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'They're more likely to be gay'. 'They catch it from you.' 'They're doing it for your attention'. All things I've had levied at me for being honest with my primary age class about my sexuality and for speaking about identity openly and with care.

Primary classes talk a lot about different cultures, religions and how human identity is central to our personalities (as do secondary classes, of course), and they breed understanding and care for those with different identities to our own. It's in the books they read, the stories they hear and the lessons they learn. Primary teachers plant the seed of understanding and respect for different human experience, for secondaries to nurture and grow.

However, the inclusion of LGBTQ identities in these discussions, lessons and learning can be light in some classes or missing in others. From feedback through social media, it is clear that where LGBTQ identities are excluded from these lessons, it is not through a lack of care but, more often than not, from fear of offending someone, especially the parental community of the school. So, it's left out. Better to say nothing than say the wrong thing. The LGBTQ charity Just Like Us found that, 'One in five (17%) teachers in the UK say they’re uncomfortable discussing LGBT+ topics with their pupils' (November 2021)

Children in the classes where LGBTQ lives and identities are discussed with freedom and openness, often see the most child-led talk around the subject. From my experience, children in classes which teach about and talk about girls marrying girls, families with two daddies, or people who identify with they/them pronouns talk about those ideas with curiosity, respect and 'usuality', because none of it is taboo.

Therefore, children from classes where open and curious LGBTQ discussion and learning happen, are more likely to ask questions, and question and confirm their own identity, not only in respect of LGBTQ themes, but their cultural, religious and linguistic identity, which has a positive impact on their mental health.

Ergo, they're not 'more likely to be gay' by being involved in LGBTQ lessons and conversations. But they are likely to be curious, respectful, happy individuals and that's fine with me.

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2022. Only one more year and we'll be two whole decades on from the repeal of Section 28. General societal feeling towards and understanding of LGBTQ lives, relationships and identities may have evolved and grown to be more open-minded, but the education system is yet to catch up. It is my goal, before the 20 year anniversary of the repeal of Section 28 arrives in 2023, to make tangible steps in ensuring the primary and secondary experiences (within my reach) are inclusive off all types of identities, sexualities and families. ‘Every young person deserves to see themselves, their family, and the full diversity of our world reflected in their curriculum. This includes teaching about LGBTQ+ identities and issues.’ (Stonewall www.stonewall.org.uk/lgbtq-inclusive-education-everything-you-need-know )

LGBTQ themes are a part of daily lives, these days. From TikTok videos with creators explaining pronouns, to viral YouTube videos of celebrities like JoJo Siwa coming out, from public figures challenging expectations of gender stereotypes like Harry Styles to gay men coupling on Strictly Come Dancing: LGBTQ-related conversations are happening everywhere. Whether those conversations are accepting and understanding or closed and challenging, the conversations are being had. No longer are LGBTQ issues dismissed to darkened corners and hushed discussions – they are out there in the light of day for everyone to talk about and ‘normalise’ (for want of a better word).

In the recent guidance for PSHE (in 2020), the DfE includes the education of LGBT issues at both primary and secondary level. However, it states that primary schools can independently determine 'the point at which schools consider it appropriate to teach their pupils about LGBT’ (DfE 2020), therefore not mandating that LGBT lives be represented at primary age if schools do not deem it ‘appropriate’.

From the last ONS population survey results in 2019, 6.3% of the UK population defined themselves as something other than straight. In a 2 form entry primary school, counting children, staff and parents, the total community is approximately 900 individuals, 6.3% of whom, according to statistics, will self define as LGBTQ. Failing to represent the lives and families of those approximately 60 individuals in the education of the children, only serves in pushing LGBTQ lives back into the dark.

How can I, as only one person, do anything to change this? What do I intend to do? As voluntary LGBTQ Staff Network chair for my MAT, I have the pleasure of working with, representing and being the voice for LGBTQ staff within the organisation. It is their ideas and passion that my role allows me to ripple outward and connect with other members of the trust in order to affect change for the staff and children of the organisation. I intend to use the honour and privilege of my voluntary position to elevate the voices of the LGBTQ staff network and find ways to implement small and great changes which make life better for all LGBTQ staff and which allow our young people to see their own lives reflected and their possible futures in front of them.

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Over the past weekends I have watched Strictly Come Dancing with tears in my eyes and pride in my heart.

As a member of the LGBTQ community, watching John and Johannes glide across the floor with grace and synchronicity has made me glow with pride, at seeing a same-sex couple dance with such confidence and  passion.

However, I have to confess that, as a late-deafened person, born, raised and living in the hearing world (with all the difficulties that brings), watching Rose dance fills me with admiration, excitement and anger, which (with a little bit of hindsight) I know realise is fuelled by jealousy.

Rose is an incredible dancer. There is no argument there. Her partnership with Gio is built on trust, mutual respect and a shared understanding of language being so much more than words. Watching them connect on stage is truly beautiful to behold and every dance shows more and more of Rose's capability.

Also not up for debate is how much Rose has done and is doing to raise awareness of deaf lives, how deaf people experience the world and how they navigate and react to things that hearing people take for granted. I take my hat off to her for doing all this with positivity and elegance, rather than anger and a 'poor me' attitude.

Rose really is the best person the BBC could have picked for Strictly's first deaf celebrity.

So what's my issue? Why 'anger'?

Rose speaks so passionately of her community and her shared experience with other deaf people around the country and across the globe - and rightly so. She speaks of comradery and connection with people going through the same things and seeing things the same way. But I'll never have that. And that's where the jealousy eats away at my heart and discolours my view of what is a beautiful and much-needed journey for deaf representation.

Being born hearing and losing my hearing over time, I (and people like me) live caught between the hearing world and the deaf world. Both too deaf for hearing communities and not deaf enough for the deaf community (generally, because BSL is not my first language).

So, seeing Rose and her wonderful, enormous online following so vocally sticking together and rallying as a united team, sticks in the back of my throat and stings my eyes with fear and sadness for the sense of community I so desperately want to experience.

It's not nice, no. But it's human. It is possible to find something absolutely amazing and utterly beautiful at the same time as it raising questions. That's how we grow.

Thank you, Rose, for helping me grow.