Blog
During Pride Season, we are celebrating the ways we are #ProuderTogether.
Deenah from Hidayah talks about how the organisation provides visibility, information and community support to queer Muslims.
'Beautifully led by and for LGBTQ+ Muslims, with news, stories, links to other parts of the queer community such as film festivals and spoken word events, I happily recommend Hidayah to anyone who seeks an intersectional view of sexual orientation/gender identity and faith. In the few years of my knowledge of their work and their amazing leaders, it is wonderful to see them grow in support, grow in numbers and grow in opportunity, especially since becoming a charity." Steven (teacher in Mearns Castle High School, Scotland).
I volunteer for Hidayah, an organisation dedicated to queer Muslims. Its existence and the extent to which it champions LGBTQ Muslims feels truly revolutionary, because it challenges the common misperception that Islam is inherently oppressive. This idea can be incredibly harmful to LGBTQ Muslims like myself because it insinuates being queer and being Muslim as mutually exclusive, not two parts of an identity that can coexist harmoniously. With the rampant Islamophobia and racism that Muslims can face in the West, it is easy for queer Muslims to feel alone, not heard or seen the way we want to be by the world.
Hidayah's existence and the extent to which it champions LGBTQ Muslims feels truly revolutionary.
Hidayah means “guidance” in Arabic. To start with, that means telling wider society, “Hey, we exist too!” The charity also aims to set the record straight (no pun intended) - with resources on how Islam is compatible with being LGBTQ, by empowering queer Muslims and allies in pushing the world in a more progressive, accepting direction.
Hidayah attained charity status in 2020, but it’s been providing visibility, information, and community support to queer Muslims for years. Whether through film festivals, other radio shows (including the BBC), a sold-out conference, podcasts or documentaries, Hidayah continues to amplify the voices that are so often silenced by society.
I was asked to get involved with Hidayah last year after our Chair, Shelina, read my articles on being a queer Muslim and reached out. Since then, I've spoken at several panels, including Lancashire LGBT and PrideCymru, and on Shoutout Radio. I’ve hosted the screening of a docufilm, Gayrabia.
As a closeted lesbian, I initially struggled to speak up about queer matters. We’re not able to shout the loudest and we’re often misunderstood by others in the queer community. There’s an understandable hesitancy among queer people towards religion, given that orthodox religious institutions - not just Islam - tend to exclude queer people of faith. My lack of visibility is part of the reason I initially fell through the gaps.
But this is a conundrum my colleagues at Hidayah are familiar with. It's why I can host events with my camera off and have the risk of being outed taken seriously. My invisibility has never stood in the way of providing me and other queer Muslims with the community support that we clearly need.
The idea of having a found family is gloriously queer, but it’s also a source of solace and comfort for queer Muslims.
The idea of having a found family is gloriously queer, but it’s also a source of solace and comfort for queer Muslims who have been rejected by their families. My found family gives me a unique sense of solidarity that you’d be hard-pressed to replicate elsewhere. They cheer me on in my endeavours as a journalist, much of which is centred around queer matters. They share my work and give me the validation that I can’t get from family members, none of whom I am out to.
I feel like I finally found my tribe. There is such a deep sense of belonging, to be among queers and feel like I fit in, rather than being the odd one out, the only hijabi drinking orange juice in the room, or the sole brown face in a sea of white. It’s why I want to celebrate the minorities within queer spaces - from Black trans women (including those who were part of the Stonewall riots!) to nonbinary disabled people and more broadly, queer people of colour. The majority of queer Muslims are also POC, and this means encountering multiple barriers and exclusion is infuriatingly common.
Hidayah has enabled me to realise my full potential as a vocal activist, fighting for intersectionality, acceptance and inclusion.
Joining Hidayah has helped me feel true pride in every part of my identity, while also giving me a sincere sense of purpose when I needed it most. Hidayah has enabled me to realise my full potential as a vocal activist, fighting for intersectionality, acceptance and inclusion in queer spaces - not just as a moral imperative but a spiritual one. At its heart, Islam is about supporting the marginalised and vulnerable in society, and that is exactly what I plan on continuing to do.
Follow Deenah on Twitter: @DeenahAlAqsa
Hidayah’s website. Hidayah's socials: Facebook, Twitter and Instagram
What does it mean to be non-binary? For me, it means freedom and joy.
To be non-binary is to exist outside of society’s confines and expectations. It’s to look at the world around me and to challenge its restrictive rules. To know that my existence is expansive and cannot be contained. Angela Davis said: ‘You have to act as if it were possible to radically transform the world. And you have to do it all the time.' Being non-binary allows me to act as if it were possible to exist in a world not broken into two binary genders. It allows me to imagine a world where my gender is not weaponised against me, but celebrated as an aspect of my multi-faceted being – and it allows me to do this all the time.
Being non-binary opens a world of possibilities.
Being non-binary opens a world of possibilities – both for the ways in which we express ourselves and the ways in which we interact with those around us. A common misconception is that all non-binary identities sit somewhere in the middle of male and female, and that if you’re non-binary you’ll fit neatly into a box labelled ‘androgynous’. But this really isn’t the case – and one of the most liberating things about being non-binary is that there are no set rules around how you express or experience your gender. Your gender might occupy many different spaces in a large colourful circle around the linear binary existence, it might shift and change daily, or it might feel non-existent.
Society consistently erases the non-binary existence.
But while being non-binary allows me to play with gender, laugh at my own physical entity, and occupy as much space as feels most comfortable, I’m also forced to confront the fact that others will perceive me as gendered whether I like it or not, and that there are very real barriers that stop me from having my identity recognised in society.
Currently in the UK, non-binary people don’t have legal recognition. This means having to choose ‘male’ or ‘female’ on official documents like passports, driving licences, marriage certificates, and even, for those of us who medically transition, on our Gender Recognition Certificates. Add to this the daily decisions we’re forced to make around places like bathrooms and changing rooms, and the fact that we’re prescribed binary gendered labels by strangers who look at our bodies, clothes, hair – or hear our voices – and decide whether to address us as ‘sir or ‘madam’. Society consistently erases the non-binary existence and tells us that we’re merely an inconvenience.
So what’s the solution? Unsurprisingly, there’s no simple answer.
Recently, a petition to make non-binary a legally recognised gender identity in the UK received over 138,000 signatures. Some have raised concerns about how this might impact our safety – for example if individuals with non-binary gender markers on their passports wanted to travel to countries with anti-LGBTQ+ laws. There are also questions around whether asking to be included within a system that is inherently oppressive legitimises it.
At the same time, it’s clear that something fundamental needs to change if non-binary people’s identities are to be validated in our society. Alongside calls for legal recognition, others have suggested that a better route may be to remove gender markers on documents altogether. They argue that this would put everyone on an equal footing, rather than simply turning a restrictive two-box system into slightly less restrictive three-box system.
I still dream of a world where gender is not a chore, but a celebration.
A recent, heartening ruling found that non-binary people could be protected by the Equality Act. These logistical wins are significant – with them comes a certain level of acceptance that makes it easier for non-binary people to navigate life on a day-to-day basis. But I still dream of a world where gender is not a chore, but a celebration; where the status quo is not one where we must fight daily simply to be included, but one where the diversity of the human existence is woven into the fabric of society. We must continue working to dismantle the binary categories that restrict all of us, and throw the boxes in the recycling bin where they belong.
Want to know how to be a better ally to non-binary people? We've written our top tips in this article.
What does non-binary refer to?
Non-binary is an umbrella term for people whose gender identity doesn’t sit comfortably with ‘man’ or ‘woman’. Non-binary identities are varied and can include people who identify with some aspects of binary identities, while others reject them entirely.
Non-binary people can feel that their gender identity and gender experience involves being both a man and a woman, or that it is fluid, in between, or completely outside of that binary.
Is non-binary the same as trans?
No. While the term trans generally encompasses people whose gender is not the same as, or does not sit comfortably with, the sex they were assigned at birth, some non-binary people don’t see themselves as trans. It’s always important to respect the language someone uses to define themselves.
Trans people may describe themselves using one or more of a wide variety of terms, including (but not limited to) transgender, transsexual, gender-queer (GQ), gender-fluid, non-binary, gender-variant, crossdresser, genderless, agender, nongender, third gender, bi-gender, trans man, trans woman, trans masculine, trans feminine and neutrois.
While non-binary and trans are not the same, there are some shared experiences and similar elements, one of which is the importance of allyship. Whether someone is non-binary, trans, or both, being a good ally means listening, using the correct language, and supporting people in how they choose to express themselves and identify.
Gender identity vs gender expression
In order to understand non-binary gender identities better, it’s vital to understand the difference between gender identity and gender expression.
Gender identity refers to a person’s clear sense of their own gender. This is not something which is governed by a person’s physical attributes. Gender expression is how you express yourself and just like everyone else, non-binary people have all sorts of ways to express themselves and their identity. They can present as masculine, feminine or in another way and this can change over time, but none of these expressions make their identity any less valid or worthy of respect.
What can I do to step up as an ally to trans and non-binary people?
There are many ways to be inclusive of everyone, regardless of their gender identity. Our language and the way we speak is often embedded with hidden gendered cues.
Once we start to notice them, we can move towards using language that’s inclusive for all. Here are 10 tips you can start using right away!
- Introduce yourself with your name and pronouns. Stating your pronouns reminds people that it might not always be immediately obvious what pronouns someone uses
- Put your pronouns in your email signature or social media profile
- Instead of addressing groups of people with binary language such as ‘ladies and gentlemen’, try more inclusive alternatives such as ‘folks’, ‘pals’ or ‘everyone’
- Use words that define the relationship instead of the relationship and gender. For example, use ‘parents’, ‘partner’, ‘children’ or ‘siblings’
- Not everyone is comfortable with gendered titles such as ‘Ms’ or ‘Mr’. Titles are not always necessary, but if they must be used it’s good to provide alternative ones such as ‘Mx’ (pronounced mix or mux)
- Use the singular ‘their’ instead of ‘his/her’ in letters and other forms of writing, i.e. ‘when a colleague finishes their work’ as opposed to ‘when a colleague finishes his/her work’
- Not everyone necessarily uses ‘he’ or ‘she’ pronouns, and it’s important to be respectful of people who use different pronouns. The most common gender-neutral pronoun is the singular ‘they’ (they/them/theirs). Using people’s correct pronouns shows that you respect them and who they are
- Using the pronoun ‘they’ is very useful when someone’s gender or identity is unknown. You will often already be using it without realising, i.e. ‘somebody left their hat, I wonder if they will come back to get it’
- Make sure that your workplace, school and college policies and documents use inclusive language, i.e. using ‘they’ instead of ‘he/she’ and avoiding sentences that imply two genders. Where specifically talking about gender identity, make sure it is inclusive of non-binary gender identities and not just trans men and trans women
- When highlighting LGBTQ+ people in your events or as role models, make sure you include some non-binary role models too
It may take a bit of getting used to, but it causes you no harm, and it will make that person feel acknowledged and valid.
Most of this article is an excerpt of one of our school resources “Celebrating difference and building belonging”, written in collaboration with Owl Fisher, a non-binary activist and film-maker.
How can we create a better world for LGBTQ+ people?
A newly released collection of stories and essays, We Can Do Better Than This: 35 Voices on the Future of LGBTQ+ Rights, tackles the question by giving voice to LGBTQ+ activists and creatives from across the globe – including countries where prejudice and stigma around LGBT people are still very much prevalent.
But this is a book of solutions, not problems. Each of the 35 voices featured within challenge our view of the world, and collectively they explore the ways in which we can create a world where all LGBTQ+ people can be free to be themselves – one where they can not only survive, but also thrive. Compiled and edited by journalist Amelia Abraham, this book takes us on a journey through six overarching themes – safety; visibility; dating, love and family; health and social care; beyond the binary; and community and organising – to make us think more deeply about the future of LGBTQ+ rights and to inspire positive change within our communities. Following on from Amelia’s first book, Queer Intentions: A (Personal) Journey Through LGBTQ+ Culture, the book also uplifts the diverse voices of our community to educate and motivate.
Tom/Crystal Rasmussen, author of Diary of a Drag Queen, shares their experiences with wearing make-up in public places as a queer person; while Phyll Opoku-Gyimah (Lady Phyll), co-founder of UK Black Pride, writes about how her ancestors’ resilience inspires her activism. Activist Mazharul Islam explores LGBTQ+ rights in Bangladesh; and writer Travis Alabanza imagines the joys – but also the peace – of a world free from gender policing. Through using vulnerability, reflection. Discussion. Reflection, and good humour, all 35 contributors imagine a better future for the LGBTQ+ community and provide guidance on how best we can get there, together.
We spoke with Amelia Abraham about her experiences of compiling her new book.
1. Many people can look at the rainbow-coloured logos of their favourite brands or see photos from corporate Prides across the world and think we don’t need Pride any longer. How do you challenge this narrative through your book?
Corporate acceptance can be very divisive. Some people view it as positive visibility, others think that it dissolves the political messages of Pride; some corporate Pride activities raise huge amounts of money for LGBTQ+ causes, which is great, others equate to what we might call pinkwashing. I explore this tension in my first book, Queer Intentions: A (Personal) Journey Through LGBTQ+ Culture – there’s a whole chapter where I travel to Pride events across Europe to look at the commercialisation of Pride. At Prides like Berlin and Amsterdam, there is a lot of corporate presence in the form of logos and branded campaigns, but in Serbia, there is no corporate sponsorship because businesses don’t want to be affiliated with the LGBTQ+ community within a wider anti-LGBTQ+ climate.
We haven’t come as far as we might think.
In this sense, we can see that corporate Pride does demonstrate relative acceptance, however this still doesn’t actually mean our most urgent needs are being met. We Can Do Better Than This is a collection of stories all about what still needs to change to make life better for LGBTQ+ people – from better trans media representation and healthcare, to ending HIV stigma, to third gender options on passports – and it shows there is so much more to do. I think the book demonstrates that we haven’t come as far as we might think in terms of ‘LGBTQ+ equality’ and that we therefore need Pride more than ever, as a moment for visibility, protest and general awareness raising.
2. Why was it important for you to include voices from the global LGBTQ+ community?
In places like Bangladesh and Nigeria, where some of the contributors come from, homosexuality is still criminalised. As Mazharul Islam writes, the criminalisation of homosexuality sends out a societal message that queer people should be punished for being who they are. This increases the threat of violence. Then, when that violence occurs, you cannot go to the authorities in case you are arrested.
It’s really important to hear from queer people in other parts of the world.
The lack of safety occurs as a cycle and one that must be broken – not just through decriminalisation, but through education, visibility, organising. So I think it’s really important to hear from queer people in other parts of the world in order to learn more about their experiences and remind ourselves that we are part of a bigger, global, LGBTQ+ family, as well as to then facilitate the sharing of information, support and finances – a kind of global solidarity.
3. You say in your introduction that you chose the contributors because they are all ‘fabulous’, and link this thinking to madison moore’s book. Could you expand on what this means to you?
madison moore wrote an amazing book called Fabulous: Rise of the Beautiful Eccentric all about how queer people and particularly the most marginalised queer people – like gender nonconforming people and queer people of colour – harness style and ingenuity as a mode of political resistance. Think ballroom culture, for example. It’s all about thriving and being creative in a world that tells you that you shouldn’t exist – fabulousness as protest, a way of taking up space and refusing to be erased.
I think this applies to all the contributors, and actually most queer people I know!
4. What do you think are the links between 'everyday, interpersonal gestures and change on a much broader scale', as you write in your introduction?
I think to improve life for LGBTQ+ people we need incremental or individual change coupled with top-level change. So for instance, when it comes to improving the inclusion of the non-binary community, we need people to understand and use they/them pronouns on an interpersonal level and a gender-neutral option to be made available on passports, say. Both changes, to me, indicate base level respect and recognition.
I think everyday and broader changes also hopefully beget one another – if non-binary people were acknowledged by the government, then more people might accept that gender-neutral pronouns are here to stay. Vice versa, if more people made the effort to be inclusive with language and behaviour – in the workplace, schools etc – it might one hopefully one day lead to a society in which institutions do not constantly operate on the presumption of binary gender.
I hope We Can Do Better Than This is full of dozens of practical suggestions – bigger, and smaller – for changes we can make.
5. This year, our Pride campaign is all about our community being Prouder Together. What do you think is the importance of community, solidarity, and teamwork in achieving equality and liberation for the LGBTQ+ community worldwide? How does your book demonstrate this?
I think by assembling so many LGBTQ+ voices side by side, it draws new connections between our experiences. I also hope that the bigger voices – Olly Alexander and Lady Phyll etc – will draw people in to the unexpected stories from lesser known activists.
We Can Do Better Than This is also full of stories about how community and solidarity have created the blueprint for progress. From homeless queers coming together at Stonewall in 1969, to networks of queer people protecting one another from online catfishing in Nigeria today. Kate Bornstein’s essay, ‘When It Comes to Sex and Gender, You’re Right’ even makes an amazing case for how we can prevent divisions within queer communities going forwards – particularly divisions between L, G, B and T.
6. What’re three key messages or three actions do you think everyone can take away from this book?
We still have a lot of work to do to make life better for queer people. There are always people who need our help. There are many things we can actively do to help them.
Some of those things are: Having conversations to shift attitudes (I hope the book equips readers the arguments to do that). Supporting queer people beyond the West, financially and in other ways like sharing their stories or uplifting their voices. And finally, educating ourselves around the needs of disabled, intersex and asexual people, in order to be better allies.
Stonewall’s Director of Programmes, Liz Ward, celebrates the out and proud LGBTQ+ athletes from this year’s Olympics and Paralympics, but asks: “Is this enough?”.
The theme for the Tokyo Olympics and Paralympics was ‘United by Emotion’. After a year in which we all faced incredible challenges, the theme felt fitting. At its best, sport has the incredible power to unite us, no matter our religion, background, sexuality, or gender identity.
And earlier this year, we saw a record number of lesbian, gay, bi, trans, and queer (LGBTQ+) athletes compete. From New Zealand trailblazer Laurel Hubbard to Brazil's Edênia Garcia, at least 162 openly LGBTQ+ athletes played at this year’s games. The opening ceremony brought together these athletes under the Olympic oath, with a focus ‘solidarity, inclusion, non-discrimination and equality’. This rooted the games in a sentiment that is so needed right now.
At Stonewall, we filled our social media channels the hashtags #OlympicsForAll and #ParalympicsForAll in celebration of this oath. But while the Olympics organisers were of course right in saying that there is strength in diversity, we failed to see this sentiment play out in the policies and practices surrounding the games.
This year, World Athletics banned Namibian sprinters Christine Mboma and Beatrice Masilingi from competing at the Olympics for having natural testosterone levels that ‘surpassed’ regulatory requirements. While we would rightfully praise Michael Phelps for having a unique physique that allows him to be one of the fastest swimmers in the world, Black athletes that are trans, intersex, and LGBTQ+ are not afforded the same privileges or praise for being exceptional.
How can we thrive on the field when our safety is in jeopardy as soon as we leave the stadium?
As we see global increases of hate crime towards LGBTQ+ people, it was also disappointing that the Japanese Government failed to pass a national non-discrimination law to protect LGBTQ+ people before the Olympics and Paralympics. It’s amazing to see more of our community compete, but how can we thrive on the field when our safety is in jeopardy as soon as we leave the stadium?
We know that over 80% of LGBTQ+ people who take part in sport have witnessed homophobia, biphobia and transphobia in the past 12 months, and over 40% of LGBTQ+ people think public sporting events aren’t a welcoming place for them. It’s no wonder that many LGBTQ+ people leave the sports they love, and that some feel unable even to spectate. But as Olympic gold medallist and US Women’s National Team Football player Megan Rapinoe rightly said during 2019’s women’s world cup: “You can’t win without gay players.”
It’s vital for LGBTQ+ people at every level of sport to feel included.
At Stonewall, we want all LGBTQ+ people to thrive in sport. It’s vital for LGBTQ+ people at every level of sport to feel included – whether they’re a gold medallist or they spend their weeks looking forward to five-a-side in the local park. The more diverse our sports fields, pitches and pools, the better. After all, sport should be everyone’s game – not just Olympians’.
So, how can you help? Research shows that almost half of fans who saw our Rainbow Laces campaign wouldn’t speak up for LGBTQ+ people at live sport fixtures if they saw discrimination. Stepping up an ally to the most marginalised people in sport is a vital part to play in improving the sporting world for everyone. Read about why trans inclusion in sport is so crucial, and learn how you can tackle racism and LGBTQ-phobia when you see it.
Visit our Rainbow Laces hub.
Alison Bechdel is a queer and feminist icon.
She rose to fame after creating the iconic comic strip Dykes To Watch Out For, which ran for 25 years, and writing the graphic novels Fun Home and Are You My Mother?. She is the recipient of a McArthur ‘Genius’ Award, and the musical adaptation of Fun Home won a Tony Award for Best Musical. She lives in Vermont with her partner Holly.
In The Secret to Superhuman Strength, Alison uses exercise as lens through which to explore her own mental and physical health – from her childhood through to the current day. Like all of her work, it’s funny, intensely personal, moving and profound. As part of our summer sport campaign, we were lucky enough to talk to Alison about her new book.
It felt like a lot of the book was about your relationship to your work, and about moving from refusing help from others to accepting it (at least from your partners). That feels like a major shift, and a freeing one. What kind of possibilities does that open up for the future?
I hope it opens up the possibility of letting other people in even more deeply. The day will come, I expect, when I really need physical assistance and I would like to be able to accept it graciously instead of resisting it, thereby making the whole process more difficult than it needs to be.
I found myself going from crying at a page about death to laughing at a joke on the next page. And, of course, Fun Home’s subtitle is ‘A Family Tragicomedy’. When you work, are you consciously mixing serious and humorous topics, or have these things always naturally coincided for you?
It’s a pretty organic mix for me—I did grow up in a funeral home, after all. Joking about serious things was just something my family did.
At what point did the book turn from a ‘fun’ project about exercise into a chronologically told life story, and when did Margaret Fuller come into the mix?
The book was initially going to have a calendar structure—one chapter per month of the year. January would have a lot of skiing in it, for example. But it just wasn’t working, and at some point I realized I needed to literally begin at the beginning, with my birth in 1960. Margaret Fuller came into the mix when I was researching The Whole Earth Catalog—a book that had made a big impression on me as a kid.
The architect and futurist Buckminster Fuller was a big inspiration behind The Whole Earth Catalog project, and then I learned that Bucky had in turn been inspired by his great aunt Margaret! I’d read a great biography of her a few years earlier, and had fallen in love with her. So this link between the transcendentalists and the hippies was exciting to me—there was a clear intellectual lineage there, of which I was a part.
Your work often interacts with politics, even if it’s in ‘subtle’ ways (e.g. newspapers/TV in the background). What’s the thinking behind that, other than to orient the reader in time?
I find the political world a bit baffling, and I’m always trying to work out the way it connects with our individual lives. The older I get, the more I can see that the two realms operate according to the same laws. Actually, it’s one law—narcissism. But what I’m trying to show in this book is that true self-interest necessarily entails other-interest. Instead of our barbaric survival-of-the-fittest mentality, we need to see each other, understand that we all depend on each other, and then work for the collective good. I don’t actually spell all that out in such a didactic fashion, but I hope that’s the message that comes through.
The end of the book takes us up to the present day, with you and Holly switching off from the outside world and slowing down together. How has the pandemic impacted your attitude to work and other priorities in life?
My year-plus quarantine demonstrated something I already knew: that I love staying at home. I’ve had to travel a fair amount in recent years, and it has really been a disruptive and creativity-sapping force. I can’t even express how much I loved just being at home month after month, not even going out for dinner but just staying put on my little patch of land. I felt very bad for people trapped in their city apartments, though—I’m not sure how I would have handled that. Holly and I spent our spare time making paths in our woods, then walking them in endless loops.
It came through how hard it was to be catapulted to fame and to do huge amounts of press around very personal books. Have you found that fans/strangers can cross boundaries in the way they relate to you (in part because your work is quite unboundaried)? How have you handled this?
I haven’t found that to be a problem, really. People in general seem to be fairly respectful. But perhaps that’s due in part to the fact that I’ve retreated so much over the years. I’ve kind of drawn in my head like a turtle. A turtle that has to go out and do periodic rounds of publicity.
Guen’s character was featured briefly but made a huge impression. A lot of your work seems to be around memorialising people. What is it that motivates you to do that, and how do you go about getting it ‘right’?
I tried to be careful not to just use Guen to make a point or fill out my narrative, but to really honour who she was. She was a remarkable person who died quite suddenly and much too young. But she was also my partner Holly’s other girlfriend, which made the loss complicated. I guess it’s just a natural extension of grief for me to try and figure it out in my work—a cerebral approach perhaps, but also one that pushes me to really examine my own emotions.
If you want to order a copy of The Secret to Superhuman Strength, why not try Gay's the Word?
Today, the Welsh Government has launched a public consultation on the upcoming LGBTQ+ Action Plan.
The consultation offers organisations and members of the public the chance to have your say on the Plan as it stands, to suggest improvements and provide your experience into the process.
The action plan includes a list of actions the Welsh Government and partners should take to further LGBTQ+ equality and improve the experiences of LGBTQ+ people in Wales.
Over the past year, individuals and representatives from LGBTQ+ organisations such as Pride Cymru, Glitter Cymru and Stonewall Cymru have been listening to the experiences of LGBTQ+ people from across Wales, to further understand the challenges, discrimination and inequalities that still exist and what should be included in the Plan in order to best progress LGBTQ+ equality and our rights. These experiences were fed into an Independent Expert Panel Report which informed the Government’s LGBTQ+ Action Plan.
Davinia-Louise Green, Director of Stonewall Cymru said of the Plan:
'This Pride season alone has shown how we can’t become complacent in the journey to full LGBTQ+ equality. Since devolution, we have seen some key milestones for advancing LGBTQ+ equality; from the launch of the Welsh Gender Service to ensuring that the new curriculum is LGBTQ+ inclusive. However, as our research and the recent news headlines sadly show, we still have a long way to go until everyone can be free to be who they are.
It has been inspiring to work alongside so many knowledgeable and passionate LGBTQ+ leaders in informing this plan. We are proud to say that this Plan has come as a direct result of conversations had with LGBTQ+ people from across Wales. Over the coming months, Stonewall Cymru will now focus on scrutinising the Plan and discussing it with people invested in furthering the rights of LGBTQ+ people across Wales. It is an exciting time for LGBTQ+ policy in Wales.'
The Plan itself is broad and provides recommendations in areas including: education, arts and culture, workplace, hate crime and community cohesion, and health and social care. The Plan represents a real opportunity to progress LGBTQ+ inclusion and rights across all areas of Government.
Stonewall Cymru are glad that the majority of the recommendations developed as part of the Independent Expert Group are included in the report, including: providing recognition to non-binary people throughout Wales; a commitment to review the Gender Identity pathway for children and young people; and providing strategic, comprehensive investment in professional learning and training on designing a fully LGBTQ-inclusive curriculum. It’s great to see the comprehensive 61 actions set out and it’s now important that LGBTQ+ people and allies in Wales have their say on them.
All details on the draft Plan, the Independent Panel report and how you can respond to the consultation are available on the Welsh Government’s website.
Netflix’s new documentary Pray Away follows the actions of Exodus, a religious group who told LGBTQ+ members – and their families – that they could change who they were.
This important film follows survivors and former leaders of the group, many of whom have now renounced the ‘church’.
While it can be easy to think of conversion practices as something of the past, they can – and do – still happen to lesbian, gay, bi, trans, queer, intersex and ace people across the United Kingdom today.
So, what actually are conversion practices?
Conversion practices are any intervention that seeks to change a person’s sexual orientation or gender identity. Conversion practices work towards one goal, and that goal is to ‘cure’ someone from being lesbian, gay, bi, trans, ace, intersex and/or queer.
Conversion practices are one-directional: the intention is to get a person to change or cancel their sexual orientation or gender identity. This is the opposite of appropriate, affirming and healthy therapy or counselling, which will support an individual who is exploring their sexual orientation or gender identity whatever the outcome may be.
Why do we need a ban?
LGBTQIA+ people don’t need to be cured, and interventions that seek to make a person straight or cisgender can and do cause significant long-term harm to victims. Conversion practice is abuse, and it must be banned, in every setting and for everyone subjected to it.
Without a ban, conversion practices will continue to put our communities at risk of lifelong psychological damage. The National LGBT Survey 2018 found that 7% of LGBT+ people have been offered or undergone conversion therapy. Trans respondents were almost twice as likely to have undergone or been offered conversion therapy (13%), while asexual people were also at a higher risk of being offered or undergoing conversion therapy (10%).
Where are conversion practices happening in the UK?
Often people are surprised at how close a victim of conversion practices is to the person or organisation who conducted it. The Government’s National LGBT Survey (2018) found that one in five (19%) of those who had conversion therapy were offered it through healthcare and medical settings, 16% were subjected to it by a parent, guardian or family member, and a further one in ten (9%) from a member of their community.
But by a large margin, most victims of conversion practices went through it in a faith setting. Over half (51%) of those subjected to a form of conversion practices reported it was conducted by a faith organisation or group.
Why must conversion practices be banned in faith settings?
With such a high proportion of conversion practices taking place in faith settings, it’s vital that these would be included in a ban of conversion practices.
Some LGBTQIA+ people take years to reflect on and explore their sexual orientation and/or gender identity, and many rely on the help of therapists, psychologists, and religious leaders or communities to support them through that process. Spiritual exploration or counselling in an open and affirming manner can be a massive support for a person.
But, if spiritual guidance, counselling or prayer takes the form of coercing a person to cure themselves of their sexual orientation or gender identity, this is not exploration or counselling. It is conversion practice, and it is abuse.
It is important to be clear that a ban is not about restricting prayer or criminalising regular religious or faith-based activity. There is no question that freedom of religion or belief is a crucial and fundamental right, and one which is a central and cherished part of life for many LGBTQIA+ people. But there is no freedom or right that grants a licence to harm, abuse or torture another person.
How can you help ban conversion practices in the UK?
More than three years ago, the Government promised to ban conversion practices, and later this year they will publish a consultation into what that Bill will include.
A conversion practices ban will only be effective if it covers every single LGBTQIA+ person, both adults and children, and in every setting – including religious and faith-based settings.
All LGBTQ+ people deserve to be protected from abuse. Find out how you can support a ban on conversion practices that leaves no one behind.
Bi Cymru/Wales was founded in 2007 by bi people in Wales who felt that their issues and voices are often missing or overlooked in LGBTQIA+ spaces. We came out of a workshop held at BiCon UK held when BiCon came to the University of South Wales in Trefforest in 2007.
We work with and for all people attracted to more than one gender, whatever label they use, or if they use no label. Embracing the diversity within bi communities is an integral part of our identity and at the core of our work.
Since we were founded bi people talked to us at Swansea Pride and Pride Cymru and volunteered to help found local groups Bi Swansea and Bi Cardiff in 2009.
We meet monthly in Cardiff and Swansea as discussion and peer support groups. Since COVID-19 we have been meeting every two weeks online. We also run campaigns on key bi issues, events for Bi Visibility Day and other key dates, deliver bi training, and run an annual BiFest Wales event with workshops, social space and events, community stalls, and an alternative live music event.
Providing spaces where people can be their whole selves as bi people is vital to our wellbeing and acceptance.
We create safe spaces, where bi people can feel comfortable and confident to be themselves. Members often talk to us about feeling they do not belong in either straight or gay spaces and feel alone and isolated. Evidence shows that bi people are often only welcome in gay spaces if they are single or have a same-sex partner, and only welcome in straight spaces if they are single or have an opposite-sex partner. This leads many to hiding their orientation or feeling their orientation is not taken seriously. Providing spaces where people can be their whole selves as bi people is vital to our wellbeing and acceptance in Welsh and UK society.
The lack of bi spaces and of understanding of bi people and issues leads to many members feeling they have found a space with us where they can finally be themselves and be welcome as themselves. This sense of freedom to be ourselves, part of a community, and not alone and isolated as a bi person is a key part of wellbeing and all our groups and events.
As we reopen, we are keeping the mix of online meetings and face-to-face groups, so everyone can access the support and community they need.
Adding Zoom meetings has allowed us to support and engage bi people in rural areas of Wales, in areas without a local bi group, and for bi parents, carers, and some disabled people. However, some members have found online meets inaccessible for them. As we reopen, we are keeping the mix of online meetings and face-to-face groups, so everyone can access the support and community they need.
An extra benefit of bringing bi people together is widening understanding of bisexuality and bi issues. Our training, public events, and campaigns provide a platform for bi people’s voices and issues, which are usually missing in LGBTQIA+ work. By working with other organisations, including Pride Cymru and Stonewall Cymru, biphobia and bi issues are becoming more visible and part of the work of these organisations. The view that a person is defined by their current relationship and that bi people are gay or straight depending on the gender of the person they are dating is changing slowly, with bi people becoming more recognised as consistently bi, not defined by our relationships. Working with public, private and third sector organisations deepens understanding of these issues and recognition of bi people and our issues.
As part of the UK bi family, we also bring bi people and allies from Wales together with our wider community through key events such as Bi Pride UK and BiCon UK. We connect together through Bi Community News and Biscuit. And we link internationally through the bi steering group of ILGA and the international Bi+ group and event organisers’ network. These connections provide a vital link to a wider community, beyond the Welsh borders.
Bringing bi people and allies together for both workshops and social spaces is vital for bi people to develop community, tackle isolation, and provide peer support.
We are looking forward to being able to have BiFest Wales again on a Saturday in May in 2022. Bringing bi people and allies together for both workshops and social spaces is vital for bi people to develop community, tackle isolation, and provide peer support. We have been missing this opportunity to celebrate our bi family, alongside providing an opportunity for key discussions and change to challenge biphobia, bi erasure, and bi exclusion in Wales. Our voices are often unheard and bringing people together is important to hearing and acting on our voices, experiences, and issues.
All LGBTQ+ children and young people deserve an education that reflects who they are. Join us in building a world where LGBTQ+ youth are safe, seen and heard. Stop the threats to LGTBQ+ inclusive education and donate today.
Here in the UK, people of a certain age don’t have to imagine what a world without inclusive education looks like – in fact, many of us lived through an era of actively exclusive education.
Section 28, a damaging piece of legislation that prohibited the discussion of LGBTQ+ issues and identities in schools and colleges, was in effect from 1988 until as recently as 2003 in England and Wales, and 2000 in Scotland. That is to say, every LGBTQ+ millennial in Britain – and even those at the upper limit of Gen Z – had a childhood scarred by this law.
The ripple effects of Section 28 extended far beyond sex education class. It created an environment where LGBTQ+ identities were ‘othered’ and seen as something to be ashamed of. The lack of LGBTQ+ visibility made school playgrounds a breeding ground for ignorance, misinformation and bullying. Children discovering their sexual orientation or gender identity for the first time were denied crucial opportunities for support or learning. Those working in schools didn’t just feel they couldn’t discuss same-sex relationships – they also felt they couldn’t adequately address the abuse aimed at students who were (or were suspected of being) LGBTQ+.
Section 28 damaged a generation of young people, whose school years were characterised by confusion and anxiety.
Let’s be clear: Section 28 damaged a generation of young people, whose school years were characterised by confusion and anxiety. Few of us had trusted adults we could speak to, and we were made to feel like outsiders in places where we should have been safe.
Stonewall was formed in response to Section 28 – and it's as important to us today as it was in 1989. We’ve spent the last 30 years working with schools and teachers to tackle bullying and help create learning environments where all children and young people can thrive. Since then, there’s been a huge amount of progress – both in terms of policy, and societal attitudes. Recent research shows us that most of the British public think it's right for teachers at primary school to talk positively about different families, including LGBTQ+ families, and that the Government should support schools to implement LGBTQ+ inclusion.
Yet LGBTQ+ children and young people still face the kinds of problems that could be prevented by a truly inclusive education. Our 2017 School report showed that anti-LGBTQ+ bullying and language remain commonplace in Britain's schools, and our 2020 Shut Out report showed how a combination of bullying at school, discrimination in the workplace, and lack of home support can have devastating impact on young LGBTQ+ people’s mental health and future prospects.
Inclusive education can’t wait.
In recent years, we’ve also seen rising numbers of protests outside schools by those who feel LGBTQ-inclusive teaching goes against parents’ rights to decide what their children learn. And across Europe, we are seeing what happens if these sentiments go unchallenged. In Hungary, a law has been passed banning the teaching of LGBTQ+ content in schools – echoing Section 28. And while we hear concerns about whether inclusive education is ‘age-appropriate’, we know from our research that inclusive education can’t wait. Anti-LGBTQ+ bullying is common even in primary schools, which might be avoided if children were supported to develop inclusive attitudes from a young age.
That’s why it’s so important to understand what LGBTQ-inclusive education really looks like, and the benefits it holds for everyone. A huge part of inclusive education is teaching about respect and acceptance for people from every background – whether that’s race, gender, sexual orientation, faith, class, or disability. At its heart, inclusive teaching is an affirmation that you exist, and your identity is valid. It’s about ensuring that all children enjoy a school environment where they feel safe and happy.
Imagine being 14 years old, from a family that has never spoken positively about LGBTQ+ people, and suspecting that you might be gay. Then you have an RSHE lesson about what healthy relationships look like, or an English lesson on Shakespeare’s sonnets, and your teachers openly and calmly discuss same-sex couples and bi identities as part of their class. Or imagine starting primary school as a child with lesbian parents, and your teacher reading a book to the whole class about a little girl with two loving mums. It shows a strong signal that you are safe and seen – and to every class member that they should value and respect all those around them.
And for every young person to be prepared for life in modern society and varied communities, it's vital that their curriculum reflects the full diversity of the world they live in. This includes teaching about LGBTQ+ people and themes, and providing high-quality information about what their lives might involve. Many young people are aware of their identities from an early age, and will want to learn about what being LGBTQ+ might mean for them. If trusted adults at school can’t provide the information they need, children and young people will turn to the internet or their friends for answers. At best, this puts them at risk of misinformation. At worst, it risks LGBTQ+ young people encountering harm.
Join us in creating a world where all children and young people grow up knowing that they can be themselves.
So we ask you to join us in creating a world where all children and young people grow up knowing that they can be themselves, and that they will be loved for who they are. A world where all people are encouraged to grow up with inclusive and accepting attitudes. Because every child deserves an education the celebrates the wonderful diversity that exists in our world.
All LGBTQ+ children and young people deserve an education that reflects who they are. Join us in building a world where LGBTQ+ youth are safe, seen and heard. Stop the threats to LGTBQ+ inclusive education and donate today.