Contact Mx Helen:
Twitter/Instagram: @helenteacheseng
Website: https://helenteacheseng.com
Facebook: https://facebook.com/helenteacheseng
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