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Travis Alabanza on transness, race and taking up space.
Travis Alabanza is a ground-breaking performer and writer. They rose to fame with their hit show Burgerz, which explores their own experiences of transphobia, using comedy to look at how trans bodies are policed and survive.
Their next project, taking over the Bush Theatre in Sherperd’s Bush from 8-22 Dec, Overflow, is set in a flooded toilet cubicle and uses Travis’ signature humour and wit to explore who is allowed in and out of women’s bathrooms. In a wide-ranging interview, they talk about the process of creating their new play, the experience of being black and trans in the arts, tips for the industry, and their hopes for 2021.
Your hit show Burgerz was an intensely personal portrayal of being trans in the UK, and played to sold-out crowds across the country. What made you want to follow it up with Overflow?
‘What Burgerz’ success proves is that people want to hear trans stories, and that our stories can sell out. But I didn’t think that I would be doing a show about transness for quite a while after that. Although I loved Burgerz, it was exhausting. The show was on during a time when there was an increase in transphobic attention and press, even continuing throughout a pandemic which was having such huge global impacts.
This play couldn’t wait until the pandemic was over because trans people were being targeted.
‘That was the last straw for me. It was clear that this play couldn’t wait until the pandemic was over because trans people were being targeted, despite all that we were going through. I wanted to take up space and speak out against all the negativity, using comedy and humour. What’s great about Overflow is that I’m not actually in it – I’ve written the show but it casts Reece Lyons as a lead. I think it’s wonderful that we can have an actor, who happens to be trans, on the mainstage at the Bush.’
Overflow is set in a women’s bathroom cubicle – it’s a space that so often plays host to transphobic media narratives. What made you choose this setting for the show?
‘It’s a space that contention is built around which is why I wanted to focus on it. I wanted to take this debate on a public space, and find a different way to talk about it. But the show is not just about the debate – it’s about the character, Rosie, about her life growing up in bathrooms – the audience experiences her in joy, youthfulness and playfulness. I think it’s important that there is a visual of another experience of being trans, separate from the media narrative.’
This year has been a tumultuous one – with many LGBT+ people facing isolation at home, often forced to live in unaccepting environments. How did this context shape your writing?
‘It has been quite hard. Like many of us, my accommodation had to change quite rapidly during Covid. But in usual times I'm not one of those writers that hides themselves away - I need to socialise, I need to see my favourite drag performers, and go to the pub, it’s where I draw my inspiration. So, writing this without that contact was a challenge. It does really affect your mood and energy and your ability to get inspiration from elsewhere.
The resilience of our community has been an enormous inspiration.
‘But among the challenges, we’ve also witnessed the resilience of our community and that has been an enormous inspiration. Whether that’s through House Party, or with what Kate O’Donnell has done with trans creators online, people are making the best out of a bad situation. So, when I felt like I couldn’t write, I would just look online and realise that if they can do all that, I can write this play.’
Many trans and queer individuals face challenges being accepted within and without their community. But people of colour often face added pressures. How has your experience affected your writing and work?
‘There’s no blueprint for people of colour in the arts, we face multiple axis of oppression. When I was making Burgerz, I used to get feedback that I didn’t represent the ‘true’ trans experience - with white LGBT people loving certain parts of the show, and then being challenging to the parts that were about race. At first I used to find that really isolating, but I also think it’s quite freeing, because it does mean that we can make our own rules.
There’s no blueprint for people of colour in the arts, we face multiple axis of oppression.
‘If you look at the statistics on black trans people in teaching, in drama schools, in casting shows – we’re not there. There are always exceptions to the rule, but it is harder for us. We need to rally behind black trans artists because it has taken more for them to get to that point. Hopefully, we can get more programmes for just us, just trans people of colour, because we’ve got to build alternative routes into the industry.’
For aspiring trans and queer writers and performers, are there any tips that you have for getting into the industry – and what d’you think are the main challenges trans and queer performers face?
‘Our industry is awful at letting in new people. When I started it felt like ‘an old boys club’, and the industry is still not giving people from marginalised groups the autonomy to make choices for themselves. But I will say that it is changing so much. The fact that when I was doing Edinburgh Fringe, there were three different trans artist with sold out shows – that’s just something that wouldn’t have happened ten years ago.
‘My main advice would be to put yourself out there. Send emails to artists you like and ask them for tips, ask them for a Skype date, or to read some of your work. Take risks because, nine times out of ten, people will make time. If we all start supporting each other then we can break down barriers.’
As we come to the end of 2020 a year which has highlighted many of the economic, social and racial inequalities that sadly exist across society - what are your hopes for 2021?
‘One of the positives of this year is that we’ve seen an increase in our connection to each other and have focused on supporting our immediate community – away from the big moments. So, when we inevitably face challenges to our rights, I hope that communal solidarity continues.’
Overflow runs from 8 - 22 December at the Bush Theatre. A Post Show Q&A with the cast and creatives behind the play will be held on 10 December and is free to ticket holders on the night. The production will be performed with government guidelines and social distancing measures in place.
£10 tickets available for young people, students and those living and working in Shepherd’s Bush.
A digital release will also be announced at later date.
This International Day of People with Disabilities we’ve spoken to leading GB men’s blind skier, John Dickinson-Lilley, about being your authentic self as an LGBT and disabled athlete.
The Coronavirus pandemic has made 2020 a difficult year for everyone. How have you been coping?
2020 has been a difficult year – ‘challenging’ doesn't do it justice. Disabled people have been disproportionately impacted by shielding measures. It’s also been liberating in the sense that home working – a key demand and reasonable adjustment for disabled workers – is now more normalised. But, ironically, this only happened when able-bodied people needed it!
What are the challenges of being an LGBT, disabled person in the sports world?
Being a disabled, LGBT athlete is a bit of a double-whammy. You get all of the challenges around your disability which you need to manage to deliver a world-class performance, and then you need to navigate the homophobia and heteronormative cultural issues.
What have been some of the highlights and special moments throughout your career?
It's true to say that being your authentic self as an athlete is central to a medal-winning performance. I remember winning the European Cup in slalom, heading to Tignes to compete in the British Championships, zipping back to do BBC’s The One Show then returning to win both British titles – all in seven days. It felt very jet set and what a brilliant finish to the season!
Do you have any advice for people who want to be better allies to LGBT disabled people in sports and beyond?
I have two pieces of advice. For LGBT athletes: please be you, it’s your truth, your power and will help you to win. For allies: help create an environment that enables LGBT athletes to be out. Challenge language, behaviour and cultural norms, and use your power and influence so that LGBT athletes can either be out, or at least not isolated, in the team or sporting environment.
If you want to play your part in making sport everyone’s game, check out our Rainbow Laces campaign and start a conversation about LGBT inclusion in your community today!
We spoke to Amazin LeThi and Michael Gunning – two Stonewall Sport Champion sports figures – about allyship in the sporting world and how everyone can play a part in tackling racism and LGBTQ+ phobia to make sports everyone’s game.
This year has been incredibly challenging for everyone; the Coronavirus pandemic has intensified existing equalities and made many LGBT+ people feel isolated. Michael, a professional swimmer, said that ‘2020 has been a standout year for us all, but we’ve witnessed the world come together in solidarity to challenge racism, inequality and injustice within our society.’
Sports has the power to bring people together and bring out the best in us. But we know that homophobia, biphobia, transphobia and acephobia remain a problem in sports and that racism continues to affect Black Asian and Minority Ethnic (BAME)/People of Colour (PoC) players and fans alike. Amazin LeThi, a global LGBTQ Advocate, Stonewall UK Sport Champion and Athlete Ally Ambassador said that ‘2020 has been a particularly challenging year for the Asian community with the Coronavirus and global racism. Everyone must use this opportunity to be not just an ally but an advocate for the Asian LGBTQ community.’
Whether it’s slurs from players and fans or stereotypes and underrepresentation in the media, LGBT BAME/PoC face barriers to participation in sport at a grassroots and professional level. According to Kick It Out research, there was a 53% increase in reported racial abuse in professional football this year and a 95% increase in reports of abuse based on sexual orientation. Rising levels of transphobia in sports also stands in the way of trans BAME/PoC athletes from thriving. There is much more work to be done before sports is everyone’s game.
Stepping up as an ally to LGBT BAME/PoC in sports is a long-term and ongoing commitment. But these five tips from Amazin and Michael are a great place to start:
1. Listen to, believe, and uplift LGBT BAME/PoC people in sport.
Amazin: Sports should be welcoming for everyone regardless of race, sexuality, or gender identity and or expression. With so few British Asian athletes at professional level and no openly out British Asian LGBTQ athletes we must make sure to find ways to uplift and amplify Asian LGBTQ voices and role models in sports.
Michael: Regardless of the colour of your skin or your sexuality, every voice is invaluable and it’s so important to take time out of our normal busy schedules to listen, uplift and motivate one another’s achievements. Having role models that look/dress/act like you is vital when influencing the younger population, and ultimately changes the stereotypes before it gets too late.
2. Being a visible ally and encourage conversations at school, work and within your sport.
Allyship isn’t just wearing a rainbow pin or marching in pride once a year because we are LGBTQ 365 days a year. It’s about being our champion when we are not in the room and always calling out anti-LGBTQ and racist language when it happens because no one should be made to feel less than because of their race or how they identify.
Amazin LeThi
Amazin: Being an active visible ally and advocate in the athletic community encourages others to do the same. Encouraging conversations around LGBTQ equality and allyship helps to foster an inclusive and safe sports environment for LGBTQ athletes to be openly out in sports.
Michael: As an athlete, it’s important to remember that training is our workplace and we need the same level of respect, professionalism and support in order to thrive in our environments. Having visual allies encourages more conversations to be had and gives people/athletes a chance to live their authentic selves in their own environment.
3. Educate yourself about homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, acephobia and racism in sport.
Amazin: Asian LGBTQ athletes face multiple layers of discrimination because of race, sexuality, gender identity and or expression. It’s important to education yourself on inclusive language because the language that you use is so impactful on the LGBTQ community. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and always call out anti-LGBTQ and racist language when you hear it.
Michael: It’s so important not overlook cases of homophobia and racism, especially within sporting environments, as this is sometimes the only place people/athletes can go to feel themselves. The language you use and the way you treat people can have lasting effects on one’s mental health, so it’s vital we continue to learn to educate one another.
4. Recognise and use your privilege.
Amazin: Check-in regularly with your own privilege and realise that minority groups may not have the voice you have in the athletic community. Wherever possible use your voice as an ally to uplift and amplify the voices of Asian athletes.
Michael: We are all learning new things every day and I too am not always familiar with some LGBT language and BAME phrases, but after conversations and learning from others, I make a careful effort not to offend people and love hearing new perspectives and it inspires me to be the best ally too.
5. Celebrate LGBTQ+ BAME/PoC people in sport.
No-one should ever be made to feel like they can’t be themselves, and allyship plays such a big part of that because it’s important to feel accepted in the life that we live.
Michael Gunning
Amazin: There is a stereotype in sports that Asian people are geeky, slow, and not built for being athletes. I never had any role models in sports that looked like me and was bullied for being Asian and LGBTQ in sports. Role models present a positive image for Asian kids and lets them know that they aren’t alone and reminds them that they too can thrive through sports.
Michael: People have said to me that ‘black people don’t swim’ and that I’d ‘never make it to the top’, but I’m so glad I never listened to them because I’ve achieved more than I ever could have imagined. Just because I’m a gay black swimmer, it doesn’t mean I can’t achieve greatness and there’s so many incredible untold stories (young and old) that deserve the right to be shared and celebrated.
Amazin LeThi is a global LGBTQ Advocate, Stonewall UK and Athlete Ally Sports Champion Ambassador.
Michael Gunning is a two-time World Championship Swimmer and is currently on route to competing in the postponed 2021 Olympic Games next year in Tokyo.
Donate today to help us continue our work to make sport everyone’s game.
This year’s Disability Awareness Month runs from 18 November until 18 December 2020.
The theme is around Access: How far have we come? How far do we have to go? If you generally have access to stuff (like the physical environment around you, transport options, information and communication, services, and so on) then this is probably something you’ve never thought about consciously. But if, like me, you only have access to a lot of these things because of being efficient at hiding your identity, the whole subject becomes a lot more complicated.
Let me explain. I have a condition called Beale’s syndrome, which is related to Marfan’s syndrome – a genetic disorder that affects the connective tissues that hold all of the body’s cells, organs and tissues together. Simply put, my body does not produce enough of the protein needed for connective tissues in my body. This is most prevalent in my finger joints, which resulted in me being born with my fingers curled in towards the palm and unable to stretch out.
It’s a very odd feeling to realise that the only reason I’ve not been more impacted by my condition is because I had access to the right surgery, courtesy of the NHS. This surgery involved my hand tissue and joints being reconstructed, and helped me to gain about 80% of the movement in my fingers. As a result, I’ve got really, really effective at ‘hiding’ my condition.
It helps that unless you’ve sat with me for a while and paid very close attention to how my fingers never quite leave a ‘claw’ shape, you would never really guess that I had a disability. But I still try to hide my condition as much as possible. I use pointers in my presentations to avoid using my hands, and my penchant for fingerless gloves means I can hide the surgery scars that decorate my fingers.
In the same way, many people wouldn’t really guess that I was queer, which I use as a label for myself. I don’t hit a lot of the stereotypes that exist around LGBTQIA+ people – and even if I did, that shouldn’t be a negative thing. Plus, because my partner is a straight, cis man, I often get mistaken for not being part of the community. Depending on the circumstances, I would say I’m more confident at being ‘out’ as queer, rather than ‘out’ as disabled, but that’s probably just because I work for a big LGBT rights charity and have that as a bit of security.
I often find that my access to spaces and opportunities depends a lot on how effectively I can hide these different aspects of my identity. For example, a lot of the spaces that my family occupies require me to hide my queer identity. In mainstream LGBTQIA+ spaces, disabled folks are often deliberately excluded, because it is seen as impossible for someone who is disabled to engage in romantic and/or sexual relationships. On top of that, ableism and queerphobia often go hand in hand. We see this everywhere: from the media we consume all our lives, to the medical-based and pathologised ways we have spoken about these identities until recently.
A lot of folk, especially disabled folks, may not have even their basic human rights respected.
Understanding that these two communities share struggles is vital if we are to make equal rights a reality for everyone. It’s also worth remembering that a lot of folk, especially disabled folks, may not have even their basic human rights respected. LGBTQIA+ organisations need to ensure that they support disabled service users and supporters, and organisations that work with disabled people need to be aware that some of the folks they support will also be LGBTQIA+. It’s tough to change our practices, but if we’re going to truly embody the values that make us proud, we need to make sure that we tackle all discrimination and stigma of identities.
Understanding that these two communities share struggles is vital if we are to make equal rights a reality for everyone.
As a first step on this journey, we must amplify the voices of those who have been historically underrepresented in our communities and who are, even now, marginalised by our structures and systems – whether economic, societal, or inter-personal. We must also work together to remove the systemic barriers that prevent folks getting what they need for a good life. Maybe then, people like me will be able to enter any space without hiding vital parts of their identity.
Visit Stonewall's Disability Hub.
As this year’s Disability History Month comes to an end, Stonewall’s Accessibility Forum have highlighted 8 ways you can become a better ally to LGBT disabled people.
One in five LGBT people have experienced a hate crime or incident due to their sexual orientation and/or gender identity in the last 12 months, and one in three disabled people feel that disability prejudice is still commonplace.
Being both disabled and LGBT, we face discrimination against both parts of our identity. The reality of living with an intersected identity means we often face multiple barriers and adversity in everyday life.
As LGBT disabled people, we are heavily marginalised within society, and our voices and experiences are often overlooked. We need allies to take action and step up to support the LGBT disabled community. Take the first step in your allyship journey by reading, practising and sharing the points below.
1. Fight for accessibility
Society is designed to meet the needs of non-disabled people. As a result, disabled people are often excluded from events, activities and places that are inaccessible. It’s not surprising that a third of disabled people experience difficulties relating to their impairment when trying to access public, commercial and leisure goods and services. This is particularly true of LGBT spaces that often revolve around protests, marches, and club nights. Even in the wake of the pandemic, digital accessibility has become a crucial yet often overlooked factor. For disabled people to feel welcome and valued in the LGBT community these spaces need to become more accessible.
If you help to run these events, choose venues and plan events that are accessible to all parts of the LGBT community. If you attend these events, ask the organisers what they are doing to make it an accessible space for everyone.
It’s crucial that you ask these questions and ensure accessibility is top of the agenda for all spaces and events.
2. Watch your language
Language is a crucial tool for marginalised communities – it helps us identify ourselves in ways that feel empowering. This is particularly true for the LGBT and disabled communities. Every LGBT disabled person will have a unique relationship to language and a preference for what terminology they prefer. A basic level of respect is using the correct terms and language the person has chosen for themselves. You should always be led by the person and if you’re unsure, just ask them what they prefer.
Ableism is often expressed and reinforced through language. Much of our colloquial language is filled with ableist words and metaphors – there’s a helpful article here about inclusive language and alternatives to commonly use ableist words. As an ally, it’s vital that you’re not using ableist, homophobic, biphobic or transphobic language and that you challenge anyone who does.
3. Be responsible for your own learning
A key part of allyship is learning and expanding your knowledge – but be mindful of who and what you’re asking. You should never ask a person about their sexuality or disability unless they speak to you about it first. Always be led by the person and never ask intrusive questions.
Even when someone is happy to share their experiences, it’s crucial to remember that a marginalised person is not responsible for teaching you about their identity. Instead of relying on LGBT disabled people to give you the answers, do your own research and use your own resources to expand your learning – we’ve included some tips at the bottom to get you started.
4. Challenge ableism
Ableism is the systemic exclusion and oppression of disabled people. Not only is ableism evident across society, it’s also widespread within the LGBT community. One in four LGBT disabled people whose activities are limited a lot because of a health problem or disability have experienced discrimination or poor treatment from others in their local LGBT community – because of their disability.
If you are a member of the LGBT community you need to be aware that other people’s lives and experiences may be very different to your own, especially if they suffer multiple levels of discrimination due to other elements of their identity, such as disability. Your role as an ally is to educate yourself so you are equipped to speak out against ableism. If you witness people making ableist or negative comments, challenge it whenever it’s safe to do so. If you see it online, report it.
5. Respect our experiences
It’s essential that you recognise every disabled LGBT person as an individual. We all have our own unique experiences, voice and identity. There are a wide array of disabilities that impact people in different ways, and how this intersects with their sexuality will also vary. One person’s experiences don’t represent the whole LGBT or disabled community – so please listen to our experiences but don’t expect us to be a spokesperson for all LGBT disabled people.
6. Don’t make assumptions
Disabilities are complex and varied, and many people have disabilities that are hidden and not immediately obvious. LGBT and disabled people don’t look or act in a particular way. You should never assume or make assumptions based on a person’s sexuality, gender, or disability.
One in three people believe that disabled people are less productive than less disabled people. These misconceptions are routed in a lack of understanding. An important way to step up as an ally is to challenge your own assumptions.
7. Keep it confidential
If a person comes out to you or discloses their disability, it’s important to not share this with anyone unless they have said you can. Even if a person has spoken to you about it, they may not be out to everyone, so treat any information they’ve shared about their sexuality or disability as confidential. If you feel this information needs to be shared for any reason, always speak to the person and get their permission first.
8. Support LGBT disabled organisations
There are a whole host of organisations doing incredible work for the LGBT disabled community. Step up as an ally by learning and supporting these charities. Read our article to find out about some of the organisations and collectives you should be supporting.
Resources
This is a time of loss and loneliness for many people, and for the LGBT+ community, the coronavirus pandemic continues to be just one of many threats.
Inequalities that already existed have ramped up for the most marginalised LGBT+ people, including LGBT+ people of colour, trans people and people living in poverty.
Kate (she/her) shared her experience as a disabled and chronically ill LGBT+ person.
How has your life been impacted by COVID-19?
I am disabled, chronically ill and long-term housebound. At the beginning of the lockdown, my ME flared and I have been bedbound since then.
I am a 33-year-old adult, living with my parents. I am extremely socially isolated and cut off from friends and queer community. This was the case before the lockdown (and has been for several years now), but it has felt even more intense during the pandemic. This has negatively affected my mental health and self-esteem. I feel very lonely.
My friendships have also been affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. While I'm worried about all of the above, some of my able-bodied friends have travelled abroad on holiday, have not adhered to the government guidelines and are complaining about how difficult it has been for them to socially distance and stay at home. I understand this isn't easy on anyone, but I've been housebound and socially isolated for years.
Have you faced barriers or challenges accessing support?
Because of COVID-19, it was unsafe for me to attend the health centre for a blood test and to drop off samples requested by hospital specialists. I have also faced sexism and biphobia in healthcare settings. In hospital, I ought to be safe and respected, not objectified and placed in a horrific heteronormative predatory narrative.
I am a disabled bisexual. I am chronically ill and long-term housebound (even without the pandemic). This means that I am cut off from queer community and have not had the opportunity to make queer friends and connections. There are no services for queers in my position, who are not older. I am 33.
The COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated my feelings of loneliness and isolation. I have been in touch with a number of LGBTQ organisations to ask for help and advice. Repeatedly, I have encountered ableism and have been met with patronising and dismissive responses. It feels like nobody wants to have anything to do with me.
Futher information
Find out how to be a better ally to LGBT+ disabled people and discover 5 LGBT+ disability organisations you should support.
Photo credit: Ali Kapenek
This is a time of loss and loneliness for many people, and for the LGBT+ community, the Coronavirus pandemic continues to be just one of many threats.
Inequalities that already existed have ramped up for the most marginalised LGBT+ people, including LGBT+ people of colour, trans people and people living in poverty. Mason (they/them) is a cultural worker in Glasgow. They told us about losing access to their gender clinic during the pandemic.
How has your life been impacted by COVID-19?
I was due for a third appointment at the gender clinic to qualify for hormone treatment, but due to COVID-19 this appointment and future treatment was postponed for over 11 months, as the clinic's services were not considered "essential".
Despite repeated attempts to seek answers from the NHS, it's unclear to me why the gender clinic is not "essential", when it will reopen, and how I will be able to access any of the services in the future.
Have you faced barriers or challenges accessing support?
I am highly fortunate to have a stable living situation, and a mutually supportive network of friends and family nearby. This has been key to maintaining good mental health.
The redirection of efforts to combat the health crisis has left under-funded parts of NHS services even less able to cope with ongoing stresses of patient demands, and I am certain that the closure and postponement of services such as the gender clinic has contributed to additional and unnecessary pain, anxiety and poor health in my community.
Gender clinics and the services they provide are essential. What these clinic workers provide is invaluable. Prior to COVID-19, the inordinate amount of time people sit on these waiting lists for their services was already intolerable, cruel, irresponsible and a threat to life. That these waiting lists would now be irrelevant because the clinics are closed is even more catastrophic, and a clear indicator that the government is uninterested and is actively divesting from trans lives.
This is a time of loss and loneliness for many people, and for the LGBT+ community, the coronavirus pandemic continues to be just one of many threats.
Inequalities that already existed have ramped up for the most marginalised LGBT+ people, including LGBT+ people of colour, trans people and people living in poverty.
Inequalities that already existed have ramped up for the most marginalised LGBT+ people, including LGBT+ people of colour, trans people and people living in poverty. Tamika (she/her) shared her experience as a black, queer young person. She told us about her struggles with mental health during the pandemic.
How has your life been impacted by COVID-19?
I was finally getting myself back on my feet after a long mental health break, was doing some volunteer work and going out with friends more but obviously Covid-19 has halted that, and I occasionally worry that I'm not in the headspace to try again.
I'm black and luckily for me I live alone so I only have to take care of my own health, however my mom is over 50 and vulnerable, she cares for my three younger siblings, so the savings were ate up fairly quickly so she went back to work quite early into lockdown and took as many precautions day to day as possible but of course I still worry about her being at risk.
Outside of that, I struggled a bit with my mental health, and it sort of varies - I'm bipolar and I'm fairly certain that I was in a very high point towards the start of lockdown because whilst I had a few instances of hallucinations I was still in a good mood however the last few weeks I've been having a fair few negative thoughts, some suicidal ones too.
Have you faced barriers or challenges accessing support?
I guess the only barrier would be that I no longer have any psychiatrist appointments face to face. Especially since I received the pill from my GP no problem.
I have a social worker and she has been unable to visit with lockdown happening and I've felt kind of awkward giving her life updates over the phone. I know that's just anxiety speaking. I also had a fairly major life update regarding a traumatic experience and it felt like I couldn't go anywhere to get help, like the only help was online or over the phone and I know it's the same but personally I open up better in person.
I'm ever so lucky, I was on the waiting list for social housing for two years and eventually they contacted me about viewing a studio flat and I snatched it up immediately! I was living in accommodation for the vulnerable previously so very happy to be out of that life stage.
This LGBT+ History Month our focus will be on LGBT+ education.
For us, this takes us back to our roots – Stonewall was formally launched one year to the day after Section 28 was made law in 1988. This piece of legislation prevented teachers from talking about same-sex relationships in schools, forcing teachers back into the closet or out of their job, and scarred a generation of LGBT+ people – all at the height of the HIV/AIDS crisis, causing more hurt to an already marginalised community.
Despite being scrapped in 2000 in Scotland and 2003 in England and Wales, Section 28 still casts a shadow within education and beyond. The view of many people at the time was that Section 28 ‘protected children’ – a sadly familiar narrative still used today by pro-conversion therapy and anti-trans groups.
LGBT+ History Month in the UK was started by the education charity Schools Out in 2005 to bring queer history to light after this long period where school children grew up hearing nothing positive about LGBT+ people and our lives. And, for sure, we are making progress: just last year we saw a historic moment when LGBT-inclusive Relationships and Sex Education was introduced in England’s schools after years of campaigning. By the end of this year, LGBT-inclusive education will be embedded in all Scottish schools, and in 2022 LGBT-inclusive RSE will be introduced in all Welsh schools.
We are proud of this progress. But research shows that a lack of support for teachers delivering these subjects risks undermining the potentially life-changing impact of LGBT-inclusive education. And on a more sinister note, anti-LGBT groups are mobilising across the UK to undermine schools’ and councils’ work to support LGBT+ young people.
The shadow of Section 28 remains.
The shadow of Section 28 remains. It is diminishing, but there are still threats to the vital progress we have made together.
I went to school at a time when LGBT+ people – our lives, our families, our relationships – were hidden from sight, and speaking up meant punishment for teachers and for students. It gives me such hope for the world that we live in that my sons will grow up going to school where LGBT+ people, lives, families and relationships are recognised and talked about as part of everyday life.
We all have to play our part in supporting LGBT+ inclusive education and making this transformative social change a reality.
We all have to play our part in supporting LGBT+ inclusive education and making this transformative social change a reality. You can do that by sharing our free LGBT+ education home learning packs for pupils. Please donate to Stonewall so we can continue supporting LGBT+ children and young people, and their families.
Step by step, together, we move closer to a future where we are all free to be included, free to be proud, and free to be ourselves.
You might have seen NHS Rainbow Badges when accessing health services or your TV screens over the last few years.
These badges started as an initiative at Evelina London Children's Hospital to make a positive difference by promoting a message of LGBT+ inclusion and have been taken up by hospitals and health services across the NHS as just one way of showing that these services aim to be open, non-judgemental and inclusive places for LGBT+ people.
And we’re pleased to say that we at Stonewall and the LGBT Foundation will be working in partnership with NHS England, with support from Brighton & Hove LGBT Switchboard, LGBT Consortium, and GLADD (The Association of LGBT Doctors and Dentists), to take the NHS Rainbow Badges to the next level with a new scheme to benchmark and award NHS organisations for their work on LGBT+ inclusion.
LGBT+ people experience a range of health inequalities throughout their life course which mean they are more likely to need to access healthcare services. These health inequalities are often exacerbated by the barriers that people face when accessing services to treat or support them. This includes things such as a lack of understanding and training on how to properly treat or care for the person, or discrimination or a perception of potential discrimination based on sexual orientation or trans status.
Our 2018 LGBT in Britain - Health Report, based on YouGov research with 5000 lesbian, gay, bi and trans (LGBT) people across England, Scotland and Wales about their life in Britain today showed that one in seven LGBT people (14 per cent) avoid seeking healthcare for fear of discrimination from staff. And the Government Equalities Office’s National LGBT Survey (2018) of over 108,000 people found that forty per cent of trans respondents reported having faced at least one negative experience in healthcare in the previous year.
So what are we going to do?
- Together we’ll be evolving the highly successful NHS Rainbow Badge awards scheme with a Bronze/ Silver/ Gold tiered awards model. Awards will be linked to objectives around LGBT+ inclusion within NHS organisations, ensuring that Trusts are implementing the relevant staff training, monitoring, inclusive policies and support for LGBT staff and patients to drive a supportive work and clinical environment.
- The project will combine LGBT Foundation’s Pride in Practice experience in primary care and patient-focused support, Stonewall’s Diversity Champion experience supporting employers and internal staff, and Brighton & Hove LGBT Switchboard’s expertise in engaging with secondary care services.
And so LGBT Foundation will each be recruiting a new member of staff to support this important work.
Welcoming the development, Dr Michael Brady, National Advisor for LGBT Health, NHS England and NHS Improvement, said:
‘The NHS Rainbow Badge has been one of the most successful and widespread initiatives in raising LGBT awareness across the NHS. The badges have received an enormous amount of interest, including participation from over 90% of NHS trusts within just 18 months of the project launching. This is largely thanks to the visionary work of Dr Mike Farquhar and colleagues at Guy’s and St. Thomas’ NHS Foundation Trust. I am delighted that we’re able to build on this success by investing in Phase 2 of the project, to support delivery of wider objectives to improve the care and reduce inequalities for LGBT patients, as well as improving experience for LGBT staff. I am really pleased that this new partnership between the LGBT Foundation, Stonewall, LGBT Consortium, Brighton & Hove LGBT Switchboard and GLADD, all of whom have many years’ experience in this field, are taking this work forward.’