Parents are the role models and the gatekeepers of our adulthood. At least, that is the premise upon which a growing political shift relies upon. As of writing, the Florida legislature has passed HB 1557, otherwise known as the “Don’t Say Gay” bill, which seeks to set age limits for classroom discussions on sexuality and gender identity. Parents are made the enforcers of this law, entitled to seek injunctive relief if schools violate the policy and demand schools disclose knowledge of their children’s LGBT+ orientation, whether or not the child wishes for them to know. On the opposite side of the coin, Texas Governor Greg Abbott has declared that parents who support their children with gender-affirming medical care must be reported as child abusers under state law. Whether parents are empowered or policed, parents are seen as having the power to determine what their child can do, and as an implication, what they can be.

These brazen political moves may be new, but the role of parents as gatekeepers of children’s coming of age is systematically ingrained into our culture. Where this couldn’t be more apparent is arguably the same place children look towards for an alternative understanding of what they can do and can be: film. 

Since its establishment in 1968, the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA)’s ratings system has been the standard for the content rating of over 30,000 movies. Its initial introduction theoretically freed filmmakers to write LGBT characters as they pleased so long as it was rated properly, in contrast to the previous Production Code that forbid portrayals of “sex perversion” … but you and I both know what that was actually code for.

The thing is that this was initially a four-letter system: G for general audiences, M for mature audiences, R for restricted audiences (no people under age 17 without accompaniment), and X (now labeled as NC-17) for only those 18 and older. However, the M category has since seen multiple changes to adjust and clarify the definition of a “mature” movie. The end result was the creation of two specific categories: PG and PG-13, the former cautioning “parental guidance” of showing this kind of film to children, and the latter further warning of the inclusion of material potentially inappropriate for children younger than 13. The system designed to draw a line between youth and maturity in film has instead passed on that discerning responsibility to, you guessed it, parents.

What you may not be aware of is just how literal that responsibility is. Every movie submitted to be rated is reviewed by a board of eight to thirteen raters. To be clear: There is only one board. The decisions they make, while not binding, might as well be final, with only 1.4% of rated films having ever been appealed and only 0.6% overturned afterwards. 

With this much influence concentrated in so few people, the board’s identities are for the most part hidden from the public, but they have one known commonality: they are all parents. In fact, they are required to be such, with children of ages 5-15 when they first join, moving to the Los Angeles area for the job. Once their children turn 21, they must step down from their position. There’s an underlying assumption to this policy: Only parents active in their roles as guardians of maturity for their own children are “qualified” to play such roles for the movie industry at large.

The criteria for the ratings are just as opaque as the raters themselves. However, a 2015 study commissioned by the Classification and Rating Administration on parents in general serves as a useful frame of reference, considering that 80% of those surveyed expressed trust in the rating system’s accuracy. Out of a list of content parents were asked to rank, sexual content was the most cited as something they would refuse to let their children see (80%), followed by full male nudity (71%), use of hard drugs (70%), full female nudity (70%), and graphic violence (64%). If parents are the gatekeepers of maturity, they seal away sexual imagery with an extra padlock.

To single out sexual content as a particularly heinous taboo denies a frame of reference for teenagers in the process of exploring their own identity and sexuality. On top of that, this limitation is a disproportionate burden for LGBT children growing up. In most social contexts, cisnormativity and heteronormativity is a presupposition. Exposure to role-conforming sex is treated as a given part of growing up. But express interest in gay sex? You’re being either flamboyant or crude with no in-between. Lesbian sex? Either you have daddy issues or you’re indulging in a fetish. God forbid you express interest in sex as a transgender person, because now you’re just being predatory. But you say you’re asexual? Nah, that’s just a phase.

These are of course maligned stereotypes, but nonetheless they hold social power in preventing LGBT people from exploring their identity in fear of coming out. Media like films are a needed space to explore one’s identity independently of such stereotypes. Yet, the association of non-conforming identities with hypersexuality persists in film. Sometimes, it comes in the form of a one-off quip, like in Perfectly Blonde where when Elle is asked to explain why she knows Enrique is gay, she exclaims “gay men know desires – straight men don’t!” Other times however, the stereotype bleeds out from the edges of the screen, like Blue Is the Warmest Color’s 10-minute-long sex scene, which garnered significant criticism for being uncomfortably pornographic, including from the original author and the actresses involved. 

By the way, what rating do you think Blue Is the Warmest Color received? Answer: the most restrictive rating of NC-17. And who spoke out when the IFC Center arthouse theater flouted this rating by allowing in teenage audiences? The Parents Television Council, an advocacy group that on their website makes their purpose ​​clear: “The TV Content Ratings System is failing America’s children … and the PTC is leading the way to fix it!”

Here’s the ultimate question, then: Are films with LGBT representation given more mature ratings? The answer appears to be yes. According to a 2018 study, out of a compiled list of 150 films recommended for queer and questioning teens, 83% are rated R, NC-17, or are unrated altogether, with the latter category making up nearly half of the whole list. In contrast, only 48% of a comparable list of mainstream teen films fell into the same categories. 

Are movies with LGBT characters more restricted because they are more likely to be violent or drop an F-bomb? I doubt parental advocates and raters would attempt this argument. I’m willing to bet that they would instead lean towards the sexuality argument – such films are more likely to be sexually explicit supposedly because that’s an inextricable part of discovering one’s queer identity. 

In that case, I have so many follow-up questions.

Why should queer people need a sexual experience to affirm their identity, but conforming individuals do not? Are LGBT films showing more sex because it’s a universal part of queer people’s experiences, or because they’re playing into their hypersexualized stereotypes? And even if we hold this claim to be true, what gives parents the right to deny their children queer representation because their children are too young for it, but in the same breath, accept exposure to heteronormative sex as part of growing up?

Why do we let parental attitudes dictate what LGBT people can do and be?

I don’t have certain answers to these questions because, full admission, I don’t identify as LGBT. All the way through high school, I knew only one person who identified as such, who I saw being made the laughingstock of my gym class while he smiled and said he felt so accepted for who he was. I didn’t grow up in a conservative environment by any stretch of the imagination, but if you asked me then what I thought about LGBT people, I would have said “I respect their right to be whoever they want to be … but I don’t understand why”. It wasn’t until entering college, learning that several of my friends were LGBT many months after I had first met them, that I began to understand at least one thing.

We all found our own way to grow into the people who we were meant to be. 

I don’t think anyone should have to wait eighteen years before they can learn how to.

As is probably apparent now, I’m not very familiar with LGBT stories, but I feel like it would be hypocritical for me to lament the lack of accessible LGBT representation without doing my part to share it. So here are two suggestions (though these are not films):

The Owl House – I’ve only seen a little bit of the series, but given the high praise it has received, I am confident in saying that is proof that you can honestly depict a budding queer romance in a “child-friendly” show, even while working with (and against) Disney’s spotty track record.

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness – A long while ago, I asked some of my friends for recommendations of stories with realistic LGBT representation. This autobiographical manga by Nagata Kabi was one of them. It does an amazing job at showing how important Kabi’s exploration of her sexuality was for confronting her own maturity and self-image, without sugarcoating or overromanticizing its impact on her life.