Tennessee is determined, it seems, to sully its reputation when it comes to matters educational. The state that in the 1920s began the anti-evolution battles by bringing?teacher John Scopes to trial for allegedly?speaking of?evolution in his high-school biology class has moved the so-called ?Don't Say Gay? bill along the path from notion to law. Friday the state's Senate passed, 20-10, the legislation, which mandates that instruction at public elementary and middle schools will be ?limited exclusively to age-appropriate natural human reproduction science.? The bill originally forbade elementary and middle schools to ?provide any instruction or material that discusses sexual orientation other than heterosexuality? but was amended after some lawmakers, according to the Associated Press, noted they were ?uncomfortable? with?such language. Nonetheless, says the legislation's sponsor, Republican Stacey Campfield, the bill's effect is undiminished because ?homosexuals don't naturally reproduce.?
One can defend Campfield by arguing that he is merely attempting to block from public-school classrooms unregulated discussion by untrained teachers of divisive topics. Parents may not be comfortable with their elementary-school-aged children learning about homosexuality at school; such parents may wish to teach their kids about the topic at home, in their own way, and in their own time, and Campfield believes that is their right.
The issue is emotional, and it is easy to castigate Campfield, to fit him for stereotypical southern-bigot clothing, but a charitable assessment of his position reveals?one that is far from ridiculous. It is, however, flawed.
Campfield seems to assume that any discussion of homosexuality must involve sex, but this is untrue. Five-year-olds learn about heterosexuality?mommy and daddy love each other and start a family, blah blah blah?without discovering the particular?bedroom ins and outs of heterosexual relationships. There is no reason to think that homosexuality cannot be . . . ?taught? doesn't seem right; ?imparted,? perhaps? . . . similarly.
And then there's this: is there really a reason for this bill? Is Tennessee rife with instances of elementary-school teachers shooting off comments about gay sex? Are legions of young Tennessee students arriving home confused and mortified, asking their parents to clarify, please, the gossipy homosexuality-themed chit chat in which their teachers habitually engage? Unlikely. Campfield's bill, regardless of its author's intentions, is widely seen as yet another piece of anti-gay, anti-reality legislation sent from south. It's a pointless controversy-maker that comes with a tinge of backwoods homophobia. It ought not become a part of Tennessee's law.