Recently Gilbert Baker, the man who designed the rainbow pride flag, died. The rainbow flag, created in 1978, was designed to be a symbol for the LGBTIQ movement, representing the diversity of the community.
However, within the same news cycle, in Australia, it was reported that Catholic Notre Dame University in Sydney had had pride flag stickers torn down from the window of its student association office.
The stickers were there to convey a sense of allyship and welcome to LGBTIQ students. 'You have queer students that are struggling,' student association president Dylan Gojak told Buzzfeed, 'and there's nothing, there's no public statement, there's no sign that you're welcome here.'
The official statement from Notre Dame's vice chancellor Celia Hammond was that while they didn't approve the way the sticker had been taken down, the 'symbol is divisive, and the university does not support all that has come to be associated with the rainbow flag'.
Schools' main concern should be the welfare of their students, but that is made difficult when they have an arm tied behind their backs in regards to supporting LGBTIQ students. When even such small gestures like a sticker are deemed 'divisive', it's no surprise that LGBTIQ students can feel isolated and ignored in the Catholic education system.
Religious freedom is important, but with rates of suicide and self harm among LGBTIQ youth worryingly high, using it as a shield to ignore LGBTIQ issues is harmful.
While there were thankfully only a few instances of homophobia in my schooling, silence wasn't the same as welcome. LGBTIQ issues felt illicit somehow. There was an unspoken 'don't ask, don't tell' attitude, where teachers were often mandated not to speak about LGBTIQ issues. When LGBTIQ friends of mine asked for help from counsellors, the best they could do was refer them to outside services.
Micah Scott, the chief executive of youth-led LGBTIQ network Minus18, has seen the effects of this firsthand. 'Many topics, including sexual and gender diversity, are unspoken,' he said. 'It sends a message to already vulnerable young people that who they are is institutionally forbidden, and that they should be ashamed of their identity.'
"The rainbow flag, to me, means safety. When I went to my first pride parade, I felt like crying with relief. The happiness and exuberance on display were the opposite of the shame I had felt."
Gender and sexuality sneaks into education whether we want it to or not. Though my Catholic college was relatively progressive, teachers would use exclusively gendered terms, often referring to our 'boyfriends'. We were allowed to 'debate' same sex marriage, but writing about LGBTIQ issues could lead to you being pulled aside by a teacher. We could take a same sex partner to the formal, but it was school policy to formally ask the principal. When you were told be grateful for the barest consideration, it was hard not to feel like an underclass of student.
Professor Peter Norden, a professor at RMIT and former Jesuit priest, summarised it perfectly. 'In many ways, same-sex attracted students are being asked to remain voiceless and invisible in some Catholic schools.'
To say that students and teachers should simply choose different schools is beside the point. It assumes that students are always in control of what school they are able to attend, when in fact it can be confined by geographical and economic considerations. It assumes that all LGBTIQ students are able to come out to their parents. And critically, it disregards the duty of care that schools have to their students.
There are avenues for Catholic schools to take. Only two Catholic schools have signed up to be part of the Safe Schools Coalition, which is specifically designed to tackle transphobia and homophobia in schools. Schools and universities could institute a Gay–Straight Alliance or other LGBTIQ support groups. And in 2006 Norden wrote a report called Not So Straight, which had a list of 17 recommendations on how Catholic schools could better institute pastoral care for LGBTIQ students, with some deference to Catholic teachings.
The rainbow flag, to me, means safety. Last year, when I went to my first pride parade, I felt a little like crying with relief. There were big rainbow flags waving everywhere. The happiness and exuberance on display were the opposite of the shame I had felt. There was no need to hide who I was here. I benefited in many ways from my Catholic education, but I had lived for 13 years with the implication that my presence in Catholic institutions was to be merely tolerated.
Being Catholic, at its best, is about acceptance and empathy. The Christian groups who are blatantly homophobic are the loudest voices, but definitely not the only ones. Despite those who would rather pretend we don't exist, LGBTIQ students attend Catholic schools. While a rainbow flag sticker may seem like nothing, it can be the starting point to making a difference.
Neve Mahoney is a student at RMIT university. She has also contributed to Australian Catholics and The Big Issue.