The Harmful Gaps in Sex Education for LGBTQ+ Students
“I thought that I wasn’t good enough for the world. I wasn’t good enough to even be mentioned,” Jason says. His words are painful and, frankly, infuriating.
Jason, a 24-year-old student, is one of many LGBTQ+ youth in Singapore who feel overlooked and underrepresented in the local sex education curriculum. He is a graduate of a co-ed public Catholic school, where, like many others, he was made to feel that queerness was something to hide. “It made me feel like I wasn’t important,” he admits, his voice betraying a sense of lingering hurt.
For queer youth in Singapore, schools, which should be nurturing environments, often end up feeling alienating. From primary to secondary school, queerness has been shunned, ignored, or treated as taboo. For some, this is a result of deliberate policies; for others, it is simply a failure to acknowledge diverse identities.
Sex education, as most students recall, consists of basic, often fear-driven lessons about abstinence and avoiding sexually transmitted infections (STIs), with little regard for the complexities of sexual identity. In many cases, LGBTQ+ students are not provided with any meaningful discussion on sexual orientation or gender identity. This oversight leaves them vulnerable, contributing to confusion and shame about their own identities.
For Rachel, a 20-year-old student, sex education at her all-girls school was restricted to a sterile textbook presentation, with little room for open discussion. “Don’t get pregnant. Don’t get into relationships. Abstain,” she recalls. LGBTQ+ topics were only briefly mentioned, with the suggestion that some people have preferences for other genders, but nothing more. “It made me demonize myself,” she says, reflecting on the confusion she felt about her sexuality at the time.
Sexual identity is a difficult thing for many teens to navigate, and for LGBTQ+ youth, the pressure of figuring out who they are is often exacerbated by the lack of supportive resources. When schools only offer binary, heteronormative education, LGBTQ+ students are denied the knowledge they need to understand and accept themselves.
Jason’s experience in his school’s sex education was similarly disheartening. “Queerness was mentioned once, and even then, it was in a very surface-level way,” he says. The subject was treated as something to be brushed aside rather than explored with any depth or sensitivity. This lack of recognition is common in many local schools, where queer identities are either ignored or treated as something to be minimized.
Sex education in Singapore tends to focus on heteronormative, abstinence-driven teachings. There are lessons on the biological changes that come with puberty, the importance of abstinence until marriage, and the risks of pornography and STIs. But queer relationships and sex are rarely, if ever, addressed in detail. “It was very directed at straight couples only,” says Sarah, a recent secondary school graduate. “They never talked about anal sex. It was just about traditional vaginal sex.” For many LGBTQ+ students, this lack of inclusivity leaves them with little to no understanding of their own bodies and relationships.
The absence of queer-specific sex education has real consequences. For queer youth, not only is there a lack of information on how to engage in safe sex, but there is also a lack of guidance on navigating relationships. Sarah points out that the broader sex education curriculum doesn’t equip students to deal with queer relationships. “There were multiple girls I liked, but I was too scared because I didn’t know about sex education in terms of girls with girls,” she says. This fear stems from the lack of proper, inclusive education.
In some cases, LGBTQ+ students have to turn to the internet to find answers. Jennifer, a graduate of a Catholic girls’ school, recalls how she searched online for information about safe sex between women. However, she found that much of the content she came across was either misinformed or catered mainly to gay men, not women like her. This lack of appropriate resources is problematic, as it leaves queer youth to navigate their sexual health without proper guidance or support.
Religion also plays a significant role in shaping how LGBTQ+ issues are addressed in Singaporean schools. For some religious institutions, queerness is seen as a moral failing, which only exacerbates the emotional distress of queer students. Jennifer shares how her Catholic school subtly pushed for a heteronormative environment, creating a sense of inner conflict for many queer students who also practiced Catholicism. “It made us hate ourselves,” she says, recalling the tension between her religious beliefs and her sexual identity.
In some cases, teachers’ personal beliefs about queerness also impact students. Elizabeth, a secondary school student, remembers a teacher’s hostile reaction to two boys hugging in class. In another instance, a teacher distanced herself from Elizabeth when she began presenting as more masculine. These experiences only add to the sense of isolation that many queer students feel at school.
After the repeal of Section 377A in 2022, the Ministry of Education (MOE) made it clear that there would be no immediate changes to the sex education curriculum. This suggests that the focus on heteronormative teachings will continue, despite the growing recognition of LGBTQ+ rights in Singapore. While the repeal of 377A was a significant step, it does not necessarily indicate an embracing of inclusive policies in schools.
Research shows that inclusive sex education is vital for the healthy development of LGBTQ+ youth. Such education not only teaches safety and consent but also affirms the existence and worth of queer students. Without inclusive practices, queer youth continue to face neglect and alienation in the very institutions that are supposed to support them. It’s clear that the education system must evolve to meet the needs of all students, ensuring that LGBTQ+ youth receive the information and validation they deserve.
