It's no surprise that kids like Jamey Rodemeyer find themselves tormented at school because of their sexual orientation, some say.

Many gay and lesbian teachers say that too often, schools are unwelcoming, unsafe -- sometimes hostile -- places even for adults who are not heterosexual.

Some teachers say they are stunned by the insensitive or even discriminatory comments they hear from co-workers. Others note their district's reluctance to offer domestic partner benefits to same-sex couples and say that sends an implicit message.

Some say they live in constant fear of backlash from students or parents learning their sexual orientation.

"I can't think of another job where being gay would be so taboo -- just because you're around children, and people think the worst," said one gay Niagara Falls teacher.

Other gay and lesbian teachers say it is important for them to be out at school, so they can provide students positive role models.

"If we do not have the confidence and the strength to come out to a bunch of kids, how in the world are they going to look at each other with dogged fearlessness and say, 'Yeah, I'm gay -- what of it?'" said Amber Buday, who teaches in the youth division of the Buffalo Public Schools' GED program. "It's important. I don't care if you're scared of losing your job. It's much bigger than that."

Jamey, a 14-year-old Williamsville North High School freshman, committed suicide last month after complaining about being bullied for years.

Buday, like most of the other teachers interviewed for this story, said schools may not be any more hostile for the gay and lesbian people who work in them than any number of other workplaces.

But advocates for gay and lesbian students say the climate in the schools matters more, in some ways, than the climate in other places.

That's because if more teachers felt comfortable enough to be out at school, their presence could go a long way toward helping teens like Jamey, who struggle with their sexual orientation, they say.

Many gay and lesbian kids come from families in which there are no other openly gay or lesbian people, leaving them in need of role models, advocates say.

"Whether people like it or not, there are kids out there that at a very young age know they are gay or lesbian," said Marvin L. Henchbarger, executive director of Gay and Lesbian Youth Services of Western New York. "And when they don't see anybody that they think is like them, that's part of what leads to the low self-esteem, to the risk-taking behaviors, to the suicides."

Hiding his orientation

The Niagara Falls teacher waited five years to come out to his colleagues, for fear of repercussions. Finally, he got tired of lying and brought his partner to a holiday party. These days, though many co-workers know he's gay, he keeps that part of his life concealed from students and their families.

"Part of me wants to be out and help the kids. They're screaming for someone to help them," he said. "It's something I struggle with."

Because Niagara Falls has a residency requirement, he often runs into his students outside of school. So when he and his partner want to go out to see a movie, for instance, they usually go to Buffalo.

He worries that if his sexual orientation becomes common knowledge, a student might complain about being uncomfortable around him -- and then, he fears, he could lose his job.

How real is that fear?

Eight years ago, New York State adopted the Sexual Orientation Non-Discrimination Act, which provides workplace protections based on real or perceived sexual orientation.

"Now, with SONDA, we've got a lot of protections, and that helps," said Jorien Brock, senior director of the Pride Center of Western New York. "But there are still the realities of homophobia and stigma. Those are sometimes exaggerated when it comes to school environments. Those fears about homophobia and discrimination and retaliation are real."

In some cases, teachers say their colleagues consistently fail to call out students who make anti-gay remarks.

In more extreme cases, teachers themselves make derogatory comments. For instance, one teacher recalled learning from a student about the way another teacher in the building had been teaching how to divide fractions. Instead of telling students to flip the second fraction, he told them to "flip the faggot." The gay teacher complained to a supervisor.

"There was no write-up on that teacher. There was no follow-up," the teacher said. "I felt like if someone else had come to talk about discriminatory behavior, something would have been done. Discriminatory behavior against gay people seems to be tolerated."

One Niagara Wheatfield teacher -- who is out to colleagues, but not to students or parents -- worries not about losing his job, but about other repercussions.

"I feel there's adult bullying, too -- not physically. I'm worried about the rumors," he said. "I know parents can get pretty nasty and start a firestorm. I don't want it to be, 'I don't want my kid to be with that guy.'"

Many teachers noted that nearly all the recent local cases of teachers sexually abusing students involved heterosexual males. Yet, they said, public perception in some communities continues to confuse homosexuality with pedophilia -- two things that are not related.

The climate in schools varies from district to district, and even sometimes from school to school within the same district -- reflecting the community that each one serves.

"Our communities have certain standards. While teachers have much more freedom to express themselves, and there's much more openness in our society today, even with that, because of the community standards, you're going to have this divide," said the Rev. Arthur Ward Jr., rector of St. Bartholomew's Anglican Church in the Town of Tonawanda.

"But I don't think you should fault the community for having those standards. And I don't think you should fault the teachers for feeling like they can't come out. That's just the way it is. You're not going to have changes one way or the other unless community standards change or districts and teachers become more overt in support of the homosexual lifestyle. It's important for the community to make their voices heard either way without fear of ridicule or harassment."

Throughout Western New York, there are about 36 schools with Gay-Straight Alliances for students, Henchbarger said. In many cases, schools that have had such a group for several years have more openly gay teachers.

Alliance groups help

City Honors was one of the first local schools to start such a group, more than a decade ago. Kenmore West High School in the Town of Tonawanda followed soon after.

Kenmore-Town of Tonawanda Superintendent Mark P. Mondanaro says it's important for schools to do what they can to create "a conducive learning environment," and that includes taking steps to ensure neither students nor teachers feel bullied. His district is among the half of local districts where employees with same-sex partners could get insurance for their partners before the state legalized gay marriage.

He says he has fielded a handful of complaints over the years from people in the community who have religious objections to having Gay-Straight Alliances in the schools.

Philip A. Jarosz remembers attending Kenmore West as a student in the 1990s. Back then, there were one or two teachers who were openly gay, he said. These days, there are four or five, including him.

He attributes some of the school climate to the the Gay-Straight Alliance there. "Safe space" stickers from Gay and Lesbian Youth Services adorn many classroom doors, letting gay and lesbian students know they can find a haven there.

Andrea Augello says she has always been the only openly gay teacher in any Buffalo school she's taught in. Like other openly gay teachers interviewed for this story, she said she has never been hassled by students regarding her sexual orientation.

She doesn't make a big deal about being gay, she said, but the students know that she is.

"I think that if more teachers were out, maybe kids could find safety in it," said Augello, an English teacher at Burgard High School. "My kids are a little more sensitive to gay bullying in my classroom because they know I'm gay. It's only one room, but it's one more than none."

Similarly, Buday says she puts a quick end to any anti-gay comments she hears.

One of the most chronic offensive comments in local schools -- "That's so gay" -- elicits a quick comeback from her: "No, that's not gay. I'm gay."

After some giggles, everyone gets back to work, she says, and instruction proceeds.

"Here's the thing: It does get better. But someone needs to make it better for you right now," Buday said. "It gets better the minute you come talk to me -- because I'm not 14, and I'm not going to let it slide. We can't ask these kids to just hold out for five years. So what are we going to do right now?"

mpasciak@buffnews.comnull