“Immorality” was the word etched in the student handbook of Catholic school Assumption College Iloilo to describe homosexuality—a label slammed by multiple LGBTQ+ groups in 2020 for its prejudice. Queerness, for simply what it is, continues to be condemned in halls that preach unconditional love yet come short of it when it comes to queer students. 

This prejudice runs deeper in gender-exclusive schools with rigid roles. In all-girls institutions, the pressure to conform to gendered expectations remains felt. A school shaped by Catholic values and gender standards affects students’ queer experiences, marked with either silence or noises of pride filling the classrooms. Between prayer rooms and classroom rules, identity is negotiated, discovered, and questioned. But in their journey of self-discovery, students find refuge in those on the same path. 

In Uniform, We Conform

The separation of boys’ and girls’ schools dates back to the Education Decree of 1863, which institutionalized gender-segregated education under Spanish rule. At the center of this system was the Catholic Church, which made girls’ education revolve around religious values and motherhood preparation.

With Western influence, binary notions of sex and gender emerged to enforce social norms and erase nonconforming identities, as discussed by French philosopher Michel Foucault in his book “The History of Sexuality.” Queerness was pushed to the margins, treated as something needing correction by social institutions to maintain the status quo. For instance, in the pre-colonial era, Filipinos could marry anyone with a Babaylan’s blessing—a practice only condemned during colonization.

In spaces like Catholic schools, this rigidity remains evident today, particularly as teens begin to navigate their identities and explore same-sex connections. Through student handbooks and behavioral norms, students’ actions are confined to what is deemed acceptable. These may include enforcing gender-specific uniforms and strict hair regulations, both of which strengthen heteronormative roles. 

The church itself reflects systems of reward and punishment where blessings are given to those who obey and suffering for those who do not, noted Bernadette Neri, a Philippine Literature professor at the College of Arts and Letters. Catholic educational institutions are no exception to this mechanism, compelling students to align themselves with the moral expectations of the school. 

Open Secrets, Ajar Closets

Where expressions of queerness are often prohibited and punished, students in an all-girls school find refuge in one another. “It is as if the four walls of the classroom [were] the only place I felt myself, a true version of myself. I received validation, but most importantly, I felt seen,” said Boe, an incoming third-year student who studied in an all-girls school in NCR for five years and chose to be anonymous. 

A flicker of liberty is also felt through an agentic self, seen in how students deliberately choose when and to whom they come out, as noted by Harris et al. Coming out on their own terms allows girls to surrender the gendered expectations they’ve long been pressured to uphold. 

Coping with institutional repression, queer students develop strategies of expression. As scholars Love and Tosolt revealed in the Journal of LGBT Youth, students in single-sex Catholic schools in the US either stay “under the table” or go “in your face”—some exploring identity privately, others resisting openly through appearance or action. Others cope by entering the online realm, allowing for interactions among queer persons from a greater range of offline social circles.

Blessing in Disguise

As queer students reclaim space through microcommunities, these groups become sites of shared resistance. “The resistance goes from the small, seemingly ‘disproportionate’ rules like having slightly long nails to a rebuttal guised as a recitation answer when someone says something problematic in class,” shared Loquat, an incoming third-year student who spent seven years studying in an all-girls school in NCR and chose to remain anonymous.

However, despite shared resistance, the marginalization of other queer groups remains in question, especially for trans women, intersex individuals, and others, Neri points out. No matter how accepting certain microcommunities may be, the lack of solidified legal protections and recognized rights continues to foster feelings of insecurity among these groups. Authentic belonging remains uneven—one that is not yet fully realized. 

However, there are a few progressive representatives that have begun to make strides, such as St. Scholastica’s Academy San Fernando Pampanga’s directress, Mary John Mananzan, who openly expressed support for the SOGIE Bill in a recent interview, affirming that everyone, regardless of identity, deserves equal rights. There have also been Christian churches, such as Open Table MCC, that advocate for the SOGIE bill and LGBTQ+ rights. 

“Though imperfect, the openness of the community in our all-girls school definitely made it a safe space for all inside the institution. The confidence of a few people created ripples within the school and has allowed us to contribute to the LGBTQ+ community as well,” shared Regulus, an incoming third-year student at Ateneo De Manila University who studied in an all-girls school for 12 years. 

Despite institutional limits, queer students resist, seek freedom, and stay true to themselves. But only when all-girls schools practice radical acceptance and unconditional love can true liberation exist—for those who are out, not yet out, or in between. ●