Editor’s note: The following commentary is an excerpt from remarks presented before the Presidential Religious Liberty Commission on Sept. 29, 2025, with minor edits made only for readability.
For over 30 years, I’ve had the privilege of serving as a high school teacher — for the last 21, in Virginia’s Loudoun County Public Schools, teaching government.
Being a teacher is one of the greatest blessings of my life. Every day I work for every student to know they are loved unconditionally. No matter what they are going through, what their grades are, or what their status is with their peers, at least one person loves them.
So every day when my students come and go, I tell them:
“Mrs. Gill loves you.”
I have a banner over my classroom door that reads, “You Are Loved.” And on every test, I include one bonus question: “Mrs. Gill loves me: True or false?” They have to put “true” to get it right.
Over the years, I’ve built wonderful relationships with my students — learning their strengths, listening to their dreams, and walking with them in both struggles and victories.
My goal has always been to equip them not just with facts, but with truth — not just for a test, but for life. Because if we can root the next generation in truth, we can help them live full and flourishing lives.
But in the summer of 2021, I encountered a cultural battleground I didn’t expect, nor did I feel equipped to take on.
Loudoun County Public Schools adopted a policy that forced teachers to deny the most foundational truths of what it means to be created male and female. The policy said teachers must treat boys as girls and girls as boys.
Loudoun County Public Schools gave teachers a choice: Deny truth, or risk everything — our jobs, our pensions, our students whom we loved.
For a moment, I was afraid. But when I prayed, I knew I could not say to God one day, “Lord, I stayed silent because my pension was more important than your truth.” I knew the only right choice was to stand in love and defend truth for my students.
So, with the help of Alliance Defending Freedom, I filed a lawsuit against the Loudoun County School Board for its unlawful policy. The journey was hard, but God met me time and again with the strength to persevere.
One story I’ll never forget: The year I filed the lawsuit, I got an e-mail from a young lady who was going to be in my class. She said that she didn’t like seeing me on TV. She didn’t like the things I stood for. She said that I was ignorant — that our culture was toxic, and I was a part of that toxicity.
I knew she needed to be loved. So, I placed her seat right in front of my desk, and I made a deliberate point to build a relationship with her. What started off as uncomfortable and awkward ended in a lovely relationship. As school wrapped up in May that year, she left me a note saying, “Mrs. Gill, you are a really great teacher, and I am so glad I was in your class.” She would go on to elect to take another class with me and ask me to write her letter of recommendation for college.
Thankfully, this past July, after a long legal journey, my lawsuit resulted in a victory for all teachers to freely speak the truth in love when Loudoun County Public Schools finally agreed to no longer require teachers to use pronouns inconsistent with a student’s sex.
It reminded me of what Pastor Billy Graham once said: “Courage is contagious. When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are stiffened.”
To my fellow public-school teachers around the nation who find themselves discouraged: Don’t ever doubt your calling to equip the next generation in truth.
I was reminded of this deeply a few years ago at a time where I felt heavy-hearted and discouraged. As I was cleaning up my new classroom at the start of school, I discovered a hardbound book tucked in a corner. I picked it up and dusted it off to see the title: “Holy Bible.” And I thought, “What are you doing here?” I opened it, and on the first page, in elegant penmanship, were the words: “Presented by the Class of 1955.”
My first reaction was cynical: “Look how far we’ve fallen. Something like this would never happen today.” But in that moment, the Lord got my heart and said, “Monica, I didn’t give you this gift for you to judge this place. I gave you this gift so that you would know: I have not abandoned this place. I’ve placed you here to be My salt and My light, and I’m calling you to stand — and to stay.”
Friends, this is each of our callings: to be salt and light! God has not abandoned our schools, and He has not abandoned this generation, so neither can we.
We cannot let our children fall victim to lies, especially the lie that says they’re born in the wrong body or that their gender is fluid. We must show our students love, truth, and the path toward true joy. And we must hold accountable our public-school systems when they fail.
We are at what I pray, in Charlie Kirk’s honor, will be a turning point, because for us to win back our country, we must take a stand for truth without fear of the consequences.
In closing, I want to speak directly to any young people seeing my words today: You are loved. And you have a choice in how you will love one another — and how you will love this country.
And you have a choice to be courageous — to stand for what is right, true, and noble, even knowing that it may cost you greatly. My prayer is that you will remember that courage is contagious, and that you’ll look beyond your differences to what unites you:
You are each beautifully made in the image of God.
Monica Gill is a government teacher at Loudoun County High School in Virginia.
