My name is Caleb Nichols-Mansell and I am eighteen years old and a proud young Aboriginal man from Tommengene land on the North West of Tasmania. I live with my boyfriend Brodie on the North-West Coast of Tasmania and attend TasTafe. I am currently studying for my Certificate III in Business Management under a scholarship through The Pinnacle Foundation.
I would like to share my story, to give you an insight into what I have faced being an openly gay male within the Tasmanian community and how I think change can be made to make schools and the wider community more inclusive for LGBTI youth.
My coming out story begun with my best friend telling my entire high school I was gay just after I had text her in the early weeks of grade eight. She done the honours for me and had broken her promise of keeping it a secret. Just two days later, I was outed – it had happened overnight, online – where I had no idea. I got to school and everyone was staring and laughing. “Hey faggot!” was yelled across the yard and no one was shy confronting me to ask if it was true – was I really a ‘fag’? I insisted it was a rumour. The remainder of that week I spent fighting off the rumours, insisting it was just a lie. Nevertheless, my best friend had the text messages to prove that I had said it and I could not deny physical evidence. I ended up caving in disappointed in my identity, admitting to being gay.
The news was out across the school. Everyone knew I was gay, even my teacher, which made me feel awkward in class. Boys begun refusing to sit next to me, have me on their team or in their group whenever we were in class. Making their reason obvious in front of the teacher, who remained closed lipped.
Lunch and recess were horrible and I actually dreaded the free time I had. Food and profanities were thrown across the schoolyard– most of which I will not mention for the comfort of your own ears and mind. Teachers, grade leaders and the principal despite my numerous complaints of having sandwiches, yoghurt, fruit, and other food thrown at me, threats of physical violence and insults, took no actions. I could not take it anymore and my only option was to stop going to school, I did not feel safe and I was not comfortable.
My best friend had ruined everything with a few simple words. All my friends’ perceptions had changed and I had no one. I could not tell Mum or Dad what was happening because they did not know, and my brother who had heard the rumour did not want to speak about it because he did not understand.
I stopped going to school and began drinking and dabbling around drugs. I fell into the wrong crowd fast and my parents begun noticing a change in my behaviour and attitude. Teachers had called home letting them know I was not at school and the relationship between us all – teachers, parents and myself – begun wearing thin.
I refused to return to the high school to be tormented and my only other option was to move to my biological mothers in Devonport on the North-West Coast of Tasmania. I made the move having no other option —- knowing that I had nothing in Launceston and I was only going downhill, it was for the best.
I enrolled in a private school and it was an utter shock to this public school boy’s system. Religion was introduced and these foreign beliefs enforced. Apparently, homosexuality was a sin and what I was doing was disobeying God’s order. Mum further enforced this when I would get home from school. Again, I was uncomfortable and again I felt ashamed of myself. My confidence, mental strength, and patience were wearing thin and I was not sure how much more I could take. I ended up telling Mum that I wanted to move home and make a mend and within a week, I was on a bus back to Dads.
I moved back home apologizing to Dad for my behaviour and it was not until about two weeks later when we were out on the balcony that I told him I had something I needed to tell him. All ears opened as he listened to what I said, his expression changing the entire time. He butted out his smoke and walked inside saying just ‘OK.” I stayed sitting out the front in the sun and my step Mum walked out telling me her and Dad still love me all the same. Dad was upset and in shock, out in the backyard crying and Mum reassured me that it was okay and she had had her suspicions since I used to dress up in her old clothes. We both laughed and I was relieved. I had to cuddle Dad and we both cried as he told me I would always be his son no matter what. I had found comfort. Acceptance.
Things were on the look-up until Dad mentioned I would have to go back to school in the New Year. I’d be grade nine with two years left of high school before moving onto college and I decided with the support of my family I wasn’t going to let anyone get me down!
The first day back at school came around quicker than I expected and I was so nervous I felt like being sick. I walked across the yard to the foyer for my grade and was greeted with “HOLY SHIT, THE FAGGOTS BACK! COVER YOUR ARSEHOLES BOYS” I smiled and walked in, waiting for the classroom doors to open. I will admit it hurt and dampened my spirits, but I reassured myself I would get through this and make up for a missed year. I found friends fast – I was the gay best friend every girl wished they had and this began to keep me safe as the girls threatened to break up with their boyfriends if they kept carrying on.
It was hard but with perseverance, I got there and year nine was completed, it was the holidays and I could relax. I had settled back into high school with my newfound attitude and had a solid friend base that made me feel safe and happy. Of course, there were still some idiots but I liked smiling at them more than allowing it to hurt. I was confident year ten was mine and with that attitude, I took the year by the horns and rode it until the end, graduating in 2011.
High school years were most certainly the years where I faced the most discrimination. After leaving and beginning college, life became easier and was a lot more ‘me’ than high school.
Today though I want to share my ideas on how I think us, as leaders, advocates, community workers and the government can make our communities and schools safer for LGBTIQ people.
I believe whole-heartedly if there was ever a time in which we could end discrimination against LGBTIQ people in our communities and schools to make them feel safer, IT IS NOW. This generation more than any other is willing to make a change but there are a number of factors that contribute to stopping us. The marriage act as it stands right now, the lack of education and knowledge on sexuality and gender identity all empower homophobia and it needs to change. This gap between LGBTIQ people and the mainstream community further divides and segregates us from what Australian’s consider the norm.
Not enough is taught in schools about sexuality and gender identity. We are taught that we are either male or female depending on what is down stairs and that it is natural to be attracted to the opposite sex. However, what about that boy in the class who has a crush on his best friend James? The teacher never said that was natural.
I am a firm believer in the idea that knowledge is power and more needs to be done within both the education system and community to supply the knowledge needed – if you are going to teach your students or children about sexuality, include gender identity and all forms of sexuality. It is real, we are here, and we are not going anywhere! Let us know that love in all forms is natural, that labels can be peeled off and that we are all unique human beings despite what we do behind closed doors.
We as leaders and advocates need to stand against this shaming we receive as LGBTIQ people and stand tall. We are the leaders of tomorrow, the hope for future generations and right now more than ever we have a podium to stand on and have our voice heard. Use your social networks, spread the word of love and equality, and fight for what you deserve. I will be right beside you!
