I had a secret identity at school. I was not a superhero; I was queer. My superpower was acting ‘normal’, my cape and mask was blending into the crowd. When I got home, I would ditch the school uniform for something which felt more like me, but it still was never the rainbow super-suit I needed.

Being openly LGBTQ+ at school could have made me feel like an Avenger, but I never got that opportunity. If I had had School Diversity Week when I was at school, could I have found my inner superhero earlier?

I grew up in a small village in the South West, in a town voted one of the “worst places to live in England,” where diversity was certainly not seen as something worth celebrating. The two sides of my family come from different ethnic backgrounds, and I was starting to notice my differences. School can often be a sanctuary to kids who are struggling, a place for growth and an important part in developing your identity. But for me, school was just another place of putting on a “mask”.

I always felt queer, both in my gender and sexuality, but I never felt like this was something to feel proud of. Instead of seeing the superpower which was always in me, I felt weak and unseen. I was looking for a sense of acceptance, for support or a little compassion, but there was never even a mention of LGBTQ+ identities in my school. It was hidden in the dark; a place I felt constrained to. I felt compelled to hide behind a mask, as my school environment left me feeling unsafe to be the real me.

School Diversity Week would have helped me understand the value in my individuality. LGBTQ+ representation at school is extremely important, it shapes how young people see themselves and can empower, encourage, and inspire. Growing up, TV and media lacked the LGBTQ+ representation we see today, but there were moments of positive representation.

During my school years, I watched TV shows like Orange is the New Black, and RuPaul’s Drag Race, and listened to artists like Tove Lo, Frank Ocean, Lady Gaga and Troye Sivan. This was my guiding light into who I was. Google was my teacher, and my education was TV, music, and LGBT+ literature; these are what shaped my identity. But it shouldn’t have been my responsibility to fill in the gaps left by my school, and this self-taught education made me feel isolated and left me without a system of support.