Meetings and Preparations

Today was mostly spent assisting others in presenting courses and in finding out information to help my group of managers present events in the near future. There’s probably a bad pun I could forge out of those but I’m very tired. It has been rewarding all the same.

The course was part of a series of bite-size training content the LGBTQ+ Staff Network is putting on at lunchtimes – and today was about Accessibility in LGBT+ Spaces. We were joined, and it was led by, a colleague from our Disability Network and was both well attended and interactive. My role was to hit buttons and post links, and to keep an eye out for people raising their hands to ask questions or volunteer information. It was the first time I’ve done that but I’ve seen enough people doing so in other courses that it didn’t take long to get into the swing of things. So, that’s a new skill set learned today.

The preparations were basically sorting out funding options for events around the coronation at my libraries. More on that as we get things firmed up…

Allyship Work

I’ve been very active over the last year or so at work in raising and socialising the concept of Allyship in our EDI (Equalities, Diversity and Inclusion) groups and projects. This is the process where people who have relative privilege engage in the ongoing unlearning and questioning and support of people with disadvantages – its not an identity but an ongoing journey to take part in the work needed to raise equity for everyone. I’m lucky enough to be working with staff networks and a professional team in our corporate strategy areas to pull together guidance and training that I hope can be made available at all levels in out organisation. Today saw another step forward.

I’d done a draft last year of materials and then handed them over to the wider networks to start the conversation about what Allyship means to different people – whether that’s LGBTQ+, Women, Disability Forums, Carer support, Ethnic Minorities, Religious groups, indeed anyone from a protected or overlooked community or group. This morning we gathered to start to feed back on and develop the first draft of a training session aimed at raising awareness and starting conversations. It has been a huge source of pride to see the bones of the material I assembled being used as an inspiration and starting point for something that I hope will demystify and empower people who are not themselves in a minority group but who want to show, embody, and lead in support and understanding their colleagues and customers.

It’s been an exhausting morning, but I hope it leads to some really important things. I’m also glad to be involved in moving it all forward.

All this has come from my experiences since the first lockdown in supporting my friends, partners, and extended family both in home life and professional contexts. It comes from talking to customers and people casually met. It comes from the number of times I’ve heard “Oh I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing”, and it comes from seeing and hearing the distress of the trans, disabled, and otherwise extraordinary people in my life. It’s one thing standing up for myself – that’s relatively easy as I can choose to pass as a white heteronormative man – but showing up and staying put for others is more important. I don’t always get it right, but I learn, I correct, and hopefully take away the fear for others.

This Allyship project means a lot to me – and hopefully I’ll be able to carry on reporting great things about it as it comes to fruition.

Queer Joy

I wrote the following for a work blog but it didn’t get used as originally intended. Instead I ended up using it as the basis for a piece I did to open the LGBT History Month event at the Surrey History Centre.

I’m hoping to get hold of the video footage at some point, or even just an audio recording, but there may be some hoops to jump through for that. In the meantime, here’s the original blog. It doesn’t include the joke suggested by boy s about a picture of Queer Joy and how wonderful they are.

As someone with deep clinical depression, it feels a little odd to talk about queer joy. Leaving aside my imposter syndrome, however, that is the point of doing it. Finding and appreciating good things is an important skill. Queer joy is not in and of itself a matter of mental health though. 

 
Queer joy is a positive moment of celebration. It is even more remarkable because they are in an LGBTQ+ context. I experience it when I eat cake at a same-sex wedding. I experience it when I hear that we have hired an amazing new transgender colleague and that they are thriving. I experience it when I contemplate the anniversaries of myself, partners, or friends. At its heart, queer joy is a name for our reaction when we encounter signs of progress. 

Queer joy is the experience of being in a diverse and empowered community. I can be myself, or I witness others be themselves without threat of violence or rejection. It comes when people can wear what feels right to them. It comes from encountering – or being – someone LGBTQ+ in a leadership role. It is the joy of seeing people blossom. It is the experience of people who find their voices. It is seeing people work out who they are outside rigid gender roles and norms of behaviour. 

The importance of queer joy is that it helps sustain me. Media and personally experienced backlash and hate across our community is exhausting. We get our celebrations in Pride and LGBTQ+ History Months, but queer joy appears in the small moments. It is often unexpected, like sunshine rays through breaks in an overcast sky. In those moments, queer joy is often bittersweet. For all the joy of the moment, we still remember the fight. We remember not everyone is as lucky as we are in that moment. 

There is a resilience that comes with queer joy. The joy peaks when someone in the LGBTQ+ community wins an award. The joy shines out when I hear a song celebrating same-sex love. When my found or chosen family supports me, it is an example of how we rise despite setbacks and step forward and up. It might only be a small step, but it is still a step forward. 

Queer joy is for everyone. If you want to see equality, diversity, and inclusion in our society, then you can experience it too. The empathy within us manifests as joy at people’s success. We may call it queer joy, but you are all welcome to experience and thrive in it. 

Late Night Rambling

It’s half past one in the morning and I can’t sleep, so I’m afraid you have to put up with some ramblings and idle musings for a bit. The good news at least is that I’m not coughing all the time now.

I’ve had covid before, and this time round was about the same. I think there was more coughing and actual headcold-style wooziness. The aches this time have been mostly in my arm bones, and noticeably sharp pains in my lower arms and wrists, which was odd. Somewhat ironically, given I can’t sleep at the moment, I’ve also got heavy fatigue.

So that’s all something I’m looking forward to leaving behind.

Mind you, I was already exhausted all the time before I had a positive covid test, so it’s a bit hard to tell if there’s any connection or overlap. Frankly, if it wasn’t for the fact that nearly everyone in my life is similarly ill or falling apart, I might feel that I was being particularly targeted – because that’d the type of stupid egocentrism that I enjoy teasing and joking about.

By that I mean that my facility to self-sabotage often fluctuates between perfectionism (in the sense of setting impossible targets and failure therefore confirming my own expectations), and self denigration that doesn’t always know when to stop .

Nothing particularly unusual there, many of us do it. That said, I don’t ever really recall fitting in many places. There’s always been a sense of being a bit ‘other’ and standing on the outside, looking in and not quite getting how I should be reacting.

Growing up in the shadow of Section 28 which banned teaching of anything LGBT+ also didn’t help. Looking back I can remember a number of teachers who struggled sometimes to rephrase or frame statements in certain careful ways. I had another teacher who hindsight suggests may have been trans but ill never know, or indeed enquire because it’s none of my business.

What it did all do though, and I see it happening again in the language used against trans people in particular, was to set a code of what was ‘normal’ and vigorously mocked anyone who did not conform to it.

It didn’t matter if you were lgbt or not, the very fear of being mocked or attacked if you stepped outside the poorly defined parameters had a chilling effect on everyone. Hate language is a matter of control.

If you’ve ever hesitated to do something or express something for fear of being seen as gay, or trans, or mentally ill – or anything regardless of whether you are or not – then you’ve been controlled by hate speech.

It’s why the slogan that trans rights are human rights is so important. Its the same arguments and language that’s been used by often far right groups time and time again. It leads to people being beaten for reading poetry, or singing their favourite song while exercising.

The ban on conversations and information while I was growing up kept me closeted without even knowing that was a thing. Any raising of the subject was either derogatory, or couched in terms of eliciting fear.

The news was full of people cheering the death of gay people as HIV appeared. I was told that gays didn’t do love or relationships, and that I would die alone and unloved. I could expect to be beaten up, or maybe if I was lucky and conformed enough I might be adopted as a token eccentric but would still have people whispering and removing children from the area “just in case”

I didn’t have the language to explore who I was becoming, or question things. I liked both boys and girls and was comfortably not a sports enthusiast – which in a boarding school which focused much of its identity around rugby and cricket competitions with other boarding schools, was a bit of a red flag.

Instead of worrying therefore about young people expressing themselves in a myriad of gender concepts and sexualities, I praise educators for giving people the vocabulary and concepts to see what fits them as they grow up and evolve along their life journeys.

I don’t subscribe to the “in my day we didn’t have this so why isn’t that good enough for them?” mantra. Isn’t the entire point of growing up to make sure that the people who come after us don’t have the struggles and pain we had if we can help it?

I’m still learning and evolving. I only sound like I know what’s going on or how it all works. As the strapline to this blog says, I’m making it up as I go along. I still feel like an outsider and rarely feel that I entirely fit. I compensate by being quirky and bold so that people give me mental headspace to squirm and reposition.

I am, as several people have told me, a Fool, and a Catalyst. I have a tshirt that encapsulates those concepts in a rather pithy statement: “My sole purpose in life is to serve as a warning to others.”

I would hope that this means that you don’t waste as much time as I did fighting being the real me and being what I thought people wanted me to be. Do yourself a favour and be your own special weirdo – because there’s plenty of people who are only too happy to try and stop you. You can do it. I believe in you.

An Achievement

It’s finally official: I have just been voted to be co-chair of my work LGBTQ+ Staff Network which is a great honour, and one I aim to lift and use to help promote and celebrate EDI improvements. There’s a lot to do, but it dovetails with other similar roles and groups I’m working with so I’m expecting this all to be very fulfilling.

It’s not something I ever thought I’d do, or be considered for but I guess all my standing up to be counted and advocating for people in recent years has set my feet wandering this direction.

Interesting times. I hope I can live up to it.

What Does Pride Mean To Me?

I got asked to contribute to a thread on the work forum about what significance Pride has for me – either as an event or a way of living and working. It didn’t take me long to put together the following, so I thought I’d share it here too:

Pride for me – is having the support and acceptance to be my true self, not the facade I constructed for so many years to fit in with family and societal expectations. Its only since coming out and living life authentically that I realise just how exhausting carrying that mask at all times was. Pride is representing each other – supporting those who are actively suppressed, or who may not be free to speak up, or who may be overwhelmed – raising common voices so that no one has to feel that they are alone. Pride is acknowledging our history that is often unseen, and working together to move forward so that no one is left behind. Pride is curiosity, recognising that we evolve and grow over time. Pride is a challenge – facing those who would divide us or oppose us and speaking our truths. Pride is found family, the people we come to know and cherish along the way especially in the face of adversity.

And Pride is fun. Its a celebration of positivity despite everything thrown at us (sometimes literally). It is holding our heads high and being as loud or as quiet as we are comfortable with because sometimes just the act of being visible is rebellion and inspiration enough for people we’ll never know.

Half Term, oh and that Pride thing too

Being utterly awful people we all forgot it was half term this week until the cub reminded us. Fortunately Lady M and I had already booked some time off to take advantage of the bank holidays so we’ve taken him in while boy s continues to work.

Being myself I immediately booked tickets for myself and the cub to visit boy s at his work place and caused all kinds of merry havoc while we were there. The rest of the week has seen us take the cub to Go Ape, and a variety of other activities away from his usual computer screen.

We’re having a quiet day today – I can hear YouTube videos from the other room, I’ve gone shopping for groceries, and I may even have a nap to make up for a broken night for a while.

Meanwhile, its June. Happy Pride Month alongside all the other things taking place. Its as important as ever, because its impossible to understate how much of a difference it makes for people to be able to live as themselves.

I’ve been asked to put my name forward at work for a position with the LGBTQ+ Staff Network which will be hard work alongside the day job but well worth it if I can help facilitate positive changes. The AGM isn’t for a few weeks so I’ll talk more about that when the dust settles.

And yes, the autism referral stuff continues in the background. I’m not expecting to hear anything on that front for quite some time as it doesn’t seem to be something that BUPA covers and the NHS is overwhelmed. Patience, and all that.

Another Anniversary?

Wednesday was the fourth anniversary of collaring boy s – in kink terms a form of commitment not unlike marriage – it was just a shame that both of us were too unwell to celebrate much of anything. I was staying over anyway so it was largely a day of napping in between doing the school run and doing some more work on the Amazon store.

We’ve decided instead to try and have a date night in the next week or so once payday has arrived and we’re in better health.

What we do all have to anticipate however is that we’ve got tickets for the Thorpe Park preview day on Saturday thanks to his working there. We’ve not been on any rollercoaster since before the first lockdown. Lady M has had her eye surgery since then too, so this will be the first time on them without glasses or contact lenses.

So, highs and lows and literal rollercoasters to come. Can’t wait.

More Visibility Musings

I was talking with a colleague today to – as they put it – be a common sense and reality check. The situation they wanted to check in about was one that any one of my various hats was applicable to but as part of the context for their decision making process they made a confidential disclosure about their personal life that they didn’t want to share with their staff.

As they said, it’s their private life, and even if they were minded to disclose it, this wasn’t a context in which they would want to disclose the information.

Being trusted with this disclosure was humbling. It immediately also reminded me of why I both respect these personal boundaries and am also glad that I live the way I do. Admittedly, it has meant that I’m now a very visible EDI advocate, but that has in its own way opened more doors than it has inhibited.

I am a very visible and talkative person in my workplace, and the confidence to be that person has in part coming from recognising, acknowledging, and embracing the evolution of who I am. It’s taken a huge weight off my shoulders. It also allows me to be visible on behalf of others who do not feel safe or comfortable to do the same.

There’s a responsibility there that I feel keenly.

Reminiscence

We got lost a couple of times over the last few days in talking about the bad old days of Section 28 and the wasteland of the AIDS crisis and the effect that had on us as queer youngsters.

We had little to no representation that wasn’t couched in terms of scandal, death, and abandonment, and so the plethora of support and acceptance that so many people now receive can feel bewildering.

I think in part it’s been prompted by taking part in the event with the Surrey History Centre. It’s made me reevaluate elements of my earlier life and got us all comparing experiences. And that’s where the mix of jealousy and annoyance comes in when younger people don’t recognise their relative privilege compared to the landscape we came through.

We’re proud of how far things have come, but we’re also very aware of how fragile that progress is. Vitriol and attacks on people and rights bubble just under the surface still in far too many places.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this, other than I suppose it highlights the need for LGBT+ History Month so we can celebrate how far we’ve come but remember just how far behind we have been