Content note: This essay contains mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation.
One sunny day in Feb. 2023, hundreds of protestors stood in front of the Tennessee State Capitol. The state legislature passed a record number of anti-LGBTQ+ legislation, and the local LGBTQ+ community had enough. Standing alongside them were parents, doctors, and friends—allies who are desperate for change, allies who want this "volunteer" state to be welcoming to all.
The state's legislation has been under the national spotlight since 2021, with bills attacking transgender youth taking center stage. It is a local war on human rights, and LGBTQ+ youth are caught in the crossfire.
"It's their most formative years, and [these bills] really impact how they see themselves and their identities," said Stephanie, a former student from Memphis. "I think legislators know this and are trying to do everything they can to stop kids from being able to be LGBTQ+."
In 2022, over 48 percent of Tennessee LGBTQ+ youth had "seriously considered" suicide in the past year.
Stephanie is also a young person caught in the midst of this political battle. She is a bisexual and non-binary, and like many other queer and trans people, her parents do not accept her identity. The lack of political and familial acceptance in her life has shaped who she is today, forcing her to hide parts of her identity and struggle with her mental health issues alone.
"Feeling attracted to other boys was a huge no-no," Stephanie shared. "I repressed that attraction for a while. I had experiences of fooling around with other boys, but they were secretive and I was convinced that it 'didn't count.'"
She said that she fully realized she was bisexual after a friend came out as gay. "It was terrifying," she explained. "It was like I could actually make a move and the reality of being with a man was there in front of me."
The fear that came with realizing her sexuality was doubled by her school, which had no protective policies in place for its LGBTQ+ students. "If someone was even accused of being LGBTQ+ we would be treated differently by staff," she said. "I don't even know of anyone who was openly LGBTQ+ at school."
This sentiment has been echoed by LGBTQ+ students across the state, but Reddit threads, Instagram comments, and tweets from local LGBTQ+ students point to something much larger than standalone fear: LGBTQ+ students in Tennessee are experiencing a mental health crisis.
IN THEIR OWN WORDS: THE YOUTH MENTAL HEALTH CRISIS
For LGBTQ+ young Kentuckians, community matters for mental health
Students have long called on lawmakers and school officials to address their mental health needs in schools. A young trans person in Kentucky shares how they and their friends are dealing with Senate Bill 150, which bans gender-affirming health care.
In the Trevor Project's 2022 National Survey on LGBTQ Youth Mental Health by State, it was reported that over 77 percent of LGBTQ+ youth living in Tennessee experienced symptoms of anxiety related to their gender identity and/or sexuality, with over 61 percent reporting that they had experienced depression. Over 48 percent of LGBTQ+ youth had "seriously considered" suicide in the past year.
The same report included that 61 percent of the surveyed youth wanted mental health care but did not receive help, and that 78 percent had experienced discrimination based on their gender identity or sexuality. But the report also outlined something key: when young people had access to affirming spaces and community acceptance, it improved their mental health.
The countless amounts of young people who have taken to the internet to share their experiences and concerns often post about feelings of depression and isolation. In 2022, in a post written for The Education Trust, a nonprofit focused on equity for students of color, Tennessee students said that schools, communities, and programs should make an effort to make it clear that they are inclusive. Local students have also expressed disdain relating to the local government and their school environments, which seem to be doing a relatively poor job of providing them support. Instead, these young people are often attempting to create those affirming spaces themselves.
This is especially true for Aria Inaba, a student organizer who helped to organize a drag show and storytime event at her school, stating that she feels state legislators are "pushing us [LGBTQ+ youth] into a corner and silencing us."
The event was hosted by the Young Democratic Socialist of America chapter earlier this year, just weeks after the governor signed a bill to ban drag in public spaces, making Tennessee the first U.S. state to do so. The show drew in a crowd of hundreds (including state representative Gloria Johnson and a few counter-protesters). Although the point of the event was to be for all ages, the university forced the organizers to make it 18+ only. "We had to accept their terms," Inaba explains.
Despite having a pride center and allowing YDSA's drag event to be hosted on school property, Inaba said that her school could be doing more for its LGBTQ+ students. According to Inaba, there have been on-campus complaints about educators who have used slurs in reference to the LGBTQ+ community.
Students at ETSU have felt that their complaints were ignored by school staff, particularly on the topic of LGBTQ+-friendly language. Additionally, the school hosted a hot button political and social issues related event from transphobic political commentator Michael Knowles, which LGBTQ+ students created an online petition to protest.
"This state is intent on mistreating people like me, but I still live here and this is my home. I have hope for living here and for the other queer people here, but the future is pretty bleak right now."
Other local schools have received related feedback from both students and staff. Walters State Community College is one of 13 community colleges in the Tennessee system; it falls under the governance of the Tennessee Board of Regents, which has a policy of Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion. Ray White has been a mental health counselor at Walters State's Greenville campus since 2007, where he serves in various groups dedicated to inclusivity.
"I maintain a high visibility as a Safe Zone, with signage indicating my office is a safe space and LGBTQ+ affirming," he said. "Of students coming to see me, I would estimate 50 percent identify as LGBT+." He suspects that, because he is vocal about being a safe space for LGBTQ+ students, those students feel comfortable going to him for help. Despite this, he doesn't receive a lot of students overall, which White says is likely because Walters State is a commuter college. "Students don't hang around here after classes—they go home and engage in their community," he explained. "My biggest impact on our LGBT+ students is being present and affirming, providing resources, and providing a safe space if needed."
Walters State could do more to support their LGBTQ+ students, White believes, but there is one major factor that stands in the way: Outside influence. "…We have a very closeted community here in North Eastern Tennessee due to a local history of aggression and oppression towards the LGBT+ population," he said.
Chris Sanders, the executive director of The Tennessee Equality Project, an organization that advocates for the equal rights of LGBTQ+ people through legislative measures, shares a similar sentiment. "Our universities are controlled as if they were under a microscope. The type of legislation being passed is micromanaging what happens at our schools."
Sanders, who is part of the LGBTQ+ community himself, said that when LGBTQ+ visibility is reduced, it has a jarring effect on young people in particular, and that the climate Tennessee legislators are creating is horrific."Students need to put more pressure on their universities and local politicians," he added, explaining that, often, when students receive a "no" from their university administration, the legislature is often the reason the university has had to say no.
Sanders believes that local schools could be doing more to support their LGBTQ+ students—that they want to do more—but that the fear throughout the state is too limiting. Schools don't want to lose their funding and other resources, hence they remain silent and try to do the best that they can behind the scenes.
Despite the seen and unseen efforts to make Tennessee and its schools a safer place for the LGBTQ+ community, it still isn't enough. Local youth can't help but feel they've been left behind, terrified for their futures in a state that seemingly hates their very existence. For thousands of young people like Stephanie and Aria, this emotional turbulence is a part of their everyday lives.
"I'm not safe in Tennessee," Stephanie said. "This state is intent on mistreating people like me, but I still live here and this is my home. I have hope for living here and for the other queer people here, but the future is pretty bleak right now."
She's not wrong.
This essay is part of a series curated by author, journalist, and youth mentor Rainesford Stauffer. In Their Own Words: The Youth Mental Health Crisis was made possible through the sponsorship of The Rosalynn Carter Fellowship for Mental Health Journalism.
