My daughter's school wanted her to learn about trans rights. So I kept her at home

Telegraph

4 hours ago

Sarah Jones* has a happy, energetic, sporty daughter named Emma. She has just turned nine and loves nothing more than pulling on her football kit and running to the local park, a ball tucked under her arm. If Emma had been born a decade earlier, Jones would have seen this as little more than a carefree phase in her daughter's childhood. Now, she worries someone might suggest Emma was born in the wrong body.
'Emma isn't girly,' says Jones. 'She plays competitive sports and doesn't wear dresses; she's fantastic. But these conversations around gender identity are very harmful to children who don't conform to stereotypical ideas of it. I don't want her to think that just because she doesn't wear pink, she should be a boy.'
So when Jones received a letter on Monday afternoon informing her that her daughter's school would be celebrating Schools Diversity Week for the next three days – and that Wednesday would be dedicated entirely to discussions, workshops and a Pride march – she was alarmed. The letter said parents would be welcome to come to the school at Wednesday lunchtime to discuss the events taking place.
'I work full time and was given hardly any notice to come in,' says Jones. 'And what good is a meeting on the day itself?'
Launched in 2015 by the LGBT+ young people's charity Just Like Us, Schools Diversity Week has since become a fixture in thousands of schools across the UK. Primary and secondary schools use this time to celebrate the idea that families come in many forms and encourage young people to embrace differences – with the week often culminating in 'Rainbow Friday', when pupils and teachers are encouraged to wear their brightest clothes. This year, Rainbow Friday falls on Friday 27 June. In many communities, the initiative has been embraced as a moment of celebration and inclusivity.
Not age-appropriate
But when Jones looked through the websites the school had encouraged parents to visit ahead of Diversity Week, she was dismayed to find certain sections focused heavily on trans rights. This included sites like The Proud Trust, which offers a trans inclusion toolkit for schools on its website. Much of it, she says, was not age-appropriate.
Helen Joyce, director of advocacy at the Sex Matters campaign group, thinks parents are right to be worried. 'I believe in open-mindedness up to a point, but not so open-minded that your mind falls out,' she says.
'I have two adult sons and one is straight and one is gay and I absolutely support children learning that families come in all shapes and sizes. But one of the worst things you can do to a child is plant the seed of bodily discomfort just a few years before puberty, a time of huge physical and mental change. To tell them these feelings of distress mean you're in the wrong body is downright wicked, and yet schools are doing so all over the country in the name of diversity and inclusion.'
Jones – who has already butted heads with the school over trans issues – knows this all too well. During last year's Pride events, her daughter's class read a picture book about a transgender man that included an illustration of a post-mastectomy body. 'I was horrified,' she says. 'The school told me they weren't showing the images, just reading the text, but for me, that wasn't enough.'
Scarred by this, Jones decided to keep Emma* and her younger brother at home on Wednesday. 'It's the first time I've kept them off school for a reason other than illness. If I knew the kids were only learning about gay and lesbian rights, I would happily have sent them in, as I don't have an issue with any of that. But I can't take the risk.'
Louisa Martin* found herself in a similar situation this week when she decided to keep her sons, aged six and eight, home during their school's Pride celebrations. It was a decision she found personally upsetting, as her brother – with whom she is very close – is gay.
'I won't risk damaging my sons'
'I couldn't be prouder of my brother,' she says. 'It broke my heart keeping the boys home: they know a lot more about gay rights than most of the kids in their class because of their uncle – but I will not expose them to radical gender ideology. It teaches them that if they feel unsettled in their minds, then their bodies have to change. I dread to think what would have happened to my brother if this had existed in his day, and I won't risk damaging my sons.'
The irony, of course, is that most activities during Schools Diversity Week are ones that most parents would support. Both women say they would have welcomed the chance for their children to understand why the word 'gay' should never be used as an insult, and to learn that boys and girls don't have to adhere to narrow stereotypes.
But when Jones met the school's head of diversity and inclusion – a former form teacher of Emma's – she became convinced she had made the right decision. 'She had pride flags all around her desk and refused to hear me out. I said, 'I don't think you can change sex,' and she just shook her head and said, ' Trans women are women.' She wouldn't budge an inch.'
Martin, meanwhile, had to navigate the more personal pain of telling her brother she had withdrawn her boys for this particular week. 'He understood,' she says. 'He was sad, of course. These events should mark how far we've come since our school days in the 1980s. We would both love it to be a happy milestone.'
Instead, it has become a reminder of how complex progress can be.