I was a senior in college when I learned a gay man helped save the world.
True story.
Even after years of history lessons about World War II, I was well into my 20s before hearing of Alan Turing, the man most credited with creating the algorithms that enabled the Allies to crack the Enigma code used by the Nazis in World War II.
Before the Turing-led discovery, German submarines were able to find and destroy Allied ships in the Atlantic, crippling efforts to get much-needed supplies to Europe. Yet, instead of Turing being celebrated at the end of the war, this mathematician was arrested for gross indecency under anti-homosexuality laws and ultimately was given a choice between prison or hormonal “chemical castration.” Publicly outed and persecuted, he died by cyanide poisoning at 41 and was all but erased from the history books.
During the “don’t ask, don’t tell” debate of the Clinton era, I wondered how many members of Congress knew how important a gay man working for British intelligence had been to the Allies’ success. Perhaps they would have been less hostile to gays and lesbians in the modern military.
Britons have redeemed the memory of Alan Turing in recent decades. But some Americans have picked up the eraser.
Last week, Republican legislators in Florida advanced HB 1557 — affectionately dubbed the “don’t say gay” bill — which would ban discussions about sexual orientation or gender identity in schools, effectively erasing LGBTQ history, culture and people from the classroom.
It would appear that Gov. Ron DeSantis and other Florida Republicans want to make Turing’s little-known story a complete unknown under the guise of “protecting the children.” As if Florida schoolchildren had no sexual orientation until they were handed a cap and gown at graduation, and as if ignorance of history could turn people straight.
Such a law would be ludicrous in many ways, even making it hard for teachers to talk about Pete Buttigieg, should he run for president again.
And yet we shouldn’t put it past DeSantis to sign this bill. In June, as the five-year anniversary of the Pulse nightclub shooting in Orlando approached, he vetoed funding for mental health programs for survivors of the attack.
Perhaps backers of the “don’t say gay” bill believe that if you stop teachers from talking about LGBTQ people, eventually the public won’t remember events like the Pulse shooting. That’s how the race massacres in Tulsa and Wilmington were swept under the rug until the murder of George Floyd.
Hypocrisy
Therein lies the danger in efforts like “don’t say gay” and the Republicans’ nationwide war on critical race theory, which examines how policies such as redlining perpetuate systemic racism.
DeSantis banned CRT from being taught in Florida’s public schools last year, not that it was part of the state curriculum in the first place. Last month he announced the Stop the Wrongs to Our Kids and Employees (Stop W.O.K.E.) Act, which would allow parents to sue the school district if they so much as smell a lesson plan about systemic racism coming from their child’s backpack.
The hypocrisy grows ever more astounding. DeSantis said: “We won’t allow Florida tax dollars to be spent teaching kids to hate our country or to hate each other,” as if he were somehow protecting Florida tax dollars while introducing a law that would force school districts to settle lawsuits.
We don’t have to let the governor get away with pretending to defend the truth or American values.
Whether it’s the long arc of systemic racism, or the mere existence of gay people, telling the truth about our history isn’t a political statement. Denying our history is.
LZ Granderson is an Op-Ed columnist for the Los Angeles Times.
