Hidden Sexualities of South African Teachers

Black Male Educators and Same-sex Desire

Thabo Msibi

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781138857964
• eBook ISBN: 9781317512554
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education General

South Africa remains a global leader in the legislative protection of individuals who engage in same-sex relations, and is the only country in Africa where the rights of these individuals are explicitly recognized and protected by the constitution. Yet South Africa's identities are still contested and evolving, particularly for same-sex desiring teachers – many are forced to locate their sexualities privately for fear of being ostracized, bullied or losing their jobs, resulting in the miseducation of young people in schools. This volume reveals the various ways in which black South African male teachers construct their sexual and professional identities, how they accommodate structural dictates while simultaneously resisting them, and the effect this has on students.

Presenting the day-to-day experiences of eight same-sex desiring teachers within repressive contexts, this volume challenges the Western origins and assumptions of queer theory, particularly its inability to confront communal forms of social organizing and its focus on individual agency. It asks for more socially responsive theorizing that takes into account the role played by location, race, class, gender and sexual identification within South African and international contexts.

1 From Silence to Visibility

The sexuality of teachers is an issue that has received very little attention in educational scholarship. Yet, as some scholars observe (hooks, 1994; Kumashiro, 2002; Blount, 2005), teachers, like all humans, are sexual beings. The false location of teachers as asexual beings comes from the controlled nature of the sexualities of practicing educators, who are assumed to be unproblematically heterosexual or are harassed if they acknowledge forms of sexual identification that deviate from heterosexuality (Woods, 1990; Mayer, 1991; Griffin, 1991; Jennings, 1994a; Harbeck, 1997; Jackson, 2004; Blount, 2005). Such assumptions ultimately play a silencing role in that all other forms of sexuality are often hidden and rendered deviant. For example, Blount (2005) maintains that educators who do not fall under the category of heterosexuality face many practical, professional, and personal challenges and often have to approach their professional calling with caution, habitually switching gendered pronouns in describing their significant others. In this book, I seek to unpack the various ways in which Black South African male teachers from rural and township contexts, who engage in same-sex relations, construct their sexual and professional identities.

In South Africa, issues pertaining to sexuality broadly, and the sexuality of teachers more specifically, have been characterized by what Lenskyj (1991) refers to as a prevailing ‘conspiracy of silence’; sexuality is not talked about, not asked about, and is heavily policed. This is more so the case when it comes to same-sex relations. Not only are these issues silent in the public sphere, but the South African academy, too, remains closeted in silence on the question of same-sex desire. There is ample literature on issues of sexuality in the context of HIV and AIDS (Varga, 1997; Bhana, Morrell, Hearn & Moletsane, 2007; Bhana & Epstein, 2007; Francis, 2010; Lesko, 2007; Bhana & Pattman, 2009), as well as an emerging body of scholarship on homophobia among students (Msibi, 2012b; Bhana, 2015, 2014), including on homophobic sentiments of teachers (Bhana, 2012; DePalma & Francis, 2014; Francis, 2012, 2017); however, there is a dearth of published research on the lived experiences of educators who engage in same-sex relations, particularly in relation to wider questions of race, empire, and masculinity. In this book, I challenge this silence by attempting, through life history, to understand how eight Black male teachers from rural and township contexts in South Africa, who engage in same-sex relations, conceptualize their sexual and professional identities. I do this as I “seek in some way to inform or bring about change in relation to issues of equity and social justice” (Cole, 2009, p. 572). Given the regulatory regimes of power that govern people’s sexualities, it is critical to unpack the various ways in which empire functions to regulate and govern people’s behaviors, especially in the context of schooling. This books attempts to do this by furthermore unpacking how teachers negotiate the relationship between their experiences of same-sex desire and their forms of professional identification. Hence, the book explores the interface among masculinity, same-sex desire, and teaching.

The focus of the book is particularly and intentionally on Black men given the history of race and empire in South Africa. Notions of Black hypermasculinity continue to inform daily imagination on Africa. I attempt to explore how Black masculinities are constructed and performed in post-apartheid South Africa as a way of speaking back to this problematic positioning of Black men. However, instead of focusing on ‘heterosexual’ men, the book focuses on men who engage in same-sex relations. The book aims to unpack how these Black men define and identify themselves sexually and whether they perceived a link between same-sex identification and their professional identities. This is an attempt to understand how Black men who engage in same-sex relations negotiate their identities and sexualities in social and schooling environments that unapologetically support and promote compulsory heterosexuality.

Another point of interest for this book is the issue of the intersections among sexuality, social class, and race. Morrell (2001) argues that the conditions in South African townships mandate compulsory heterosexuality, often enforced through violence. Lane (2009) notes that “although South Africa has decriminalized same-sex sexuality and outlawed discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, stigma against same-sex identities and practices remains high, and experiences of de facto discrimination are common, particularly in township communities” (p. 69). I was therefore interested in studying how township and rural teachers who engage in same-sex relations, an underresearched group, square their subordinated same-sex identifications with their middle-class teaching identities. I stress here that my construction of South African townships is not one that is built on the racist assumption of these spaces as being inhabited by inherently violent black people. Rather, the focus on townships and rural areas seeks to unpack the ways in which space and place shape people’s experiences.

A final point of exploration is that of the relationship between sexuality and empire. Hardt and Negri (2001) define empire as “the political subject that effectively regulates global exchanges, [it is] the sovereign power that governs the world” (p. xi). In the context of this book, empire is seen in terms of a complicated colonial history that retains a place in the present and includes mechanisms through which the state (with its history of colonialism and apartheid) regulates and governs subjectivities. Sexuality has long been a centerpiece of empire; and regulating sexualities cannot be separated from South Africa’s imperial history, particularly in the formation of a national identity. This is most apparent in the ways in which both the South African colonial and apartheid states sought to control people’s sexualities through the Immorality Act of 1927 and the Sexual Offences Act of 1957. Individuals of different racial backgrounds were prohibited from having consensual sexual relationships, and male-to-male sexual engagements were also outlawed. Interestingly, women were never legally prohibited from engaging sexually with each other. Kopano Ratele provides a sophisticated analysis to show how these acts resulted in sexuality disciplining racial identification while in turn race also came to shape sexuality (Ratele, 2009). No doubt, this was due to apartheid’s patriarchal foundations that positioned women’s bodies as existing for the pleasure of men. I suggest here that the regulation of sexuality for the project of nation building continues today, a point that will be clearly visible throughout this book.

In this chapter, I will briefly highlight the need for this study, including a brief exploration on the reasons that led to this study being undertaken. I will also provide the critical questions that informed the study as well as the significance of this book for scholarship in Education. The next section locates this study within an existing body of international literature, therefore highlighting the need for the study.

Schooling and the Regulation of Sexualities

A study that seeks to explore the sexualities of practicing teachers has to start with an understanding of schools as being deeply political spaces (Epstein & Johnson, 1998), with rigid sets of values that are there to further the interests of a heterosexual state. Schools by their very nature are heteronormative institutions that contribute in the regulation and policing of identities for the greater good of the nation. From their military and panoptical operational expectations to the clear and hierarchical relations between students and staff, student and student, and staff and staff as well as staff and administration, schools function to bring about a social order informed by deep patriarchal historically inherited relations and citations pertaining to gender order and other forms of identification (see Butler, 1990). In contexts where uniformity is prioritized, dissent is often monitored and heavily punished.

Given the above, the identities and sexualities of teachers can never be separated from the teaching process. This is mainly because “teachers are positioned by their gender, age, race, ethnicity, sexual identity, physical ability, and social class. [These] biographical references are often reflected in their practice” (Martin & van Gunten, 2002, p. 46). Not only are these references reflected in their practice, but they are also represented in the public domain. As key socializing agents, teachers are therefore also expected to live exemplary lives. This pressure tacitly assumes that teachers ought to lead “morally upright lives” (Martinossi, 1998). The question of whose morality one is referring to here is never seen as an issue because it is always assumed that social norms dictate moral expectations. Such beliefs not only make it difficult for teachers who engage in same-sex relations to lead their lives as they wish; it also forces them to become complicit in the regulation of learners’ sexualities.

Writing about the regulation of sexualities in schools, Denborough (1996) notes that there is constant surveillance and silencing, except in the highly guarded spaces of sex education, when it comes to addressing matters of sexuality in schools. This, he notes, is systematically done to maintain ‘compulsory heterosexuality’. He writes:

Heterosexual dominance plays itself out in schools in many institutionalized forms. Through the regimentation of splitting boys from girls into lines, classroom and curriculum areas; through the negative same-sex eroticism throughout the curriculum; through unequal coverage or covert discrimination in sex education; and through institutional inaction at routine homophobic taunts and violence. Heterosexuality is a constant backdrop in young people’s lives.

(p. 6)

His views are supported by several scholars (Nickson, 1996; Athnases & Larrabee, 2003; Jackson, 2004; Parrie, 2006; Wardle, 2009) who all maintain that schools censor, regulate, and police sexualities in order to maintain heterosexuality as a normative condition. This is often done under the auspices of ‘protecting’ young people against an outside influence. For example, teachers, as transmitters of culture and morality, are expected to “indoctrinate” (Woods & Harbeck, 1992; Fassinger, 1993; Martinossi, 1998) learners about expected social norms, including sexuality. Fassinger (1993) writes that parents “guard their children zealously as the most vital national resource. They expect teachers to indoctrinate their children in all those values—including heterosexuality—which the nation holds sacred” (p. 121). Although, of course, parents do not deliberately send their children to be indoctrinated, nevertheless, the expectation that teaching would naturally present heterosexuality as the only expected sexual identification is always present. Given this expectation, it becomes increasingly important for teachers who may engage in same-sex relations to hide their identities because their difference may be interpreted in many demeaning ways, which may not only threaten their jobs but also their lives.

Same-sex Desiring Teachers and Schooling

While studies exploring the sexuality of same-sex desiring teachers remain thin in South Africa, internationally there has been scholarship exploring this dimension of work for at least four decades. Studies suggest that same-sex desiring teachers are constantly under pressure because of their sexualities (Jackson, 2004; Graves, 2009; Brockenbrough, 2011; Ferfolja, 2014). It is this pressure therefore that makes this study critical because on the one hand it robs learners of a full educational experience, while on the other it makes the spaces where teachers spend most of their time virtually unbearable.

For example, there is consensus in the international literature that teachers who engage in same-sex relations generally live double lives (Grayson, 1987; Griffin, 1991; Woods & Harbeck, 1992; Martinossi, 1998; Jackson, 2004). At school, teachers “pass” (Griffin, 1991) so they cannot be identified as gay or lesbian. Greyson (1987) notes that “entire lifetimes and careers are conducted through a veil of fear and dishonest[y], rendering open communication with peers, colleagues, and families impossible” (p. 37). These teachers censor their talks, teaching and actions to present a heterosexual front. Rofes (2002) notes that before coming out, he had to check his dress just to make sure that he was not perceived as ‘queer’. This censorship is exercised for a number of reasons. Teachers, particularly male teachers who engage in same-sex relations, are constantly at risk of being seen as pedophiles (Berrill & Martino, 2002; Athanases & Larrabee, 2003). Martinossi (1998) writes that “Parents are generally much more involved in the educational experience of their children at [the K-12] age. Fear of child molestation and/or gay and lesbian teachers’ intentions to recruit children to a gay lifestyle are more likely to prompt them to file complaints” (p. 10). In the United States, as evidenced by Blount’s (2005) fascinating study on the history of gay and lesbian teachers in American schools, there have been systematic and coherent attempts to rid schools of competent teachers on the suspicion that they may “convert” children. Anita Bryant’s campaign in the 1970s was based precisely on the assumption that teachers who engaged in same-sex relations could or were likely to sexually molest children (ibid). Examples of this can also be found in Graves (2009) discussion on the purge of gay and lesbian teachers in Florida, where competent and qualified teachers were removed from schools simply for being gay or lesbian.

Furthermore, literature has also shown that because heterosexuality is held as the norm, homosexuality becomes vilified, viewed as ugly (Nickson, 1996) and sinful (Athanases & Larrabee, 2003), something to be abhorred by all those involved in the schooling system. Such notions therefore not only place the personality of the teachers engaged in same-sex relations into question; they also bring into question even the individual’s competence as a teacher as it might relate to caring for vulnerable, ‘powerless’ children (Murray, 1996). While one certainly does not wish to trivialize child molestation and child abuse, it should nevertheless be noted that the selective scrutiny placed on teachers engaged in same-sex relations is largely unjustified (see Rofes, 2002) and often causes those teachers concerned to doubt themselves, even when not guilty of anything (Murray, 1996; Allen, 1999; Athanases & Larrabbee, 2003). These are the ramifications of homophobia. Teachers sometimes even find it difficult to express public affection. It makes them feel shameful of themselves (Elliot, 1996), and at the extreme, to resort to suicide (Allen, 1999). How then do teachers cope with this pressure?

International research suggests that teachers who engage in same-sex relations manage their identities differently, depending on their experiences, levels of acceptance and collegial support (Ferfolja, 2014; Ferfolja & Hopkins, 2013). In her book Fit to Teach, Blount (2005) notes that the ‘fear of homosexuality, or homophobia, has compelled the reinforcement of strict, polarizing gender behaviors and characteristics among youth and adults’ (p. 3). In essence, as noted earlier, homophobia has a distinct impact on the decisions that teachers make about their forms of identification and sexual practices. While some people choose to live open lives, embracing their queer identities, others choose not to disclose their identities.

Griffin (1991), in her Identity Management Strategies Model, suggests that teachers adopt one of four strategies to cope with their homophobic schooling contexts. The first strategy involves ‘passing’. This group of teachers maintain an exclusively heterosexual identity and often creates sexual partners of the opposite sex and openly lies about their sexual orientation, just to be accepted by society. The group, according to Griffin, experience the greatest inner turmoil because people who belong to it are usually living double lives in relation to sexuality. The second strategy involves ‘covering up’. These are teachers who do not want to be known as homosexual, but unlike the ‘passing’ group, they censor their language rather than lying. They may substitute the pronouns of their significant others in order to ‘cover up’. The third strategy involves being in a ‘glass closet’. This group of teachers is known as being ‘implicitly out’. These are teachers who tell the ‘truth’ about relationships without using lesbian or gay labels. This group of teachers do not mind being seen as gay or lesbian, but they choose not to verify any assumptions made by students or colleagues at school. The final strategy involves being ‘explicitly out’. This is a group of teachers who are comfortable about their gay or lesbian statuses and are openly out to their colleagues and students. Griffin notes that these teachers generally have no inner turmoil because they are usually comfortable with being who they are and do not see the need to hide their sexual orientations.

A very important point highlighted by numerous studies (Woods, 1990; Parravano, 1990; Knowles, 1997) is that of internalization. Scholars maintain that because teachers grow up in highly sexist and homophobic environments, they are not exempt from internalizing ideas about themselves, leaving them with feelings of self-abjection or believing that the dominant discourse is indeed correct. Kissen (1996) notes that this is driven by fear or even confusion. Kissen’s thesis has been corroborated elsewhere. For example, Jennings (1999) and Blount (2005) note that ‘closeted’ teachers often avoid ‘queer’ topics, thereby not exposing the children to the full curriculum experience. This is what Lipkin (1999) describes as being shameful of your identity, possibly teaching ‘queer’ children in turn to hate themselves.

While the work undertaken in the West has been very useful in understanding the ways in which same-sex identity has an impact on the professional identities of practicing teachers, one glaring shortcoming of this great work has been the absence of work that seeks to unpack the ways in which race impacts on same-sex desiring teachers. Most international studies have focused on white teachers, with the voices of Black teachers being relegated to the position of silence. Brockenbrough (2011) is one of the very few lone voices in international scholarship that attempts to bring the question of race to the fore by exploring the experiences of Black male teachers in the United States. Brockenbrough argues that because his participants lived in Black communities, they could not openly declare their sexualities and as such tended to pass as straight. Unlike many Western studies that criticize passing for same-sex loving people, Brockenbrough presents the closet a social positioning that can both be enabling and constraining at the same time.

This present book builds on the existing international literature by seeking to develop the conversation already started by Brockenbrough, through the exploration of Black teachers from a developing context such as South Africa. The book presents new dimensions, however: it not only explores the professional identities of the male teachers but also deliberately brings the social aspect of their lives into the conversation. Arguing that lives are not lived compartmentally, the book is therefore rather different to many educational books. For instance, instead of presenting chapters that exclusively focus on education, the book engages in what Pinar (2010) defines as currere, that is, an interdisciplinary study of educational experience. By this I engage not only with questions related to teaching, but also with the social, historical and institutional dimensions of schooling. The reader will therefore be surprised by the structure of this book as it seeks to disrupt what we have come to accept as educational scholarship.

Research Questions

As already alluded to, the book mostly responds to the dearth of scholarship on same-sex desire in the context of teacher identity in South Africa, a context where the right to sexual orientation is recognized through explicit constitutional means, and where even same-sex marriage is legal. However, these constitutional freedoms do not always translate to positive lived experience as studies have shown (Bhana, 2015; Francis, 2017). The study in many ways unpacks the complexities presented by constitutional freedoms on the subjectivities of teachers. The book responds to the following questions:

• How do Black male teachers, from rural and township contexts, who engage in same-sex relations, construct or understand and narrate an account of their sexual and professional identities in a ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• 1 From Silence to Visibility
• 2 Theoretical and Methodological Framing
• 3 Same-sex Practices and Zulu Masculinity in an Evolving Post-Apartheid South Africa
• 4 Zulu Culture and Christianity: A Marriage of Convenience in Advancing Homophobia
• 5 Internalized Homophobia: Passing to Conform
• 6 Passing for Opportunity: The Unconstrained Sexual Liaisons?
• 7 Passing at School: Excellence and Professionalism as Coping Mechanisms
• 8 Conclusions
• References
• Index