January 17, 2026 | Garth Zimmermann

Garth Zimmermann: coming out at 50

After coming out, Garth found a life partner, took a stand for LGBTQ students, and reached his full potential personally and professionally.

Garth Zimmermann

"It's never too late to live authentically and use one's voice to protect the next generation."

I have never told any student this for 37 years. I am gay, happy, and proud of who I am. My only sin against God is not accepting the person he made me to be for so long. Anyone who harasses someone for being gay because of their religion better not have eaten any shrimp, because according to Leviticus, they’re headed to the same place they say I am. Know that people support you, love you, and have your back.

I was speaking to two sixth grade boys sitting across the table from me in my classroom. One of the young men, Danny, had been the recipient of a female student’s harassment outside of school. Her family belonged to a bible-based megachurch just blocks from our school, and told Danny he was sinful for being gay and he was “Going to Hell” because of it. The young man had become emotionally exhausted and becoming withdrawn both in and outside the classroom.

His friend, Doug, who was sitting next to him as I spoke, was there to support Danny. He was a young man I knew I could trust. Doug’s older brother knew I was gay, and I was correct that he knew as well. As they left, you could see the burden lift from Danny’s shoulders, and he became a frequent visitor to my classroom before school.

Shortly afterward, I began reflecting on my own journey through life and teaching which had led me to this moment.

Young Garth

Garth and his family

Garth Zimmermann

I grew up in central Wisconsin, home to many dairy farms like the one my parents owned and purchased from my grandparents. I was the youngest child, the only boy, with two sisters who were 13 and 17 years older than me. My mother always commented how she had a high school graduation, confirmation, and baptism the same year!

By the time I was 6 years old, both of my older sisters had married and I became the only child in our household. I knew my parents loved each other, with my mom joining my dad in the barn every morning at 5 to milk cattle and perform other chores before coming into the house to make breakfast. My mom joked in her later years she maintained her health by being a “strong farm woman”, baling and unloading hay, running farm machinery, feeding and cleaning up after cattle.

On a dairy farm, the work is always present, and my father always managed to come up with a “to do” list every morning. Neither of my parents graduated from high school, my dad going to a one room schoolhouse until he “graduated” in 8 th grade; my mom dropped out of Green Bay East High School as a junior to help her mother raise her twin grandsons when their mother died of TB. This lack of schooling didn’t prevent my parents from successfully operating a dairy farm, nor was it an obstacle to respecting both education and educators.

The most powerful social organization within our rural community was Zion Lutheran Church, a tall, wood sided white building with a proud steeple, and no indoor bathrooms. We were Missouri Synod Lutherans, but it wasn’t until years later that I realized the active social conservatism within the church. Every Sunday we would go to church, listening to our minister explaining Bible passages and parables. My mom was a member of the Ladies Aid, my dad an usher and member of the “Men s Club” which met regularly.

I went to Sunday School for 8 years, was confirmed after attending 2 years of Saturday morning Confirmation classes (which got me out of farm chores), read scripture from the pulpit with a voice that everyone could easily hear, ushered each week, and in 8th grade even entertained the idea of becoming a minister.

No one spoke of sex, much less sexual identity, much less same-sex sexual orientation, in our community. Growing up, I never heard the words homosexual, gay, or lesbian.

But in high school, I knew something was different, and not just the fact that, except for a few close friends, I tended to be an outsider. I wasn’t attracted to girls like other guys were, and found myself admiring the bodies of individual male athletes in school or carnival workers at our fair. I still had no clue what any of this meant, even as I entered college.

Because of my positive experiences as a 4-H Junior Leader, I decided to major in Elementary Education at University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point. I loved teaching, and somehow knew I had the organizational and communication skills to be successful in the classroom.

It was also the time I was beginning to recognize my sexual orientation though books like “The Lord Won’t Mind” which I secretly looked at in the campus library, or watching an episode of “All in the Family” which featured Archie finding out his football playing buddy was gay.

Still, I repressed my feelings and never acted upon them. I would meet the expectations of both my church and society to get married, raise a family, and “control” any feelings of attraction I had toward men.

It was in college where I met Judy, where we began a courtship that lasted 7 years until we were married.My first full time teaching position took me to Birchwood, Wisconsin, a K-12 school of 270 students in northwestern Wisconsin. This was the fall of 1977, and I was excited to have a job teaching middle school science and reading, and also took on the position of coaching girls junior varsity basketball.

It was my switch to coach varsity boys basketball in 1981 that the rumors began about my sexuality. I had replaced a prominent parent as coach, thus becoming unpopular on day one. I was criticized for a variety of reasons, but my most vivid memory is when a colleague told me people thought I was too negative with players.

Sarcastically I replied, “What should I do? Kiss a player when he leaves the court?” His eyes grew wide, and he quickly and emphatically responded “Oh my God, don’t do that.”

Right then I knew what the community was saying behind my back, that I was probably gay and had no business coaching boys. While the rumors and innuendo bothered me, I had just married, and hoped that would put any allegations to rest.

I was fired from the position two years later. In hindsight, I believe perceptions my sexual identity became an underlying, and unspoken, reason for my dismissal.

In 1985, we moved back to central Wisconsin when I accepted a 6 th grade teaching position in the Wittenberg-Birnamwood School District, along with the position of Middle School Boys Basketball Coach. One year later, my wife and I had our first of three children.

I was “Teacher of the Year” in my first year, and loved teaching students in a rural district whose backgrounds were similar to mine. Over the next seven years I was a highly successful teacher and coach, father, and yes, husband.

My attraction to men remained, no matter how much I tried to change my thinking while remaining faithful to our marriage. Even in the 1980’s, except for an adult bookstore in nearby Wausau, gay wasn’t anywhere to be seen, much less discussed.

Appleton, Wisconsin is a city of about 71,000 people thirty minutes south of the “Frozen Tundra of Lambeau Field”, where our beloved Green Bay Packers play. In 1992, I was pleased to accept a position at Wilson Middle School in the Appleton district which had a statewide reputation for excellence and innovation.

During that time I received a Kohl Fellowship for teaching excellence, and continued to coach the 8 th grade boys’ basketball team. Professionally, I was at the top of my career. During that same time, however, my personal life was falling apart.

After successful bariatric weight loss surgery in which Judy lost over 100 pounds, she found a new addiction: alcohol. The day before 9/11 she was picked up for OWI in Fond Du Lac while searching for my son’s freshman football game. The second OWI came two weeks later, when she was driving down an interstate highway in the wrong direction. Her first inpatient treatment was at Hazelton that January.

Following a relapse several months later and while in her second inpatient facility, we separated, eventually divorcing in 2003 because of her repeated relapses into alcoholism. I blamed myself for her alcoholism, and deep down probably hoped the divorce would bring her the physical and emotional happiness she lacked throughout her lifetime.

That fall, sitting alone in a hotel whirlpool, I reflected on my life. At 48 years of age, I finally accepted the idea of coming out if the rest of my life was to be open, happy, and honest.

Our school district had an EAP (employee assistance program), and I found an amazing counselor who helped me cope with Judy’s alcoholism.

“Coming out” to her, in her office, was a whole different situation, and my nerves were in high gear. I said the words, “I’m gay.” Her response: “So?” My next words let out my guilt: “Which caused my wife to be an alcoholic.” She then looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’ve met a lot of women whose husbands are gay, and none of them is an alcoholic.”

My coming out had begun.

By November 2005 I had come out to my kids, close friends, and my then 85 year old mother, who embraced me with her love. Through a local coffeehouse, I met a support and social group for gays and lesbians.

I was ready to come out to Judy, but two days after Thanksgiving, she was found dead at her home, the cause being cirrhosis of the liver.

The years that followed were difficult, be it still working through guilt and eventually acceptance, or being a single father whose teen-age kids had dealt with alcoholism, coming out, divorce, and now the death of a parent over the course of several years.

I had realized the personal costs and consequences of being in the closet, and now wanted to help others in accepting themselves and achieving their full potential.

The real turning point came when I attended the NEA (National Education Association) Representative Assembly in Washington D.C in 2008. There I met other gay and lesbian educators from across the country, and attended a caucus dinner of celebration and recognition of gay educators. Inspired, I came home to Appleton and met with Hank, our WEAC-Fox Valley Unit Director, who in turn drove me to Madison to meet and have my questions and concerns answered by a WEAC (Wisconsin Education Association Council) lawyer.

One week later, with my local union President in attendance, I came out in a meeting with my district superintendent and an assistant superintendent, and was assured that there was not a problem.

I remember asking one question in particular: “What if a conservative parent objects to having me teach their child because I’m gay?” The response: “We have open enrollment in our district, and they could choose to drive their student to a different school.”

My fears were unfounded. I came out and found acceptance from both my administration and fellow staff members.

I became the NEA-GLBT Midwest Caucus Director for four years, and a gay representative on the WEAC (Wisconsin Education Association Council) Human Relations Committee. Even though I never mentioned it openly, it didn’t take long for my students to figure out I was gay.

At one point, several students approached my colleague and inquired if I was gay. She asked if it mattered, they said it didn’t. Other staff members heard similar conversations among students. Large numbers of students participated in forensics and an improvisational comedy group, both extracurricular activities I supervised.

By accepting myself, I reached my full potential both inside and outside the classroom. The guilt of living a lie was gone, the fear of being “found out” removed, and I was both joyous and grateful to have second chance to live an honest, open life and let people know the true me.

Then, thanks to match.com, I met an amazing man who became my life partner.

With the assistance of our city Diversity Coordinator, I developed a 40 minute lesson to be used as part of our 6th grade human growth and development curriculum at Houdini Elementary School, where I taught since 2004. The focus was on what it means to be LGBTQ, famous individuals from all areas of life who are gay or lesbian, an anti-bullying role play, and finally an “It Gets Better” video featuring Google employees.

Twenty-five sets of parents attended the preview night for the unit, and to say that I was nervous, even after 35 years of teaching, was an understatement. My building principal and two teaching colleagues were there to offer support.

Once again, my fears were unfounded. The lesson was accepted by parents, who have used the opportunity to open discussions with their sons and daughters. I have been impressed by the high interest level of students , and how well they role play responses to a bullying scenario within the lesson.. I was observed teaching the lesson by my building principal, our guidance counselor, and our district curriculum coordinator, each one praising and complimenting both the content and the presentation. Even with that success challenges remain, such as getting our school district to implement the lesson in all 6th grade classrooms before students head off to Middle School.

I retired from the school district in June 2014. Even in retirement, my passion that every LGBTQ student accepts and celebrates who they will continue. I recognize there are many pathways on which this passion may take me in the future.

For Danny, I can only hope the teacher I have become helped him become a man whose life reaches its full potential.

Dave and Garth

Dave and Garth