North Carolina’s recent legislation, Senate Bill 49, has significantly altered the educational landscape for LGBTQ students. Enacted last August, just before Milo, a 16-year-old transgender student, began his junior year in high school, the law restricts how gender identity and sexual orientation are addressed in public schools. This change has created a challenging environment for many queer students across the state.
For Milo, the new law meant that his Latin teacher no longer asked for preferred names and pronouns. “It would have been more dangerous to do that than to not,” he explained, opting for caution in a climate that has grown increasingly hostile. The law’s supporters, primarily conservative lawmakers, argue that it bolsters parental control over education and mental health, dubbing the first section the “Parents Bill of Rights.” However, critics argue it targets the LGBTQ community, drawing comparisons to Florida’s controversial “Don’t Say Gay” law. Unlike the Florida law, North Carolina’s version mandates that educators inform parents if a student requests to be referred to by a different name or pronoun, a provision opponents say forces educators to “out” LGBTQ students to potentially unsupportive families.
As the school year concludes, many LGBTQ students and advocates report that SB 49 has exacerbated bullying, diminished support from teachers, and fostered a hostile learning environment. Blair Rhoades, a spokesperson for the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction, referred questions to the law’s sponsors and noted that the legislation advises educators to withhold such information if it could lead to abuse or neglect.
State Senators Lisa Barnes, Michael Lee, and Amy Galey, who sponsored the law, did not respond to requests for comment. Galey previously stated, “Teaching about gender identity, sexual activity, or sexuality has no place in the K-4 curriculum,” emphasizing a controlled approach to these sensitive topics.
Noah, a 13-year-old transgender middle schooler from Asheville, shared his concerns. Two years ago, he wanted to test using he/him pronouns and a new name at school before informing his parents, who he believed would be supportive. “I actually told my teacher, ‘Can you use my deadname and she/her pronouns in front of my parents, just until I’m ready,'” Noah recalled. Under the new law, such discretion by teachers could lead to students being involuntarily outed.
Students like Milo and Noah, who have supportive parents, worry about peers who do not. Milo shared, “I have multiple friends who, if their parents found out that they were trans, they would probably get kicked out of their house.” Previously, schools could serve as safe havens for such students, but the new legislation has stripped away this layer of protection.
Isaac, a 17-year-old high school student from Asheville, expressed shock and concern over the law’s enactment. “Kids can be cruel. Teenagers love to use ‘gay’ as an insult, and now it feels like the state is in on it, too,” he said, fearing increased stigmatization and bullying.
Craig White, the supportive schools director for the Campaign for Southern Equality, views the influx of such measures across the country as a coordinated effort by conservatives. He recalled the backlash against North Carolina’s trans “bathroom bill” in 2016 and suggested that the current strategy avoids similar uproar by implementing these laws across multiple states simultaneously.
Despite the lack of national backlash, White noted significant local pushback against SB 49. “People are really fighting hard to keep culture wars out of their kids’ classrooms,” he said, highlighting increased political engagement among parents. The Campaign for Southern Equality filed a federal complaint against North Carolina in January, alleging systemic marginalization of LGBTQ students in violation of Title IX. The case is under review, with Isaac among those who testified in the 113-page complaint.
The three teens interviewed remain resolute despite their frustrations. They report that the law has galvanized them and other LGBTQ students to become more active in their communities and local politics. “It’s really hard at times and it feels like there’s a lot of people who really would just rather you not exist,” Milo reflected. “And like the biggest middle finger you can give them is just to keep being there, to keep existing.”