“Why Can’t We Learn About This?” Sexual Minority Students Navigate the Official and Hidden Curricular Spaces of High School

Abstract

In the spaces of high school, sexual minority youth often find that their needs for inclusion are not met by their institutions and those employed within. Through interviews with sexual minority high school students and written questionnaires with high school teachers and other faculty, we find that sexual minority youth are faced with exclusion on a number of curricular levels. Here, we expand the notion of the “official” curriculum to include not only academic curriculums (classrooms), but also campus curriculums (groups) and social curriculums (relationships). Through examining each of these school spaces, we find that the “hidden” heteronormative curriculum directly and adversely affects sexual minority youth on a number of personal and educational levels. Suggestions are provided for changes and additions to high school policies and procedures in order to better serve sexual minority high school populations.

Keywords

change school improvement students teachers

Introduction

High school can be a place riddled with complications pertaining to adolescent development, sometimes emotionally and physically indicated by embarrassment and awkwardness as teenagers discover themselves among their peers. Most of these uncomfortable moments arise from the awakening of sexuality that occurs during adolescence (Reynolds & Koski, 1995). While managing their new-found desires, adolescents in the United States must also prepare for their futures by means of attaining an education, with schools acting as “important socializing institutions that prepare adolescents for adult roles and postsecondary education” (Pearson, Miller, & Wilkinson, 2007, p. 523). Sexual minority youth have been referred to as the “invisible minority of the adolescent population” (Nichols, 1999). We argue that while these youth may be unseen within their age groups, they are perhaps even more invisible within their high schools, particularly when considering the hidden (informal) curriculum that is applied to the more established, recognized, and formal academic, campus, and social curriculums present within educational environments. In fact, these milieus may be intricately related; Nichols (1999) links the heterosexualized content of high schools to the lack of validation of feelings, identities, and behaviors of sexual minority youth.

To date, there have been very few studies examining the educational experiences of sexual minorities in high school, and even less considering sexual minorities’ dating practices during adolescence (Elze, 2003; Eyre, Milbrath, & Peacock, 2007). For sexual minority students, their educational institutions, as well as many other dominant social structures such as work, family, and peer groups, operate under presumed heterosexuality: the system’s—in this case, their schools’—inability to recognize differences in sexuality (Epstein & Johnson, 1994). Due to the fact that most sexual minority students have previously internalized the cultural norms of heterosexuality, they are socially differentiated from their heterosexual peers as they develop an understanding of their sexual identity. This separate, and sometimes unequal, position dictates that sexual minority students may at times feel deviant in comparison with their heterosexual classmates. Realizing their non-heterosexual identities amidst high school cultural norms of “straight” can lead to internalized homophobia, perceived stigmatization, and discrimination and violence—factors that lead to stress in homosexuals, often at significant levels (Meyer, 1995). All of these components ultimately place sexual minority students at a disadvantage in educational environments.

In recent years, there has been an increase in the amount of research done on the psychological and psychosocial effects of growing up as a homosexual youth in a heteronormative society. Sexual minority students score higher on tests of depression scale symptoms; for example, sexual minority males have been found to be 20 times more likely than their heterosexual peers to report engaging in self-harm (Almeida, Johnson, Corliss, Molnar, & Azrael, 2009). Other studies specifically addressing school achievement and success have shown that sexual minority youth, in comparison to their heterosexual peers, display behavioral issues in school, have lower grade point averages, feel less attached to their schools, have lower educational expectations, do not take academically rigorous classes, and are more likely to receive failing grades (Busseri, Willoughby, Chalmers, & Bogaert, 2006; Pearson et al., 2007; Russell, Seif, & Truong, 2001). This evidence elucidates the link between sexual minority status and poor academic performance, which is often produced by the stresses related to an inability to fit into heteronormative high school society.

The focus of this research is to identify issues within high school that promote social and personal stress within educational institutions in order to establish possible remedies to provide a safe and supportive environment for sexual minority students. Without the social pressures to conform to their heterosexual peers and larger institutions, and the stress that comes with this process, sexual minority students would perhaps be freer to be themselves and participate openly in class, producing an environment that would support positive emotional development. This positive and inclusive environment could possibly reduce, or even eliminate, Meyer’s (1995) three producers of sexual minority stress—internalized homophobia, perceived stigma, and discrimination and violence—and potentially decrease the negative educational outcomes of homosexual students within school.

Though sexuality is often a topic many Americans generally feel should be addressed in the home and not at school, it can often be more difficult to address within students’ families. Research conducted by Flowers and Buston (2001) indicates that social support for sexual minority youth is often hard to find at home. For racial minority groups, there is often a commonality that is found within the home based on minority cultures or values; if someone from an ethnic minority, for example, gets made fun of at school because of heritage, cultural indicators, or appearance, he or she can potentially find comfort in the family since another member has most likely had a similar experience. These commonalities help affirm minority culture and reduce minority stress. For sexual minority students, however, there is usually no figure in the family or community who is forthcoming in reference to sexual orientation. Students rarely find someone to converse with in the home about their sexual desires, and fears of rejection from families could alienate them further from their immediate and surrounding communities. For many, therefore, educational institutions serve as important resources in the lives of sexual minority students, and often play an integral role in identity development.

Inclusion of topics relating to homosexuality in high school academic curriculums is, to date, rare. When present, the information is often missing appropriate contextualization and therefore taught incorrectly, in unbalanced and hurtful ways (Macgillivray, 2000). There are a variety of reasons for this dearth of information, including state/school district legal restrictions, personal decisions and beliefs made by educators/school personnel, community/family opinions, and school-specific official/unofficial curriculum guidelines. Schneider and Owens (2000) argue that educational institutions need to teach openness, respect, and appreciation of differences/similarities in order to provide a supportive and embracing community for all students. As such, they suggest high schools should be inclusive toward sexual minority students at institutional, classroom/curricular, and interpersonal levels. Schneider and Owens (2000) go on to state that inclusion at the curricular level in high school could happen in such courses as health, sociology, biology, literature, history, anthropology, and home economics. Since students spend such a large amount of time at school, and much of this time is spent with peers, schools are the “ideal place” to educate students about sexual diversity (Nichols, 1999). At the same time, we must recognize inclusion is ultimately not enough, and we need to be aware that educators, counselors, and other school faculty and administrators should be trained and informed so they can be best equipped to serve sexual minority youth, training which could benefit all students enrolled in high school (Schneider & Owens, 2000). School administrations should be made aware that “many school personnel are ill-equipped to handle the challenges that confront them when faced with students of diverse sexual orientations” and have a “lack of skills, sensitivity, and knowledge . . . which hinders their ability to effectively address the needs of sexual minority youth.” (Elze, 2003, p. 226). In addition, schools that provide an open and inclusive culture providing student connectedness can act as an important buffer for at-risk behavioral patterns of sexual minority youth (Nichols, 1999). Due to the fact that school inclusivity has been an elusive possibility for sexual minority youth overall, we as a nation instead find that high schools are much more likely to promote heteronormativity through hidden curriculums.

The role educational institutions may serve in the development of students’ sexual identity formation is enacted through the role of the hidden curriculum. Hidden curriculum is defined as:

[T]he unofficial rules, routines, and structures of schools through which students learn behaviors, values, beliefs, and attitudes. Elements of the hidden curriculum do not appear in the schools’ written goals, formal lesson plans, or learning objectives although they may reflect culturally dominant social values and ideas about what schools should teach.

(Ritzer, 2007, p. 2116).

Ritzer (2007) continues to explain “through the hidden curriculum, students get the message that middle and upper class cultural values, norms, and attitudes are the standard by which all else is measured” and schools reward those who conform to these standards. The hidden (informal) curriculum in high schools includes teacher expectations, peer social networks, and other variables that include academic and social lessons for all students (Nichols, 1999).

The hidden curriculum is expanded by Epstein (1995) to include students as active agents in their own development, depending on themselves and their peers, as much as the school, in the social construction and personal understanding of experiences. Students in high school report gay-based slurs and harassment occur frequently and for males is considered the most “disturbing” form of harassment, and for sexual minority students school-based peer victimization is connected with high levels of school truancy and dropout rates, suicide, drug use, and running away (Birkett, Eselage, & Koenig, 2009; Elze, 2003; Lipkin, 1999; Ngo, 2003; Nichols, 1999; Pascoe, 2007; Williams, Connolly, Pepler, & Craig, 2005). Current estimates indicate as many as 40% to 50% of teen runaways are sexual minorities (Campos, 2005). Leading up to this number, recent surveys and studies have found that homosexual students have a truancy rate between 30% and 40%, and while the national high school dropout rate for all adolescents is 11%, the average for sexual minority teens is between 26% and 28% (Campos, 2005; Macgillivray, 2000). We must explore the reasons why sexual minorities are more than twice as likely to drop out of high school in comparison to heterosexual teens. Since harassment based on sexual identity often originates from the school-based peers of sexual minority students, peer groups remain “an important context to be examined when considering prevention and intervention efforts” (Williams et al., 2005, p. 480). The hidden curriculum of high schools not only includes the ways sexual minority students are ignored within the classroom, campus, and social aspects of school, but conversely the ways in which they are sometimes negatively highlighted through peer exclusion.

In the present argument, the term hidden curriculum will be expanded to include how students play an active role in the construction of the school’s values through their interactions with teachers, faculty, and other school administrators. We will be examining how heteronormative hidden curriculum is present within the following three spaces: classrooms (academic curriculum), groups (campus curriculum), and relationships (social curriculum). By focusing on the cycle between student action, faculty and administrative inaction (or improper action), and student response, the present research uncovers how this cycle holds an even stronger negative connotation for homosexual youth while it is disseminated among all school members. This cycle directly affects school space and its climate, eventually leading to negative socioeducational experiences and outcomes for sexual minority students.

Method

Theta High School is located in a largely working class suburb, adjacent to a major metropolitan area in the United States. There were a total of six formal interviews conducted with sexual minority youth, as well as ten written statements from faculty who worked at the school the students attended. All six student participants were of Hispanic descent. Five of the student participants were high school seniors (18 years of age), with one recent graduate from the same school (20 years of age). Two of the youths identified as lesbians and four identified as homosexual males and have self-identified as homosexuals to their peers and teachers. The population of the school and the surrounding area is primarily Hispanic, as reflected in the student population. The students were also representative of the three academic tracks used in the high school: one in honors, three in general education, and two in the lowest track. All formal interviews were conducted in a conference room at the local library, digitally recorded on a laptop, lasting between 40 min and 1 hr.

Students for the study were identified based on their involvement in the school’s lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) group, and then selected from those who were age appropriate to the study (18 and older). Participating students then assisted in identifying more interviewees through snowball sampling. Questions asked focused on their levels of identity openness within the school and perceived campus climate, their adolescent development in terms of relationships with dating partners, and perceived representation and levels of social and institutional support within Theta High School. Each student was allowed to choose his or her own alias for this study. All the names of places or people mentioned in interviews have been changed to retain privacy.

Faculty respondents for this study were chosen based on occupational title in an attempt to gain perspective from different views represented within Theta High School’s faculty. Six teachers were chosen, as well as two counselors, one social worker, and one nurse. The faculty respondents consisted of three men and seven women. Six of the faculty respondents were Caucasian while four were Hispanic. The question provided to the faculty members was “Can you please write a page or two on the status and representation of gay students within your school?” The question was left as open as possible in an attempt to avoid any perceived question/answer bias, and all responses were between one and two written pages. All faculty members submitted their written responses between 2 and 4 days after receiving the question. Faculty members are referred to by their work title as to maintain privacy and provide context for their statements.

Results

Academic Curriculum: Classroom

A positive, supportive environment where a student feels represented and noticed is undoubtedly the ideal situation for any student, yet sexual minority students are underrepresented, undersupported, and unnoticed. When asked about a time when homosexuality was academically presented in their high school setting, none of the participants could remember it being mentioned in a class. After some consideration, Cassandra remembered once, in history class, there was a story about a lesbian in the army, but it was brief. Otherwise, there were no mentions of homosexuality or homosexuals in any context while the interviewees were in classes at Theta High School. Lipkin (1999) explains that “although teachers might draw attention to the links among other prejudices, they often see homophobia as separate, unrelated, and beyond the scope of the K-12 syllabus” (p. 3). This missing academic content is not very surprising given that while there have been recent suggestions that the high school literary canon should include nonmajority perspectives, there have been school censorship cases reported in states across the nation in reaction to efforts of homosexual content curriculum inclusion (e.g., see Lipkin, 1999). In her study of sexual minority youth in New England, Elze (2003) found that while the majority of the adolescents felt surrounded by supportive and caring school faculty and professionals, over half of the same students indicated that none of their courses or school guest speakers included homosexual content.

Alfredo expressed his agitation with the lack of alternate images and perspectives in school. He felt that when he “came out”—self-identified as a homosexual male—to many of his friends they displayed a double standard, whereby they were accepting of him, but not of other homosexual students. He felt that his friends were not knowledgeable enough about homosexuality: “I think that is why it is always important to teach at some level about the culture. We learn about all different cultures around the world, why can’t we learn about this?” Alfredo’s insistence on the importance of homosexuality’s representation in the curriculum reflected his understanding of social relations, specifically those with his heterosexual friends. If his friends could accept him as a homosexual because they had a personal connection and increased knowledge of the lifestyle, representation in the classroom might have the same effect on other students who might not understand homosexuality and/or be less accepting of identity differences.

One of the school’s counselors stated that Theta High School is a welcoming environment, but merely in the last few years. Prior to this newfound positive environment, she recalled a very different type of school space:

I will never forget an in-service workshop we had one day within my first years. A group, PFLAG [Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays], was coming in to discuss their involvement in the community, the resources they offer, etc. A couple of my colleagues refused to attend, saying they don’t agree with homosexuality and they’re not going to have it shoved down their throats. To watch them respond in that way made me wonder how they would respond to a student who may come to them with gender identity issues.

Though this example cannot predict how those colleagues who refused the in-service training interact with homosexual students at school, it is probable that due to their lack of attendance, teachers and other school faculty provide students with information that may be out of date or not aligned with current practices in supporting sexual minority students on campus.

Though the definition of the hidden curriculum states that it does not manifest itself in overt, official curriculum of schools in terms of homosexuality, the intrinsic nature of hidden curriculum to represent culturally dominant social values makes it nearly impossible to separate the hidden from the official curriculum. Even as curriculum design is becoming “stricter” and, in recent years, more closely monitored by local and state governments in primary and secondary schools, teachers at Theta High School are generally afforded the opportunity to choose what and how they teach. The fact that in all 4 years of high school only one participant could recall an instance of homosexuality being academically discussed in a class reflects the cultural values of most teachers and suggests a belief that presenting students with representations of homosexuality is not a teacher’s responsibility and unimportant to the educational process.

Since it is not in the official academic curriculum of most schools, unlike curricular representations of ethnic or racial minorities, discussions of homosexuality fall to the wills of teachers in determining the level of representation homosexuality will have in their classrooms. This is a clear example of how the hidden curriculum bleeds into the overt curriculum, causing a lack of visibility, understanding, and representation of sexual minority perspectives. Lipkin (1999) states that having an inclusive school curriculum representing diversity of sexual orientation provides the following positive outcomes: preparation for life, teaching to student interests, honest and complete curricula, help for gay and lesbian youth, and help for heterosexual youth. Lipkin (1999) continues by asserting that curriculum inclusiveness, in and of itself, has the possibility of being an agent of social change, but this type of inclusivity is particularly dependent on professional development and willing participation by faculty and staff. Implicit and explicit approval and support of high school principals is also crucial to curriculum change (Sanelli & Perreault, 2001). Other studies have similarly uncovered that teachers believe including sexual minority themes in high school curriculums would be difficult without adequate direction or resources from the school, given that teachers believe that they have not received adequate training on how to address issues related to sexual minorities in the classroom or curriculum (Ngo, 2003). In addition, such training is necessary because Ngo (2003) found that teachers often worry that they do not know the “right way” to introduce homosexual themes in the classroom due to a fear of “trivializing” the material or being “inauthentic,” therefore deciding to leave the material out of their classroom curriculums because teachers are “stuck” in a certain way of thinking about what “constitutes good teaching.”

Campus Curriculum: Groups

When asked about the ways Theta represents homosexual students, or what services were available to homosexual students, all students produced the name of the LGBT group on campus. For a while, the LGBT group was without a faculty sponsor, and thus without a place to meet. One teacher, who was asked by a student to sponsor the club, explained the homophobia present within Theta High School’s faculty:

When she first approached me about sponsoring this club, I turned her down because I had been so busy at the time. After asking several other teachers to be sponsors, she came to me desperate for a sponsor. I was appalled when she told me that most of the teachers she approached claimed that they were afraid to sponsor such a club because they didn’t want to be mistaken for the possibility of being gay.

Eventually, the teacher took over as sponsor for the club because of the persistence of this particular student:

She said that she needed to be with other people like her; that she and her friends needed a safe place where they could be themselves. I was so touched by this, and so angry that so many others had turned this amazing kid down, that I decided to take on the extra club.

At the time of the interviews, both of the club sponsors were heterosexual teachers. The club discusses controversies linked to homosexuality and sponsors a variety of events, most recently the Day of Silence—a yearly event supported by the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network (GLSEN; 2008) that brings attention to “anti-LGBT name-calling, bullying and harassment and effective responses” through students and faculty, gay, and straight allies, not speaking for one day (“Truth about the Day,” 2011).

A recent Day of Silence was reported as a success by a few of the teachers who participated in this study. Approximately 20% of enrolled students and 5% of faculty at Theta participated; student numbers suggest significant support from heterosexual students for the event, but faculty numbers do not. Such a glaring lack of support is detrimental to sexual minority students (and we would argue all students) at Theta High School, given that administrators and teachers observably acting upon homosexual students’ behalf, in part, determines students’ positive feelings of comfort within school settings (Elze, 2003). Even with this overwhelming support among students, there were several incidents of opposition among the teachers at Theta High School. The LGBT club sponsor was shocked by the stories she heard upon taking over the club: “One of the problems that actually surprised me the most about these students is the unsettling number of times that our students have felt that they were discriminated against by their teachers.” Some teachers vocally disapproved of other teachers participating in the Day of Silence, and others teachers were unsupportive of students who participated. Cassandra related an encounter with one of her teachers on the Day of Silence, which reflects reverse discrimination sentiments held by some of Theta’s faculty:

I don’t know if he was trying to make me talk or just getting me mad but he was telling me, like, “Why are you being silent?” and I showed him the papers saying why I am being silent for the day. He’s like, “you know, I’m a human being and I shouldn’t be having a silent day because I am straight.” He was saying, like, “your kind . . .” He was saying, like, “I don’t think you should have a special place or special date.” I just got mad, but I didn’t talk.

Lipkin (1999) states that “Homosexuality . . . appears to be a trait about which teachers may say anything negative they please without compunction or broad disapproval” (247). While Cassandra’s teacher expressed his reverse discriminatory views within a classroom setting (academic curriculum space) his negative comments were directed toward the school campus curriculum (group membership).

LGBT groups offer significant advantages for students, with research showing that many students see them as a crucial place to feel safe and create social networks, but the existence of the group is not enough to provide complete support for sexual minority students (Pascoe, 2007). The group’s limitations were pointed out by one of the Theta High School’s social workers:

While students can find this club to be a safe place to meet other students struggling with their same issues, it is not a supportive or psychoeducational group. It is not led by a counselor or social worker who has specialized training in facilitating an open discussion about the issues affecting homosexual students.

In addition to the group’s limitations in the arena of sanctioned social support, Bob and Anastacio suggested that the group continues to have low visibility within the school. Some students and faculty believe that the group does not change the image of gay students at Theta High School. Cassandra offered insight into the lack of student membership in the group: “We don’t have that many people because not a lot of kids want to come out, or, like, if their friends see that they are in the club, or if they are straight, their friends will think that they are gay.” Akin to the teacher’s experience with her faculty peers not wanting to be the club’s sponsor, Cassandra found similar homophobic reasons for why her school peers do not join the club. Due to public events and group meetings, whereby nongroup peers might identify students as homosexual regardless of their sexual orientations, participation in LGBT is often stigmatized among Theta High School’s student body. Anastacio suggested that a minimal amount of students are associated with the club, and those kids are “out to the extreme.” He also stated that club membership is skewed, because most members are lesbians, not gay males or other straight ally students. The club advisor also acknowledged this assertion, explaining that approximately 75% of the active members in the club are females, the other 25% males, and believed “this ratio reflects how difficult it still is for the gay male population to open up with other peers about their identities.” The imbalance in club membership is consistent with studies that find male sexual minority youth have significantly higher emotional risks and lower academic performance than female sexual minority youth (Almeida et al., 2009; Busseri et al., 2006; Pearson et al., 2007; Russell et al., 2001). The largest commonality in the responses between both faculty and student participants in this study was the acknowledgement that lesbian students are very visible, but homosexual male students continue to be underrepresented, within the public areas of Theta High School.

Besides the LGBT club, there is one other school support option available, which is specifically designed for sexual minority students. According to the school social worker, “An assistant principal, dean, counselor or social worker can bring the name of a homosexual student forward if the individual feels that the student needs more assistance to be academically successful.” If enough sexual minority students are identified as academically struggling, a support group can be formed. Support groups can meet during the school day or after school hours and are led by someone with training to address the needs of sexual minority students. Research on similar support groups suggests that these groups can be very valuable and empowering to students, resulting in higher attendance and academic performance, as well as improved relationships between students and their families and educational communities (Uribe, 1995). Unfortunately, this type of group formation requires students to self-identity as homosexual to a faculty member at Theta High School, which, as faculty and student participants suggested, is significantly more difficult for male students than female students. In addition, the process whereby a faculty member then informs a school administrator of a student’s sexual identity can be tantamount to “outing” the student to the educational community, taking away the student’s power to claim and take ownership of his or her sexual identity.

In the case of support, the appearance of the hidden curriculum is quite the opposite of the other two main focuses of this study. Theta High School provided additional support services to sexual minority students, though only if students struggled academically because of their sexual orientation, a reactionary policy dependent on self-reporting academic stress, as well as self-identifying as a homosexual to the school’s administration. Since sexual minority youth often feel withdrawn from their educational communities and are afraid of rejection by school authorities (Pearson et al., 2007), students may not openly discuss their academic struggles because of issues tied to their sexuality. In addition, students may not realize the problems they are having in school are tied to emotional and relational stressors surrounding an open expression of their sexual identities within high school. In this case, the lack of participation on the part of sexual minority students to request help justifies the school’s lack of support, and concurrently reveals the heteronormative hidden curriculum within the structure of school support services.

The participants in this study also acknowledged that there were no assemblies or programs for students within the school that promoted tolerance or acceptance of homosexuality, though there were school sponsored events, assemblies, and programs for other minority groups, exemplifying the choice to exclude—or fail to include—programming aimed at lowering homophobia and heterosexism in Theta High School. Faculty participants recognized only a handful of school in-service learning programs or other continuing education opportunities to assist in lowering homophobia, raising awareness, and/or expanding student services and support among faculty and administration. Even when these types of diversity programs were available, attendance by faculty and administration was not mandatory and, therefore, easily avoidable; a policy which, once again, served to support the hidden curriculum of Theta High School.

Social Curriculum: Relationships

Participation in romantic relationships assists students in developing their sexual identities in tandem with learning valuable relationship skills. Savin-Williams (1998) suggests that committed relationships help “adolescents learn how to relate to another and to experiment in associating intimacy needs with sexuality” to “further clarify who they are and what they desire” (p. 159). For sexual minority youth there are not as many options for connecting romantically with students within their schools as there are for their heterosexual peers. In addition, sexual minority youth may not have anyone to consult with as they reach sexual milestones such as first crush, first kiss, or first date, which is directly opposite of heterosexual students who have their heterosexual peers to use as sounding boards and talking outlets (Campos, 2005). At a crucial time when identity formation is linked with adolescent sexual discovery, sexual minority students usually cannot find someone within their school (primarily heterosexual) social networks to date. Most of the adolescent participants in this study cited either friends or family as sources of helping to find possible romantic partners, or utilizing currently popular Internet networking websites such as myspace.com, facebook.com, or match.com. In the digital age, use of such networking websites has become a predominant resource for meeting potential romantic partners.

With the lack of easily identifiable same age people to date, many sexual minority teens look for partners older than themselves. In a study conducted by Savin-Williams (1998), 70% of homosexual male participants reported that their first relationship was with a man older than themselves, and Bauermeister et al. (2010) found that over half of the students in their study of sexual minority adolescents, both male and female, were romantically involved with someone older than them. Eyre et al. (2007) also found that all of the sexual minority adolescent participants in their study had romantic partners older than them by an average of 3.43 years, for which a number of reasons were given including the fact that older men were able to offer the teens a “model of adjustment that the younger partner may not yet have achieved” (p. 119). In Savin-Williams’ (1998) study, 20% of the respondents had partners more than 7 years their senior, with the extreme being a 30-year difference. One of the teachers at Theta High School recounted the story of a student who met an older man online:

A couple years ago, a gay sophomore boy told me that he was talking online with an older man—35 years old. Later, that boy actually ran away to [another state] to hook up with the guy. When he admitted his homosexuality to his parents he was beaten and kicked out of his house. He ended up living with his aunt. He never did finish school; he just disappeared.

This example also points out another obstacle for teenage homosexual relationships: the views of their parents. Of the six student participants, at the time of the interview only two had revealed their sexuality to their parents, though they all self-identified as homosexual in school. A Theta High School counselor explained this dual identity and family-related anxiety:

What surprises me the most is that some of the students that are very “open” at school have not told their parents. I have also spoken with students that are not open about their sexuality at school or at home. The majority of these students said that they would not come out at school, not because they wouldn’t be accepted, but in fear that their parents would find out.

The faculty commentary on some of the interfering factors contributing to the difficulty in finding suitable dating partners reflect the same fears many of the students in the study self-reported. Savin-Williams (2007) asserts that since students often have older partners due to heteronormative dating cultures in high school, they may be at higher risks for contracting sexually transmitted diseases, particularly when adolescents turn to prostitutes for intimacy, and are generally placed in more danger by participating in sexual acts located in unsafe spaces.

Many students observed a difference between how heterosexual and homosexual students meet their dating partners. Alex stated: “It’s a lot different because heterosexual guys or girls could just, like, go outside of the door and they will see a lot of people and, it’s like, for a homosexual guy or girl, it is like a treasure hunt; you have to go around and look.” Julia gave a similar perspective on this topic, referring to her “gaydar”—her perceived ability to detect other homosexuals around her: “If you know, you just approach them. Simple question. Then you just start to get to know them just like anybody else. Heterosexual couples, they just right aware flirt and try to, like, seduce them in a way.” She later expressed caution, as did some of the other participants, about approaching a stranger. Most participants held at least a mild fear of a potentially dangerous reaction given by a heterosexual student if approached in a way that expressed romantic interest. This self-monitoring of interpersonal interactions often occurs for sexual minority adolescents due to fears of harassment (Savin-Williams, 2007). As such, most students looked for some kind of identifier, such as a rainbow ribbon or bracelet, to act as an icebreaker before romantically approaching someone new. The rainbow, an image commonly linked to the LGBT community, when worn is an example of what are known as clothing “tie-symbols,” often adopted by younger populations as visual expressions that allow “like to find like” (Rubinstein, 2001). Rainbows can signify that someone is either a homosexual or an ally. In this way, a rainbow marker does not guarantee a particular person is a potential partner, but it does provide a minimal guarantee that a negative reaction is unlikely, making it easier for the student to approach the person wearing the rainbow.

Due to the dominant heterosexual nature of high schools, it can be difficult for sexual minority teenagers to find partners. Perhaps this is due to the fact that “because sexuality becomes increasingly central to identity and social relationships during adolescence, schools are critical social contexts in which dominant beliefs about sexuality are played out.” (Wilkinson & Pearson, 2009, p. 546). The experiences of the students in this study were closely aligned to “sexual cruising” in an uncoded school setting: “Uncoded settings are heterosexual environments such as school and restaurants where overtures need to be more explicit, negotiations more covert, and liaisons deferred to a later date” (Eyre, Arnold, Peterson, & Strong, 2008, p. 9). Since interviewees feared danger, and possible resulting violence, when approaching peers with romantic intentions, some sort of icebreaker or “tie-symbol” like the rainbow was welcomed, and often deemed necessary, as a way to make the initial romantic/sexual approach explicit enough for both parties to know how to continue within this somewhat hidden exchange.

Even though interviewees believed their dating experiences were not as numerous as their heterosexually identified peers, most of the student participants felt they were developing comparable positive relationship skills. Most of the participants felt there were essential characteristics of all relationships, whether “gay or straight,” and even if they did not have the same amount of experience as their heterosexual peers, they could learn through conversation and observation what to do and what not to do from the relationships of their heterosexual friends. Variations on heterosexual relationship models are sometimes used by sexual minority youth because there are no public definitions of homosexual dating relationships available to them (Eyre et al., 2007). Particularly, students believed that they had gained the necessary relationship tools for solving conflicts or handling a partner that was cheating from heterosexual peers’ dating experiences. Knowledge of how to handle infidelity is important, given that Eyre et al. (2007) found infidelity was a primary concern of sexual minority adolescents based on previous dating experiences, and anxiety about cheating caused problems in later relationships. Cassandra and Julia felt that homosexual relationships were slightly more mature and seemed to last longer than the heterosexual relationships around them. However, Bob suggested there was a disadvantage: he believed the onset of homosexual dating is later than heterosexuals’, so the former have less experience dealing with a variety of relationship issues.

While the awakening of sexual desires, either heterosexual or homosexual, is a key factor in adolescent growth that aides in the development of building strong, emotional bonds (Savin-Williams, 1998), most research omits the topic of dating choice among school-aged sexual minorities. Many teens begin dating in high school, if not sooner, and start to develop a type of résumé pertaining to the characteristics they look for in a dating partner. Though it is not the implicit desire or responsibility of schools to facilitate relationships among students, it nevertheless happens within the social curriculum and is supported by schools in the form of dances and other social functions that suggest heterosexual pairing. Macgillivray (2000) states that high schools directly reinforce heterosexuality (and ignore homosexuality) through pervasive representation and support of heterosexual relationships and rituals, thereby excluding sexual minority students from fully participating in a variety of aspects within school:

. . . heterosexuality is encouraged and even enforced by the social practices of the school. Consider the election of homecoming king and queen; the tradition of boys asking girls to the prom, and the nods of approval that male students get from teachers as they carry their girlfriends’ books to class. Heterosexual teachers wear wedding bands, display photos of their spouse and children, and openly discuss their family with their students-all examples of reinforcing the social acceptance of heterosexuality to students. There are many opportunities for heterosexual students to have their heterosexual identities affirmed in school, from adolescent dating rituals to student clubs. (p. 310)

Since dating among the heterosexual population of coeducational high schools is not separated from the school environment, the interplay between student dating and school approval creates a structure whereby the hidden curriculum supports heterosexual dating. Therefore, if the function of a school does not involve providing an environment that supports dating amongst sexual minority students, a double standard is established by school administrations that affects both heterosexual and homosexual students. This exclusion is particularly alarming given that one of the 13 fears identified by sexual minority students in Sanelli and Perreault’s (2001) study was “fear of never finding anyone” to love (other fears mentioned by students included discrimination, harassment, loss of family and friends, substance addiction, isolation, and death).

For many of the students in this study, finding someone to date within Theta High School was quite difficult. Since the LGBT group self-reports low attendance numbers, and half the students in this study were not members to begin with, the group itself did not provide a comprehensive environment for dating possibilities, yet it is the only student group option that exists for sexual minority students to meet and get to know one another within school grounds. Many other student clubs exist in high schools, which function to attract students based on interests. Since these clubs primarily consist of heterosexually identified male and female students, the interests that attract them to the club provide a basis for relationships to bloom. In this manner, Theta High School provides many options for heterosexual couples to meet, which is reflected in the commentary by many of the student and faculty participants in this study that heterosexual couples need to “just look around them” to find numerous possible dating partners. For homosexual students, the task of dating is daunting, given the narrower pool from which to choose and fears of misidentifying the sexual orientation of school peers. Many resort to online dating services, but those too can be stigmatized, portraying the students who use them as unable to find partners because of flaws in themselves rather than a lack of visibility and availability within Theta High School.

Though all of the student participants pointed out that their heterosexual peers have been dating for longer and more often, many of them still felt that they were developing relationship skills at the same rate as their peers. All the participants reported low numbers of prior relationships, and a few reported no dating history. While many of the participants felt they learned from observing romantic relationships of friends and family, at the time these interviews were conducted none of the students had been active daters. This lack of experiential dating will probably have repercussions for the students’ dating future. If it is true that sexual minority students leave high school without the necessary relationship skills that most heterosexual students have obtained, one could argue that schools’ hidden social curriculum of heterosexual dating underprepares sexual minority students for important aspects of adulthood. According to Bauermeister et al. (2010), homosexual dating relationships for youth can potentially lead to higher levels of self-esteem and lower levels of internalized homonegativity. In turn, Mohr and Daly (2008) state that lower levels of internalized homonegativity, made possible in part by a positive social climate, lead to better quality relationships between same sex couples. Here we see a very clear interplay between self-esteem levels and opportunities for developing loving relationships. Theta High School students who had been in homosexual relationships felt they had more respect for relationships held with same-sex partners in comparison to their heterosexual peers. Students believed heterosexual peers “took their relationships less seriously” as a result of the larger pool of potential dating partners. The lack of dating options for sexual minority teens, in this instance, was perceived by students to result in longer, more serious relationships and a strong sense of maturity.

Conclusion

During the course of this research, the unmistakable presence of a hidden curriculum in the more official academic, campus, and social curriculums became entirely clear. By and large, it has taken hold in keeping the social status of sexual minority students static, though there has been an “apparent” increase in the acceptance of homosexuality at Theta High School.

A few suggestions can be made from the examination of high school curriculum and the following results of this study. There are steps schools can take to help advance the position of sexual minority students, making high school a more welcoming social and academic sphere. The main causes of stress (cited earlier) in sexual minority students—internalized homophobia, stigmatization, and discrimination and violence—could be reduced within the educational environment if faculty and school administrators adopted a gay-inclusive curriculum that would spread knowledge, empathy, and acceptance pertaining to homosexual issues. Stated simply, sexual minority students “need to have their lives and their concerns represented in the practices, policies, and curriculum of the schools” (Macgillivray, 2000, p. 317). With decreased stress related to their sexual orientation via school inclusion, it can be assumed many of the negative student outcomes revealed in research on sexual minority teens and discussed earlier, such as poor academic performance and expectations, truancy, and dropping out, will dissipate. In fact, Birkett et al. (2009) recently found in their study that a positive school climate reduced negative outcomes for sexual minority youth. Inclusion of themes, discussions, and plotlines pertaining to homosexuality in academic curriculums is necessary, whereby students should be learning about all types of diversity within the classroom. These should not be considered as “alternative” readings or “optional” work, but instead used within the required curriculum. With an inclusive academic curriculum, we can hope there would be many more faculty and administrators trained by schools in how to recognize and serve the needs of homosexual students, increasing the levels of student support available within high schools.

There are numerous ways schools could increase their levels of support for sexual minority students. Support groups for sexual minority students should not be reactionary, rather always available at a set time and widely publicized within the school as to possibly attract students who have questions but are fearful of stigmatized social LGBT groups. Sexual minority students may be unwilling to push for these sorts of programs, but if support groups were available and known among the student body, students might feel more secure in having the option for psychological, social, and/or academic support. Schools need to find, continue, develop, or campaign for funding the employment of “one school only” school psychologists. All too often, school psychologists are either not employed by schools or shared between multiple institutions, which inadequately addresses the psychosocial needs of all students in a given school. Allocating a school psychologist specifically for one institution would allow that individual to spend more time attending to the emotional needs of sexual minority students through the formation of support groups. Walls, Kane, and Wisneski (2010) also suggest that gay/straight alliances in high schools provide support in a variety of forms, including socially connecting students with supportive faculty and staff with an eventuality of finding mentors, assisting in identifying coping strategies, and providing information about openly declaring sexual identities and romantic relationships. Since many students feel anxiety about publically self-identifying as homosexual because they are afraid of family reaction, schools could work with students when they are ready to “come out” to their families. Counselors or social workers could act as mediators to provide advice or resources in assisting parents or other family members who might be struggling to accept their kin’s sexual identity. Programs could also be enacted in the community, through the school’s LGBT group, to increase community awareness and strengthen ties between the school, the larger community, and the students.

In reference to dating, schools could take more responsibility in their function as social networks and provide activities for sexual minority students to meet. One option, since the homosexual dating pool in one school is often too small, would be to have an event in conjunction with numerous local high schools in order to widen social dating circles. For example, schools within a certain distance could organize a different kind of event each month, with the schools providing transportation for students to and from the events. Such events could include the following: peer tutoring, team building activities (e.g., volunteering for local charities), attending a concert or other performance event, visiting a museum, working in a community garden, touring a local college or university, or creating a school/community mural. These events would also provide connections between numerous LGBT groups to share ideas about how to work for a more positive atmosphere within each school, as well as provide opportunities for homosexual students to build new friendships and could result in wider, valuable, and supportive peer networks. If schools take such positive, action-oriented steps for inclusion of sexual minority students within their academic, campus, and social curriculums, they would potentially increase students’ ability to identify dating partners, and therefore significantly change students’ views of their schools. As this research has shown, it is taken for granted that schools support and encourage dating among students. Homosexual students have minimal choices of dating partners in high schools, potentially leaving them relationally underdeveloped. Since many students currently feel stress connected to identifying as homosexuals in American high schools, they do not enter the dating pool. If there was more inclusion at the academic curriculum (classroom) level, there would perhaps be less accompanying stress linked to sexually identifying. If so, students could feel freer to participate in groups and clubs with similar-interest peers to find potential dating partners; thereby, campus and social curriculums would, in kind, follow the academic curriculum to no longer include overt or assumed heteronormativity (hidden curriculum).

School administrators and leaders should accept responsibility for the well-being of all students attending their institutions, which means that there need to be specific policies, practices, and programs in place for diverse students, including sexual minorities. In addition to the above suggestions for academic inclusion in the curriculum, better group support services, and between school events for sexual minority students, we suggest the following five strategies. First and foremost (1) the meaning of “diversity” needs to be specifically defined by school administrators; if the definition of diversity is too general, schools all too often fall back on only addressing the needs of racial and ethnic minorities and not doing so for sexual minority students. Following, (2) money needs to be allocated to bring in guest speakers who represent diversity in a variety of forms, including sexual diversity. Given that Theta’s faculty attested that in-service days pertaining to sexual diversity were optional, the authors suggest that (3) these in-services should be offered and attendance required and/or rewarded in order to ensure school faculty and administrators broaden their knowledge pertaining to the needs of sexual minority students. Another option is (4) to create “homespaces” within schools (see Lopez & Lechuga, 2007; Pastor et al., 2007). These spaces are meant for minority students to feel as if they have a home away from home within educational institutions. Instead of supplying LGBT groups with any available classroom for meetings, institutions could allocate a space on high school grounds for these groups to make their own through decoration, etc.; a safe space where they feel welcomed and represented. Finally, the authors strongly believe (5) schools should be establishing mentorship programs specifically for sexual minority students. These programs are imperative if we wish to decrease the high truancy and dropout rates and encourage the receipt of diplomas among homosexual students. The mentorship program should match sexual minority students with sexual minority leaders and professionals in the community. Quality mentorship has proven to be invaluable to the success of racial/ethnic minorities in the completion of high school, college, and/or graduate school, and we believe the same results would be true for sexual minority students.

Students, faculty, and administrators of high schools must take responsibility if their campuses are breeding grounds for exclusion, intolerance, and nonacceptance. We must find ways to expand the academic curriculum to include discussions of homosexuality, provide welcoming campus and social curriculum spaces for all students in high school, and clearly delineate policies, practices, and programs that support sexual minority students. Equality does not come from concession, it comes from inclusion. Once faculty and administrators can unite as an institution, regardless of personal beliefs pertaining to sexual orientation, a safe and stable environment that encourages knowledge and development of all students is not only plausible, but possible.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Author Biographies

Ingrid E. Castro is an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Massachusetts College of Liberal Arts. She has conducted several qualitative studies on students and their educational surroundings, including the formation and sustainability of interracial friendships in higher education. She also researches the intersection of childhood and agency, particularly representations found within popular culture.

Mark Conor Sujak has worked within public high schools for numerous years. Currently he teaches English and is the faculty sponsor for multiple student clubs at J. Sterling Morton East High School in Cicero, IL.

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