I asked myself: how should I handle being a gay teacher in this British secondary school for the children of military and civilian staff stationed in West Germany? In this third post about my experiences there in the late 70s/early 80s, I want to tell you about my thoughts and experiences as a gay man at that school; where life was certainly very different than it had been during my out socialist Gay Left period in London and at Essex University beforehand.
A film called Nighthawks
But first, a story. Within a few days of my arrival at the base, I learned that West Germany’s second television network – the adventurous ZDF – was to broadcast on TV a newly released film set in London called Nighthawks. ZDF had partially financed this film about a gay teacher coming out in the classroom.
I had been looking forward to viewing Nighthawks not only because I was also a gay teacher wondering about coming out but also because the film had been produced and directed by a London Gay Left friend of mine, Ron Peck. I knew that he’d been working on this film for years so I certainly didn’t want to miss the chance to view it. Given that this was 1978, in those ancient pre-VCR, VHS, DVD and YouTube days, this would have been my one and only chance to see it for the foreseeable future.
Not only did I know the director, Ron Peck, but I also knew several of the extras in Nighthawks. I was more than a wee bit jealous that I hadn’t been one of them myself but I had been out of town when the casting call came. When I watched the film recently online, I took some screenshots of friends Peter, Derek and David who did make it dancing as extras in one of the many bar/club scenes in the film.
The club scenes capture the cruisy look and feel of the emerging “butch is back” attire with those mustaches, muscles and bare chests in this pre-AIDS era. The viewer gets a feel for the joys, desires and one night stands along with a hint of poppers in the air along with the ever-present dense cigarette smoke.
Most importantly, the film is about Jim, a gay teacher like me, and his life in and out of the classroom with its various delights and difficulties around coming out to colleagues, negotiating sex, trying to find love and building relationships.
The climax of the film occurs when the teacher in the film is called out in the classroom as queer/bent by his students. Turmoil results. A film like that was groundbreaking because the teacher stands his ground. Jim calmly and patiently answers the students’ questions and challenges their prejudices, seeing it as a teachable moment, as we would call it these days. Then he gets on with his lesson.
After that incident, though, some parents call into the school to complain. Jim is summoned to the Headmaster’s office and told to never talk about his “sex life” in the classroom again. Jim fights back saying that he wasn’t talking about his sex life at all; only answering his students’ questions about being gay. It’s unclear in the film whether he loses his job or not.
The film ends with long scenes of Jim cruising in the midst of a nightclub that, to me, looked like the famous “Bang’s” Monday night discos held in London at that time.
Click here to view Nighthawks on YouTube:
Click here to see the 6 minute segment of Jim handling his rowdy students in class
It saddened me to learn that Ron Peck, the director, passed away in 2022. Here’s an obituary from the British Film Institute where they say that his film Nighthawks was a milestone in LGBTQ filmmaking. It certainly was.
Watching Nighthawks in my civilian mess
Back to me. As I didn’t have my own TV in my single room, I had no choice but to watch Nighthawks in the TV room of the civilian mess where I was boarding. I have to admit that I felt self-conscious about others potentially showing up and wondering what I was watching. Would I be experiencing my own “coming out” within just a few days of my arrival?
As it turned out, the film was on quite late and only one guy wandered into the TV room while I was there. He asked what I was watching. I told him it was a film produced and directed by a London friend of mine. He said “Oh”. Then “It’s late – I’m off to bed” and he walked out. Early coming out averted.
I found the film gripping with its London scenes, staring eyes, endless cruising, packed dance floors and friends and places I recognized – not to forget that gripping coming out in the classroom scene.
Although the film certainly doesn’t have a “happy ending”, it did teach me to remember that talking about being gay in the classroom was not the same as talking about my “sex life” in the classroom – which I knew was a no-go and also applied to the hets. I only wanted to talk about my life the same way that heterosexuals did – for example, their partners, children, vacations, what they did on the weekend with friends and family life. Just to be myself and not have to constantly be on the alert not to give myself away.
The John Warburton Case
Why did Ron Peck make Nighthawks? It was his reaction to a very true story: in 1974, a real London teacher, John Warburton, did not have his teaching contract renewed because he had responded to questions his students asked him about being gay.
What happened to John was that he, like the character Jim in the film, had been spotted by some of his students at a gay demonstration and the next day they taunted him with questions in class. John answered their questions calmly and honestly and got on with the lesson.
But when some parents and teachers heard about this, they were outraged and John’s contract was not renewed. He asked his teachers’ union, the National Union of Teachers (NUT), to support him as a case of discrimination. The union didn’t – much to the shock and surprise of John and to those of us in the Gay Teachers Group at the time. We were outraged and fought back forcing the union to (eventually) support their member in this case of discrimination.
The turnaround occurred because, in 1981, London elected Ken Livingstone – a progressive mayor – which led to attitudes changing and a teaching job was finally offered to John. But he didn’t take it. He had moved on, having been demoralized and exhausted by the whole ordeal.
It was a landmark case which led slowly to changes in attitudes about gay and lesbian teachers in classrooms: in schools, in unions and in society in general. It also led to this booklet – and to the emergence of the organization, School’s Out, which still exists to this day.
Joining my union
Soon after starting work at Queen’s School, I joined the teachers’ union.
Joining my union shouldn’t surprise you if you read a post of mine about my trade union activities in the mid-70s in my college union, NATFHE, here.
I joined not only because I believed in the trade union movement but also because I would hope for some kind of support from my union if I had problems with coming out as gay in this new school of mine.
The only option I had in West Germany was to join the National Association of Schoolmasters/Union of Women Teachers (NAS/UWT). I knew it to be more conservative than the National Union of Teachers (NUT). It made me think that if the NUT had been reluctant to support John Warburton, I feared for my situation if I ever needed defending.
Despite that – or maybe because of that – within the first term of school, I not only joined the NAS/UWT but I also become of member of its regional Executive. If you can’t fight ’em, join ’em, I thought. Also I was hoping that if I became an activist in my union, I might be more likely to be protected if ever I faced any discrimination or disciplinary action.
My diary records dozens of union meetings I went to over my three years there – in our local area as well as travelling long distances to various army schools in West Germany for Executive meetings, getting to know its movers and shakers, becoming a minor one myself.
We never went on strike but we did have some periods of soft “Work to Rule” action, cancelling some extracurricular activities.
Homophobic comments by my union’s General Secretary
I became quite discouraged because, within a few months of me starting teaching there, I learned that my union’s General Secretary, Terry Casey, had been interviewed by BBC Radio Four. He was asked for his thoughts about a new audio-visual sex education kit that had been produced by a local branch of the Campaign for Homosexual Equality (CHE).
Those courageous CHE souls were, I’m guessing, bravely attempting to bring some element of “positive images” into talking about gay/lesbian issues in the classroom. This created quite a stir in the more conservative press, so the BBC was asking some “thought leaders” what they, well, thought about it.
I don’t have a transcript of the interview but I’m remembering that “my” General Secretary was quite forthright stating that information about gays and lesbians had no place in the classrooms of the nation. Nor did openly gay or lesbian teachers.
When I heard this, I decided that, as a member of “his” union, I should say something. So I composed this letter, typed it up and sent it off:
Here’s his letter back to me – what do you think of his response?
Short and not sweet. He certainly didn’t do any backpedalling. On top of that, he wanted me to know that he had the backing of the union’s National Executive. And what does it mean for me to “manifest my homosexuality”? Just saying I’m gay? And I love his phrase “normally sexed teacher” and “womaniser”. Oh boy.
- Update: I just checked the current NAS/UWT’s website and found this link, which outlines how the union supports LGBTI teachers. My goodness, how things have changed.
- https://www.nasuwt.org.uk/advice/equalities/under-represented-groups/lgbti-teachers.html
So, you ask, did I ever have a problem with being gay at school?
The short answer is that I never got in trouble during my three years at Queen’s School because I was gay.
I will also let you know that, although I never pretended to be straight (I’m not sure I would have been able to pull that off very successfully), I also never officially came out in any class – even in my Sixth Form Sociology classes. In those days, sexuality was not anywhere on the curricula nor in the textbooks so I had no pedagogical reason for bringing it up.
However, I could have brought sexuality into the discussion in imaginative ways quite legitimately, but I didn’t. I was still uncertain of the consequences.
Recently, though, one of my students tracked me down on LinkedIn. It’s been a delightful reconnection. Through her, I also reconnected with a bright A-Level student whom I’d taught for two years. From the distance of 40 years, he had this to say:
- “No, [you] never officially [came out], certainly not in JHQ, although I think we all just knew. Looking back on it, it was probably a kind of “don’t ask, don’t tell” scenario. We were young and trendy so weren’t negative about it at all. Most of the other teachers were in families and older, so you being single and younger gave you a cool edge. On top of that, not only did we find that we had more in common with you than other teachers, but also you volunteered to drive us in the school bus to those live band concerts in Düsseldorf and Cologne!”
Outside of the classroom was different
Having said that, with some students outside of the classroom and some teachers, I did come out – either because they asked me or I knew they wanted to know! That all went fine. Although I never asked them to, they did keep my “secret” from others, as far as I know. My sexuality didn’t become schoolground gossip.
We have to remember that, back in the “olden days”, even in the 80s, we were still much less visible than we are today. Therefore the question of “I wonder if he’s gay?” would not have entered many of the other teachers’ or students’ minds – despite the fact that I was the choreographer for all the school plays, as I told you in my last post! And, not that I want to stereotype, but I did dress somewhat more fashionably than your run-of-the-mill male teacher! And still some didn’t clue in. Or they kept it to themselves.
It meant that I never had to experience being taunted by students with aggressive questions like Jim did in Nighthawks and John Warburton had to do in real life.
Students coming out to me!
In my last few months there, I was approached by two female students in the Sixth Form who wanted to meet up for a chat. I said ok and we went for a coffee. As the conversation progressed, I realized that they had “something to tell me” which was that they were in a lesbian relationship. They felt safe approaching me, they said, because when they came out to a friend of theirs (who was student whom I’d come out to), that friend suggested that they talk to me. So they did.
We ended up talking about all kinds of issues including how they felt about being lesbian as well as strategies about how to come out – in case they ever wanted to – or how to handle not coming out. Not to forget books to read (again, this was pre-videos so I couldn’t offer films to watch).
We met up many times and we even went to some gay/lesbian bars in town together. I hoped that our conversations helped build their confidence. It seemed to. After I left West Germany in the summer of 1982, though, I never saw nor heard from them again so I can’t tell you how they managed.
I think this is an example of how coming out can be crucially important to queer/trans (to use today’s terms) students in schools. Positive role-modelling, as we now call it. Something that Terry Casey, the union boss mentioned above, wouldn’t have cared about or understood.
The End
Well – that’s it for this post. I had thought I’d also be getting into my sex, love and social life here too but this discussion about coming out or not in the classroom took much longer than I’d expected. So that other business will have to wait.
Thanks to the Guardian and the BFI for the photos of “Jim” and other photos from Nighthawks. Also thanks to David Tacium and Bob Cant for their helpful comments and corrections.
By the way, back in 1978, Bob wrote an excellent in-depth analysis of the production of Nighthawks in the journal Gay Left, entitled The Making of Nighthawks. You can find that article in a .pdf of Gay Left No. 7 here.